Genre

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Wise Sayings 14 from Ron Lucius

Wise Sayings 14 from Ron Lucius
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Them thats has, gets.
Them as slows us down, lose.
We who trail behind, may move ahead.
We who have, give.
……………………………………………………………………Ron Lucius
 
 
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Free capitalisms rule, socialisms lag behind.
Republics are profitable, Democracies are dysfunctional.
Democratic republics work well.
Well-managed capitalisms serve all of us best.
……………………………………………………………………Ron Lucius
 
 
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Pythagoras left us his elegant and useful theorem: A2+B2=C2
 
He also wrote, "Do not eat beans."
……………………………………………………………………Ron Lucius


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Gravity can kill you.
……………………………………………………………………Ron Lucius



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Thursday, February 14, 2013

Septicemic? (Reminiscence)

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What Does 'Septicemic' Mean?

1

In those days, my Associate used to check in with me about 8:15 every morning.  Maratha and my secretary Ronni would chat for a few minutes.  We'd mention whatever needed mentioning to each other, and then go on with our days.  Maratha knew she could just come into my inner office whenever she was motivated to do so, unless Ronni told her I was meeting with someone else... And she did.  She came right in when she needed direction, consultation, or approval.  We would discuss whatever was on her mind, and then she'd go away again.

As to approval, after we'd been working together long enough for us to know how the other approached matters or how one kind of issue was likely to work out, Maratha would sometimes walk in and say, "Just say Yes (or No) to this..." before telling me what I was going to approve or deny.  It worked great.

The point is, we communicated a lot, as needed, at the moment.

But as if that were not enough, we also set aside a regular two hours every week - Wednesday mornings from ten to noon (if we needed that long) - so that we could be sure not to lose track of long-term projects or issues we were watching or other matters that might have been important but not urgent like everything else.

2

One summer Wednesday morning, Maratha had said in the chit-chat session first thing that day that she didn't feel quite right and worried that she might have been coming down with something.

When she showed up again at ten for our weekly meeting, I naturally asked how she was getting along.  She said Not good, adding that a friend with whom she'd spent some time over the last weekend had come down with some kind of flu.  I told her she should go home, but she said she would but only after we'd had our meeting.

As we sat there in my office, slogging through several matters, Maratha was her usual strictly-business self, except she just couldn't seem to sit still.  She said the joints in her legs felt sore even though she hadn't been working out.  But we kept plugging along until we'd finished our business a little before noon.  I reminded her she ought to go home and take care of herself.

She said she'd clear up some things and get the staff organized to cover for her, and would then be off for the rest of the day.

3

I went home for lunch.  Our children were away with friends or family, so it was just the two of us, my wife and me.  Naturally I told Ashlie about Maratha's discomfort.  We had our sandwiches with fruit for dessert, and I lay down for a few minutes, as I often did.

This was summer, remember.  But after dozing a few minutes, I rummaged through a drawer so I could throw a blanket over me.  I mentioned to Ashlie that I was chilled, and turned the fan at the window so that it didn't blow right at me on the bed.

We talked about my staying in nap-mode for an extra half-hour (fortunately I didn't have anything specific scheduled at 1 o'clock)... By this point I was shivering.  Ashlie brought me a second blanket, and we talked about my apparently coming down with that damn flu that Maratha must have passed along to me.  In another half-hour or so, Ashlie called to tell Ronni I was out of commission for the day.  We were hoping it was one of those "overnight" things and I would be back at work Thursday morning.

Pretty soon, I was sleeping fitfully.  Ashlie felt my forehead, and in-between dozes, took my temperature.  I don't remember the numbers, but they were high enough for Ashlie to call my internist to see what time she could drag me over to see him.

4

No, the doctor wouldn't be in until Thursday morning.  I could come in then for a quick consult.  There was a virus going 'round...

After another half-hour of the sweats and then more chills, Ashlie called my doctor's service again to find out who would be able to see me right away.  That's how we found out - didn't everybody know? - in our town all the doctors (many lawyers too, we eventually learned) everyone took summer Wednesday afternoons off... to play golf, was what we were told.

How about the Emergency Room? my wife asked.  Would her husband be waiting two or three hours on those uncomfortable chairs (without my blankets or other home equipment) until someone could tell him he was sick and should go home and stay in bed?  Yes, probably, we were told.  (By the way, Walk-in Clinics didn't exist then, at least not in our town.)

5

So, toughing it out on our own at home seemed the only option.  Ashlie gave me some all-purpose pain pills, and I dozed off again.  The plan was for me to have a hot bath every so often.  That might help me feel a little better too.  I was hoping Maratha wasn't suffering through the same symptoms.  She was single...   Should we ask Ronni to call?  (I can't remember if we did...)

When I awoke after one of my longer naps, hot and sweaty, I hauled myself up to go to the bathroom... Which I did, but wondering just how bad I looked, I peered over at the mirror above the vanity.

Yikes!  I almost jumped out of my skin.  I called Ashlie to come have a look.

The lower right side of my face was hugely swollen, as though I'd had a tooth extracted a couple of hours before.  But there was no pain, in my tooth or anywhere else. ...And of course, I had not in fact had anything extracted.

6

Well, surprising as it may seem, this was good news.  And Ashlie knew just what to do. 

As I dragged myself back to bed, Ashlie got on the 'phone again, this time to Dr. Kraus's office; he was the oral surgeon who'd extracted our children's wisdom teeth.  He was finishing up his last appointment at his firm's office in Rock Hill, a small town about 45 minutes south.  We'd have to get through the night on our own, taking a few precautions the office prescribed for me.  But I had a firm appointment in the Corning office at 7:30 a.m.  The oral surgeon - "Hal" to us - and his assistant would come in early before their first regularly scheduled patient. 

And the nice little town of Ronan was only 15 minutes to the west, too.


7

We were on our way west before anyone else was on the way to work.  The streets and roads were almost empty, even though at that time of year it was already broad daylight.

Not that either of us felt like celebrating the nice weather.  Far from it.  Ashlie was haggard from a night of little sleep  Her lips were drawn tight with the strain.  And I must have looked like a zombie with a toothache - a pale grey-blue, unshaven monster, with the left side of my jaw bulging out an inch or two.

I tried not to lean too heavily on Ashlie as she helped me shuffle across the parking lot and up to the office door.  When we got inside and the assistant came out, we heard her little sharp intake of breath - in other words, her little gasp.  That isn't good, we were thinking.

"Dr. Hal" joined us immediately.  There was a minimum of chit-chat.  We could bring him up-to-date on our children later.  The two of them hustled about while Ashlie hovered behind, trying to stay out of their way.  Driving in, she'd taken some comfort in noticing that Dr. Kraus's office was next door to the Rock Hill Hospital.

8

My blood pressure was 60 over 40.  120 over 80 is "normal," as we knew, and I was usually close to that mark.  I now know that 40 over 20 is often fatal... So I was closer to dead than to my norm.  And I was still conscious too.

The doctor told me I had an abscess in a lower molar, explaining that indicated that quite a lot of bacterial infection had grown up around a deteriorating root.  He gave me a shot of a fairly potent broad-spectrum antibiotic - "Kafir" I think it was called - saying he would call in a prescription for a small number of tablets for me to be taking for the next 24 or 36 hours.  He stuck another needle into my gum in the lower left side of my mouth.  He must have numbed that part of my mouth beforehand, because I don't remember any prick or pain from that second needle.

I do remember, though, the white puss that spurted out.  Yuck.  Dr. Kraus seemed to have been expecting the little splash.  Ashlie remained calm. 

The doctor filled up his syringe with more puss which he said he'd send to the lab in the hospital next door.  By tomorrow afternoon - oh, yes, I was slowly realizing:  there were two work days left that week - by then, Dr. Kraus would call Ashlie to say she could go over to the drug store to pick up a more focused antibiotic for me to take.  He said I was "septicemic" and was to take every pill in the new prescription.

The crisis was over.  A trained professional was taking care of me.  I had a firm diagnosis and was started on a treatment.  And I hadn't died.

9

It was astounding how long it took to recover.  I feel sure I did take the rest of the week off, even though after only a day or so of antibiotics I was feeling much better.  But I did tire easily for many weeks thereafter.  Shortly, I was going into the office for a few hours, half a day perhaps, and then returning home for a nap... or more.  The weather was pleasant outside and sunny.  I used to sit on the back porch and bask like a snake in the sun.

I remember now that it was during this period of sunlit afternoons soaking up the vitamin D in the sunshine when I read a biography of Dizzy Dean.   The author happened to mention - in passing - that one "off day" late in the 1930s "Ol' Diz" had played with the Cardinals an exhibition game against the Reds in the grand old ball park in the city where we lived (as we do now).  I must have read quite a bit in this slow recuperative period, but I remember that.

10

I took on as much work as I could, though, despite my family's anxieties.  One weekend about six weeks or so after that terrible Wednesday, a two-day out-of-town retreat had been scheduled for a long time, one of whose primary purposes was for me to report on a contentious, complex long-term project I had been leading for several years.  There were also a lot of team-building activities planned, so that we could all be sure to be on the same page.  A rather well-known organizational psychologist had been contracted, and all of us had done a fair amount of preparatory work to get ready...

I didn't think I could just not go, despite the expectation that the two (and a half) days would be frenetic, maybe stressful, and l-o-n-g...

So, I tagged along, with the assurance from the President that no one would be shocked if I wandered away now and then to lie down for a while. 

The first day took place in a conference center in a remodeled grand old, historic mansion up on an isolated hilltop.  There was nowhere special for me to go, I discovered, so I remember cozying up for several quiet naps on the floor of the little copy room upstairs off the hall among the former bedrooms, now made into conference rooms for "break-out" sessions.

Well, yes, it was a bit heroic at that.


11

I'd never had an absecessed tooth before, and haven't had another since, thank goodness.  The follow-up root canal was tedious but not really painful... at least not relatively speaking.  But it was still a year or more before I felt really healthy and strong again. 

Why couldn't I have just had the flu?



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