Not Just Cletus
Friday, December 1, 2017
Pet Peeves 1
Pet Peeve:
People who who mock anti-depressants, who have never needed them, and have never educated themselves about the medications.
I don't need them, but I know the chemistry and science behind them. I know that there are people who LACK the chemistry these medications provide. I know that that are a variety of medications, each for a variety of mental health issues. I know that 'mental health' is a blanket term that covers a BROAD range of cognitive, emotional, perceptual, and in some cases neurological issues (and more). I know there are some medications intended for short-term treatments (for example, to help someone become comfortable enough to open up about their issues and navigate positively through talk therapy), and some that are long-term or lifelong. I know they are over-prescribed, and the onus is on the patient to be aware of what their doctor is recommending for them, and to actually engage with their provider (something I've dealt with firsthand, as I do not feel like my fibro yet requires an SNRI like Cymbalta, despite repeated recommendations). I know that depression is among the most classically misunderstood conditions, and that it isn't a state of being perpetually sad as much as it's a state devoid of emotional and/or normative emotional responses.
However, finding a state of Zen or somesuch isn't going to help someone who is chemically incapable of being calm. Finding true happiness isn't a matter of 'hard' or 'easy' to someone who lacks the chemical ability to discern between any emotions.
Mocking the medications mocks those with mental health issues.
As an idea of how misunderstood it may be: America has blatant acts of domestic terrorism branded as 'mental health issues.' This is evidence of how isolated, stigmatized, and misrepresented the issue is in our country alone: our media is reinforcing that everyone with a mental health problem is a NATIONAL SECURITY RISK. The populous at large is letting this happen, and in most cases, going along with the stigma.
It's easy to say something is terrible - it's a real easy ego boost. But, it's a passing emotional high at the expense of isolating and stigmatizing a broader, obfuscated issue.
The solution's simple, but it's harder:
Don't do the easy thing. Don't be a dick and contribute to the stigma. Do something that challenges the cultural norm, and tell someone something nice today. Do a nice thing. Buy a coffee for a stranger. Maybe even just don't mock something or someone you don't understand.
Whatever. Just, don't be a dick.
Wednesday, March 8, 2017
The Death of Good Health
Let's talk highlights on the new healthcare 'proposal.'
-Guaranteed higher premiums due to a lack of program
mandate. This mandate, or requirement of
all uninsured Americans to either have coverage, or pay a penalty, is what
keeps the costs down for every American when they need access to coverage -
REGARDLESS of whether your coverage comes from an employer, or privately. All insurance companies pull their funding
from a joint 'pool' of these payments.
Premiums are what you pay monthly to be a part of the program, the
deductibles are combined with this, into the pool, to fund your healthcare.
Without this mandate, the healthiest will no longer have
to put into the program, and in their health, they keep insurance companies
afloat by contributing without drawing from the pool. Meanwhile, those of average or less health
create the largest draw. To offset this
large pull from the pool with a smaller number of insured Americans, premiums
will rise, as will deductibles.
-This 'proposal' builds in tax revocations and sheltering
programs allowing individuals that can afford to stow $10,000 or MORE at a time
into a special medical savings program.
Subsequently, the money in this fund will be non-taxable. Imagine making $30,000-$40,000 a year, and
being able to withhold taxes on it, so long as it goes into a specific
account. Even only used for healthcare,
the average American pays copays and deductibles out-of-pocket, post-tax,
because the requirements of this program are so costly and limiting, that
they're restricted to only the upper echelon of income-earners.
Along with this and removing the taxation on luxury
non-medical procedures, on medical equipment, and quality-of-life diminishing
products (such as squashing or entirely removing taxes on sodas, cigarettes,
and tanning bed use), the only person that stands to lose is the American
public. With higher premiums, but
cheaper access to publicly acknowledged health risks, this 'proposal' is
further limiting access to reasonable healthcare services.
-Further, with less going into taxes for these products
and offerings, its estimated that a combination of households pulling down
$200,000 or more stand to profit by as much as $346 BILLION over the next 10
years through health and luxury tax reductions.
That's to say, those that can invest into the medical system, its new
tax-shelters, and the subsidies I'll discuss further, the top 3% of Americans
will scrape away another 3-5% from their fiscal responsibility to the Federal
government.
-Women's Reproductive care will become optional. This is not a joke or hyperbole. It will no longer be part of the minimum
required offering for a woman to see her OB-GYN. Maternity care will no longer be
guaranteed. Wellness care for things
like ovarian cysts, endometriosis, fibroids, and pre- and post-menopausal
treatments will ALL. BE. OPTIONAL.
Keeping in mind, as this coverage becomes optional, the pool to draw
from funding for this will become smaller. This, in turn, makes the individual
cost for the plan, deductibles, and any copays, increase.
-Meanwhile, no changes to the coverage of men's
reproductive health. Want your nards cut
so you never have kids again, but can boink to your hearts content? - Covered.
Want your uterus removed because cancer? - that coverage
is now optional by provider.
-Back to point.
Planned Parenthood - political bogeyman of the Republicans, who provide
medical free or reduced-cost assistance to BOTH sexes, 98% of which has nothing
to do with abortions - will be utterly defunded. Period.
The last bastion of reasonable, recognizable, and accessible healthcare
for my wife and nieces, sister and sister-in-laws: GONE. There are no numbers here: they will be
defunded, deflated, and inelegantly scraped off the bottom of a politicians
shoe like canine feces, simply because this is an organization that morally
offended them, despite the practical reality of its necessity.
In addition, private health insurance companies will be
prevented from covering abortion costs.
Regardless of your position, this INCLUDES medically-necessary
procedures, due to some fast-and-loose wording.
-The ACA's provision for essential health services and
coverage will be provisioned out within the next three years (by
12/31/2019). I - like so many Americans
- appreciate that since Mental Health was determined an essential benefit,
talking about mental issues is no longer performed in hushed tones behind
closed doors.
Too damn bad, as it's on the top of the list to be phased
out. Additionally, pre-existing
conditions that qualify for denial of coverage will be shuffled back in. Chronic pain?
Autoimmune disorder? Cancer? Parkinsons?
Alzheimers? Chrones? Brain damage? - all grounds for rejection of
coverage again.
-Subsidies will now be age-based, not income based.
Look, I pay for my own healthcare, which means I have to
use the marketplace. While I don't qualify for subsidies, I know that the use
of subsidies keeps costs in the pool lower.
Shifting this access to a smaller portion of the public - a portion
that, in most cases, already qualifies for the subsidy - increases the cost of
entry AND use for EVERYONE. Lower-income
households (reporting $60,000 or less in taxable income) will have fewer opportunities to ensure their
children are healthy and insured.
Period.
Meanwhile, people like #45 and his cronies will be
getting a 10-50% subsidy (maybe more). From the government. For their
Healthcare. While they are no longer
working FOR the government. Keeping in
mind, they would currently already qualify for Medicaid.
-Speaking of, Medicaid is dead by 12/31/2019.
Period. Know any of your parents using
Medicaid? Know how much they've used it?
Know how much they've needed it?
Well, it'll be gone. That's it. Nothing pretty or flowery
to it: it's just done and gone.
And that's it.
This isn't a repeal-and-replace: this is outright annihilation. This is a return to the the inadequate
insurance practices of the 70s and 80s.
This is not how you make a healthy, progressive,
profitable nation of productive blue and white collar employees.
This is how you legitimize a cull, clouded in the equally
subversive name of profiteering.
Ref:
http://www.latimes.com/business/hiltzik/la-fi-hiltzik-obamacare-repeal-20170306-story.html
Thursday, February 23, 2017
Time and wounds
Time alone does not heal a wound. Time is needed simply to reconnect the damaged coverings and structures. The wound will still hurt. It will always hurt.
This can be said of breaking a leg, to losing a loved one, to the situation described here. Don’t assume because something’s not being discussed that everyone’s okay with it. There will come a day when someone says to you or your loved one that since they no longer talk about their deceased spouse that they’ve moved on right?
No.
All that means is that no one is talking about it. And sometimes, not talking about it is easier for everyone ELSE, so the person suffering just stops engaging on the issue. It’s emotionally exhausting to keep saying the same things over and over, and moreso when people either don’t listen, or just disregard what you have to say. Loss, such as losing the trust of - or in - a loved one, or outright death, are very personal experiences, which make them incredibly difficult to discuss in a meaningful manner with other people.
I don't have my usual optimistic 'feel good' twist for this post, save this: this is universal, you are not the only one to feel this way, and there is nothing wrong with feeling this way.
Saturday, November 5, 2016
Great Grates
I have a short horizontal scar on the back of my right
hand. About a centimeter back from where
it ends, I have another vertical scar.
Around the middle of my wrist, there's another vertical scar. My right ring finger has a long gash, just
above the second knuckle. My thumb has a
straight pucker of flesh above the largest, first knuckle.
The first scar was from a wire fence I slashed my hand
on. Can't remember when exactly. My father was living in a park on the
outskirts of some small village in the parts of New York that aren't referred
to as "The City" or "North of The City." I was taking the trash out one
afternoon. Caught my hand between the
door and the latch as it snapped shut.
Couple of paper towels and super glue, and twelve-year-old me figured
that was that.
The second scar I mentioned - along with my thumb - was from
the kitchen. I have too many scars like
these to recall exactly at this point.
The first was a run in with the wrong side of a mandoline slicer. The second, a brand-new knife took first
blood. I was unfamiliar with its weight
and sharpness. Stitched the gash it
caused with some sewing twine and neosporin.
This - among other scars - is one of the primary reasons I prefer
working with my own knives when cooking in someone else's kitchen. From what I've learned in the past some-odd
years, I am not alone in this.
My right ring finger was stitched back together after ice
skating over it. Couple of girls were
flirting during a church social event at an ice skating rink, and I was largely
oblivious. They snuck up and startled me
on the ice, I lost my balance, and in the flailing that ensued - somewhere
prior to landing on my ass and after my pride was bruised for the wear - I
didn't even realize part of the finger stopped... well... fing-ing. Still attached by meat and skin, though. Managed to hack it with my own ice
skate. Put it and my hand on ice, docs
put it back where it mostly fits, and here we are.
The scar around my wrist eludes me, though. It could be from when I wrapped my body
around a broad tree with coarse bark while delivering newspapers in my youth. The roads were icy, there was a car coming
on, it was caught in a slide on the ice, and I was going downhill on a bicycle
roughly pointed at it. I swerved to miss
the vehicle, and folded like a limp noodle around that woody bastard. I know of the scars on my shoulder and elbow,
where the impact tore through my snowsuit and flesh. Spent a week hammering the rim in place in a
sub-zero garage, after an afternoon of walking the route. A journey that was normally 30 minutes now
took an hour and a half, returning with a numb lisp and frozen tear ducts.
It could be from a giant attack rabbit at the shelter. Trudy liked flesh, I have flesh: you see
where this is going. I'm sure someday
I'll remember exactly.
I don't believe that we remember things like the back of our
hands, so much as memories are a lot like the back of a hand. They're evenly laid out, easily observable,
and on a moment-to-moment basis, they form who you are as a person. Sure, there's depth to them, too. There's the bone, muscle, and sinew that goes
into forming you as a person. That's a
lot of stuff to have accessible in a split second, so, for the most part,
"You" in most moments are just the skin on top. And maybe some of the hairs. And that weird mole you should probably talk
to a doctor about.
Then there's hangnails.
Sometimes you remember a fragment of something, and it just sits there,
at the edge of all memories, begging to be picked at and opened. And you can't just sit there staring at
it. When you least suspect, it'll get
snagged on another memory, itch and irritate its way to the forefront with
annoyance over unfamiliarity, or swell up with an urgent inflammation that *this* is the only thing you should be
thinking about.
So you pick at it.
And it hurts - good fucking christ does it hurt as you start peeling
back that memory. There's a bit of depth
to it, it connects to other memories, you realize how deep it is - or at least,
how deep it's going as you open it up.
There's blood - of course, why wouldn't there be? - and the next thing
you know, you have a loose bit of flesh which started as barely a millimeter in
length, now riding close to a centimeter or more away from the nail, bearing
down on the knuckle.
And it hits you: this is why you didn't remember. It hurts.
It's open, and it's bleeding, and it's sore, and it's just this small
thing but all your body feels it. The
very foundation of how your hand works - how your memories work, how your
personality is put together - is opened, and you see a sliver of the way your
body maps out to be the person you are.
You know, which is great and all WHEN YOU AREN'T IN FUCKING HANGNAIL
HELL.
But that's how it is.
We build a map of memories over the things that cause us to hurt and
bleed. We build a mask of flesh over it
so we don't break down looking at the bloody stump we'd otherwise be, and we
move on. Until every now and then,
something gets in our ear and it's that small sliver - that thing we put down
deep - but we just want it to stop getting in the way of who we immediately
are. So, we rip, and it's everywhere,
fresh as an apple from the tree. Marring
up the roadmap of who we are - albeit temporarily.
Now that’s established, part two.
I had this moment recently.
During a conversation where it was jokingly brought up about choosing to
not be a domestic abuser, it just didn't sit right with me. I joked about it during the moment, didn't
get all weird, and it didn't get to me until later in the evening. I was trying to figure out *why* it was still
getting to me. On a rolling basis, I can
recall bits of the time my stepfather lived with us - the big things,
mostly. Being grounded to my room for
entire summers, being a prisoner in our own house other times, loose
recollections of the physical and emotional abuse, the domino effect this had
throughout the home, and so on. It's a
thing I don't put focus on often.
Everyone has their own shit, and it's all - give or take - terribly
relative, and relatively terrible.
So here I was a half hour shy of midnight focusing on a
thing I hadn't done spelunking through since I was - I don't know, 17? -
18? And just like then, I just fuzzed
out. My mind just got wrapped up in the
vivid memories of screaming in the middle of most nights. It would come as waves, once around 10 or so,
and again four or five hours later.
There was an air return in the floor of my bedroom. I would gingerly take off the grate and stuff
it with plush animals, pillows, blankets, clothes - whatever would muffle the
noise. I'd repeat this with the register
in the wall. I'd rather not have heat on a winter's night, or air condition on
a balmy summer's eve than listen. And
there'd be thumping, and more screaming.
And a slam, and more.
The thing is, committing abuse isn't a choice. It's not something a sane person would evaluate
with a conscious, "should I"/"shouldn't I" decision. This is not something to be evaluated, so
much as something to simply never occur.
It's not like wondering if you should have the whole wheat or rye. It's not a morality question regarding people
and children on train tracks: there should never be a question or choice about
physically, emotionally, sexually, or otherwise abusing children and spouses.
Abuse is about regimented, systemic control of another
person or people. In my time, the only
conscious choice the abuser makes is in matters of "rational"
limits. Here, zero is not a value,
unless it exerts control, such as providing zero meals to a person until
they're amenable. Or until they've
apologized for something they never did in the first place. Either/or.
Citing from experience, the evaluation is more, "Did
they wash the dishes the EXACT way I wanted them to, three times, over the
course of two hours?" If yes, the
answer would be to rapidly slip a belt off and whip it across the back and
buttocks region four times. If not done
as described, six. If not, but fingers
and knuckles were bleach-cracked, bleeding, no longer reasonably able to
withstand the scalding hot water, three times. (As a reference, the answer was
three).
Abuse of any kind is not rational. By that means, when I ripped that small
hangnail open - that small, insignificant sliver - that yeah, sure, I could
have just left well enough alone - there's some question about that
rationale. But you know what? - that's
part of the blood and bones beneath the memories that make me the person I am
on a day to day basis. I lived through
abuse, physical and emotional. There's
many things I learned from it, but of most use was how it taught me how to
recognize toxic people. It took me three
years just to be content with myself, all the while smiling like a mad bastard
because that's what I thought was normal.
It took me another five to stand up for my own beliefs, and another
seven after that to just be done with other people forcing theirs on me.
Abuse of any kind is not rational. Joking about it is not rational, either.
Tuesday, October 25, 2016
Thiel-ing around
You can now make PayPal payments through Facebook Messenger. So if you're wondering why Peter Thiel hasn't been shuttered from Facebook's board of directors, there's one answer for you.
The other is far more level headed, and provided by Zuckerberg himself. "We can't create a culture that says it cares about diversity and then excludes almost half the country because they back a political candidate," Zuckerberg continued. "There are many reasons a person might support Trump that do not involve racism, sexism, xenophobia or accepting sexual assault."
While he may not be wrong, Thiel is far more repugnant for his virulent efforts to purge nearly anything that paints him in a negative light, and bending public interests to his private agendas purely using his wealth. Of his political interests, I still believe they may be birds of a feather...
At what point does 'diversity' stop being to suffer the precious assholes, and start to include racists, sexists, xenophobes, sexual assaults?
Mark Zuckerberg breaks his silence on Peter Thiel - CNN Money
The other is far more level headed, and provided by Zuckerberg himself. "We can't create a culture that says it cares about diversity and then excludes almost half the country because they back a political candidate," Zuckerberg continued. "There are many reasons a person might support Trump that do not involve racism, sexism, xenophobia or accepting sexual assault."
While he may not be wrong, Thiel is far more repugnant for his virulent efforts to purge nearly anything that paints him in a negative light, and bending public interests to his private agendas purely using his wealth. Of his political interests, I still believe they may be birds of a feather...
At what point does 'diversity' stop being to suffer the precious assholes, and start to include racists, sexists, xenophobes, sexual assaults?
Mark Zuckerberg breaks his silence on Peter Thiel - CNN Money
Monday, October 3, 2016
FyBRO and Yes On 2
Heya Florida voters: this November, please vote Yes on #2. With a little over a month to go, help spread the word.
I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia three years ago. I'd been working to diagnose irregular pains - often as sharp as a broken finger, debilitating as a migraine (only one major one so far, thank christ), and at one point resulting in a misdiagnosis of cardiac arrhythmia - throughout my body for over a decade.
Honestly, the diagnosis was a godsend. All it meant was that my pain was real, but I wasn't damaged. I could - and continue to - work with that.
My brain's fine, save where I process pain. I wake up feeling like the average person who's going to bed after running a marathon; I go to bed feeling like I've run two marathons (three, this past Saturday, as I completed the Bubble Run 5k in 40:21). You build a tolerance to it, but it's still always a present and persistent pain, a deep soreness that radiates from the bones, through the muscles, and at worst, like the edge of a serrated knife dragged along the flesh. There's a loss of sleep, and with that, focus, fogginess, and discombobulation. Because there's less sleep, the body never heals, causing it to hurt. Because you hurt, you can't sleep.
You see the loop, here.
This is not without flare-ups - when the body reaches a point where all tactile input is dialed up to eleven. During these flares, something as simple as a brush with rabbit fur feels like being dragged along a sandy beach at forty miles an hour wherever you make contact. The soft touch of a lover feels like a sharp stab with a flathead screwdriver. As I learn to manage myself, these flares only occur 1-2 times a month. They don't keep me down for long, and they - as yet - have no impact my professional life. Still, from what I've researched and read, I can only imagine how much worse it can be for so, so very many.
'Yes On #2' would present an awesome treatment option for people living with fibromyalgia. The current treatments often involve combo drugs, taken at regular intervals, for pain and mobility management, with an enhancement if these conditions seem to be causing any emotional, mood, or mental disorders. These drugs become a lifelong solution, whether through addiction, or SSRI/SNRI reliance. To this point I've worked with my doctors to develop a sleep routine, identify diet restrictions, and create a physical activity and wellness regimen to manage my discomfort, all without the need for pharmaceuticals which may present or manifest psychological issues that do not exist.
Yes, I've tried cannabis as a treatment with the guidance of my rheumatologist, and yes: it alleviated symptoms during the heaviest parts of a flare. But the bureaucratic channels are thick and deep in Florida, restricting access to both physician and patient.
There are ways that marijuana is not the be-all, end-all treatment that the pop press makes it out to be. It should still be controlled and regulated, with access restricted to developing teenagers. But, the medical options it presents for further research and utilization is worth exploring.
That's why I'm voting yes on #2.
I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia three years ago. I'd been working to diagnose irregular pains - often as sharp as a broken finger, debilitating as a migraine (only one major one so far, thank christ), and at one point resulting in a misdiagnosis of cardiac arrhythmia - throughout my body for over a decade.
Honestly, the diagnosis was a godsend. All it meant was that my pain was real, but I wasn't damaged. I could - and continue to - work with that.
My brain's fine, save where I process pain. I wake up feeling like the average person who's going to bed after running a marathon; I go to bed feeling like I've run two marathons (three, this past Saturday, as I completed the Bubble Run 5k in 40:21). You build a tolerance to it, but it's still always a present and persistent pain, a deep soreness that radiates from the bones, through the muscles, and at worst, like the edge of a serrated knife dragged along the flesh. There's a loss of sleep, and with that, focus, fogginess, and discombobulation. Because there's less sleep, the body never heals, causing it to hurt. Because you hurt, you can't sleep.
You see the loop, here.
This is not without flare-ups - when the body reaches a point where all tactile input is dialed up to eleven. During these flares, something as simple as a brush with rabbit fur feels like being dragged along a sandy beach at forty miles an hour wherever you make contact. The soft touch of a lover feels like a sharp stab with a flathead screwdriver. As I learn to manage myself, these flares only occur 1-2 times a month. They don't keep me down for long, and they - as yet - have no impact my professional life. Still, from what I've researched and read, I can only imagine how much worse it can be for so, so very many.
'Yes On #2' would present an awesome treatment option for people living with fibromyalgia. The current treatments often involve combo drugs, taken at regular intervals, for pain and mobility management, with an enhancement if these conditions seem to be causing any emotional, mood, or mental disorders. These drugs become a lifelong solution, whether through addiction, or SSRI/SNRI reliance. To this point I've worked with my doctors to develop a sleep routine, identify diet restrictions, and create a physical activity and wellness regimen to manage my discomfort, all without the need for pharmaceuticals which may present or manifest psychological issues that do not exist.
Yes, I've tried cannabis as a treatment with the guidance of my rheumatologist, and yes: it alleviated symptoms during the heaviest parts of a flare. But the bureaucratic channels are thick and deep in Florida, restricting access to both physician and patient.
There are ways that marijuana is not the be-all, end-all treatment that the pop press makes it out to be. It should still be controlled and regulated, with access restricted to developing teenagers. But, the medical options it presents for further research and utilization is worth exploring.
That's why I'm voting yes on #2.
2016 throwaway header
I've been wanting to write about fibromyalgia for a long time now, but I
want it to be a very deep and comprehensive piece; I keep NOT writing
about it BECAUSE I want it be a very deep and comprehensive piece. So,
let me start simply.
Hi. My name's Cletus, and I have mild brain damage.
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