Formerly...

...Colusa Regional Medical Center.

AFAIK, there's still no radiology, ICU, or emergency...

Also, I don't see why it's nervy for a member of the Way family to be posting this - certain medical professionals made certain choices regarding my father, but we had no part in what happened to the previous administration and the health care center - there was no lawsuit, and we were never talked to by the CSMB...

(Back story: apparently, my father had been, like, the worst patient ever; in the Fall of 2015, a day before he was to be transferred to hospice care, he was subject to patient abandonment, left at the nearby casino's hotel...)

I WUZ ROBBED, MISTAH TRUMP! DAMN OBAMACARE!

Argh! Why am I up at all hours of the night? I have too much cleaning to do, house AND el carro...

"THEY'RE COMING TO GET YOU, BARBARA..." "BRAAAAINS!": So tomorrow is psychiatry with Dr. Dan -- rejiggering the regimen, as it were: antipsychotics, antidepressants... And I will talk about my continued methylamphetamine ingestion (Desoxyn? Why yes, I have ultimatums prepared for when at first I hastily and with hostility infer any hesitance to write a scrip) and pot use, as well as what we need to do to get me on Chantix so that the tobacco is a-goner. Two weeks ago, those fuckers fucking with the AT&T network and my phone, pretending to be calling from Havlir's, cost us a lot of money and continue to keep the stress at home too high, but the upside is that UCSF PHP fit me in for virtually all but a blood draw, and neurology came up as a big issue (true to her heroic, "I'm frequently in Africa" nature, my primary care physician did a rough, head-to-toe, field neurolgical assessment -- never mind about faking out that right ear -- DIANE!!! LOL -- So I'm sure Dr. Dan and I will discuss that as well... Who knows? Maybe I will yet end up at UCSF Mt. Zion (and then on to Stanford, no doubt -- GO BEARS! BERKELEY RULES!) Doc H. talks big about a CAT scan (there will always be that part of her that wishes to put my camel to bed without its dinner), but who likes magnetic resonance imaging better than a patient who's previously been snookered as to the results of one done three years prior?

And no, I wouldn't mind at all if @MissMayim consulted on my case -- I am nothing if not a devotee of the sciences... I'd just have a real, really difficult-for-once issue if I ever saw Thierry Mugler or Patch Adams (or Robin Williams in a Walgreen's red nose, for that matter) show up at my bedside -- the latter scenarios horrify for the obvious reasons...

Three Links I Like Today...

http://www.new-otec.com/

https://howdoyousaythatword.com/

https://twitter.com/Refugees

...

Happy emoji day!
エモジデイをおめでとうございます!
⌒(o＾▽＾o)ノ

...

Experiencing life difficulties due to Mom's sciatica blow-out... Am taking her to Colusa for a follow-up to the recent Glenn Medical ER visit... Wish me luck!

...

Coming to a Hot Topic t-shirt nowhere near my intolerant black ass...

...

My plausibly deniable, imaginary boyfriend's name is Mike. He's from Napa and is a Lance Corporal in the United States Marine Corps (reserve). His code name with the CIA is Sweet Pea. WHISKEY BRAVO GORGONZOLA!!! HUH GUYS?

********

ACTION: #KillTheBill

Medicaid Country: Dawn In Rural America

Call 866-246-9371 and urge your Senator to REJECT the Better Care Reconciliation Act, which unfairly affects HIV-positive Medicaid recipients, and weakens consumer protections....

FYI

I live in an area populated by people who need painkillers or who (seldom, I'm sure) use heroin. These are, according to Redding first responders on the news, approximately $80 per dose IIRC. I myself am listed as having had Narcan training with the City and County of San Francisco, and can procure a box of them at least once a year...

They are Carpuject cartridges, injectible (similar to the EpiPen.) If an opiate user has darkened in color, and has become non-responsive, one of these can be used to save his or her life. (Bear in mind, of course, that the person to whom it is administered comes out of it in withdrawal -- not terribly pleasant!) Anyway, I'm offering these for free to anybody who contacts me for one (mum's the word -- your business is your own.) I'll try to always carry at least one on me when I'm out and about... Feel free to approach me and talk to me about them...

Ravens

RIP, Miz Mary DuMont, November 13, 1955 - February 28, 2017

(These pics are from the celebration of life yesterday in San Francisco, at Lennon Studios, which are primarily for music performance and production -- 274 Dore Alley, I think?)

Mary was a good person to know... She was such a great help in times of need, and a better friend maybe than I deserved...  So much about her passing leaves me mystified: some of the details, and the fact that the cause of death, as related to me, was cirrhosis caused by Hepatitis C... I don't quite get it, but it isn't maybe mine to "get."  Miss you much, Miss Thang.

Hep C info and support group at 117 6th St., San Francisco, where Pauli and the gang can set you up with peer help and info -- CDC Hep C FAQ -- Harvoni article

++++++++

CASA DE MEEEOW RENOVATION CAMPAIGN; WILLIAM R WAY BOX 206 STONYFORD CA 95979 or william.robert.way@gmail.com...

FACECROOK TWITCHER

Same Logistics as 1/1/2017

Recalling the "187" calls of the '80s, the best of which went the right way (girls screaming in fear and delight as they found themselves broken in by heroes, inexplicably...), we can help set things to rights...

Again, front (West) door unlocked. First door to the left down the hallway. Careful with noise -- opening the front door is screechy. My bedroom light will be on, though. The rest is up to visitors. If law enforcement, please rest assured this is no "gotcha." I'm straight dope, WYSIWYG all the way.

(Unlike last time, I will have glass to help. No liquor, weed, or viagra, though...) God bless, and good luck...)

(415-203-6957)

UPDATE:  Door unlocked, hole prepped. All you need is backbone and full nuts.

UPDATE II: To sweeten the pot, here's the rear:

UPDATE III 3:06AM: Still hankerin' after a visit from someone. Think I'll lay down, but the door's still unlocked.

Hey!

DAMN, CRACKER, WATCHUDOIN' TWEAKIN ALL THE TIME?

If I Were A Rich Man...

...I would broach the subject of underwriting the construction of a new wing at San Francisco General Hospital.  It would be devoted to patients who suffer from problems that at first blush seem perfectly pedestrian but for some reason or another when those particular patients in their individual cases have those problems, they happen to piss most everyone else off, and no one can adequately explain why.

Suburban Three Day Weekend

"Baby, I'm home."

"I'm in the kitchen."

He throws his jacket and laptop bag on the couch.  "You pick up that teen?  I need to get high."

"You know it.  Stuff's in the stash next to the hash.  Bubble's on the coffee table.  It's a bit floral, but not bug-spray."

He casually fidgets through his pockets for a pick.  She always prefers butane, but he's convinced a Bic wielded correctly makes the dope last longer.

"What's it like?  Dick-in-the-dirt?  We gonna be fucking for hours?"

"Maybe for a bit.  Kind of a Harriet the Spy high, for me.  Try it.  You might want to do some blogging on media analysis, or let off some indignant steam for the way they're always doing that sweet gay kid over in California..."

He vaporizes a few hits, then kicks back...

Well Slap Me And Call Me Philip K. Dick

I just had an idea for a story in which someone invents a drug to combat cold and flu symptoms that's also a somewhat addictive euphoric.  One of the side effects of the drug is that it reveals to everyone else in the world who the person on it is and that person's psychological and intellectual make-up.  The situation inspires certain people to torture, persecute and kill by proxy those on the drug who are intelligent and good, while leaving alone those elements on the drug who engage in antisocial, undesirable and criminal behavior so that the drug develops a bad reputation among those factions in society who would see it prohibited -- the prohibitionists of course also having the motive of wanting to enrich themselves via the systems that arrest, prosecute and incarcerate those who either purvey the drug or use it.

Religious Freedom Restoration Act

Old news, and probably already challenged in court, I know, but I have to wonder:  If you're in Michigan and need to call first responders, how do they know if you're gay in order to decide whether or not to help you?  I guess maybe if you flame out in the ambulance, or if you're a tweaker -- straight dudes do gay shit on meth, so maybe...And the EMTs (except for the stoner driver) always know if you're a tweaker, and it matters to them...

Mi Fuego

Mi fuego es muy sabroso y muy picante y muy precioso.  Ay, papi, china mi culo!

(Shout out to all mis amigos on Landers.  Keep pushing those shards, vato!)

Who Didn't See This Coming

I've said it before:  if you're on welfare, that's pretty damn rough, and I don't begrudge you any drugs you want to do.  Besides, nobody proposing the drug testing of welfare recipients has a fucking clue about behavioral healthcare, addiction, or the root causes of poverty.

Anyway, cocaine is a helluva drug...

Tough Teachings To Ease The Mind

"You can’t go preventing pleasure and pain, you can’t keep the mind from labeling things and forming thoughts, but you can put these things to a new use. If the mind labels a pain, saying, “I hurt,” you have to examine the label carefully, contemplate it until you see that it’s wrong: the pain isn’t really yours. It’s simply a sensation that arises and passes away, that’s all." - Upasika Kee Nanayon

The Thirteenth Step

Drinking, smoking and drugging cover a multitude of virtues -- a valid and proven survival technique for those of us standing on the threshold of nirvana and turning back to help others reach the same goal.

Still, I've cut the drinking back to a pint a week; I'm no Chögyam Trungpa.  I've stopped partying for now, even though methamphetamine has time and again saved my life, and led to much insight and wisdom; I don't need that stuff any more to induce visions or hear voices.  The next project:  cutting back on or quitting the nicotine.  That last one is going to prove rather difficult, but I need to live as long as possible (as long as life is worth living...)

Not That The Onus Is On Me...

...to "prove" anything, but I think when I get paid next month I'm just going to go ahead and buy an otoscope, and post a picture of my outer ear canal and eardrum.  Then we can all agree for once and for all whether or not I do have some kind of hardware in my skull (I don't see how it's possible, because I don't recall any recovery time being necessary after the procedure was allegedly performed in 2009.  Weird shit.)

It should at least put to rest any debate that's going on out there among those schizophrenics, tweakers, and other undiagnosed individuals as to whether or not I personally have a government implant.  I mean, I could just be as crazy as everybody else.  That is a possibility...

The Book

(PARTIAL) TABLE OF CONTENTS:

1.  Toltecs, Aztecs and Mayans:  The Vision Quest
2.  1917:  Benzedrine  (The Japanese)
3.  Other Voices, Other Rooms
4.  1936 - 1972
5.  Needles, Guns and Glass:  Lots of Laughs
6.  Altamont and the Psychic Wasteland
7.  The Rules
7a.  Pay to play, then pay after you play
7b.  You have to give to get
7c.  You must give once you've gotten
7d.  Notes on etiquette
8.  Shabu Madness
9.  The Council
10.  The Game
11. Cops and the People In The Wall
12. The Sylvan
13. Twisting to the End
14. The Gift
15. The King:  Shadows and The Man in the Hat
16. Three Methods of Time Travel
17. Revelations:  The Antichrist, The Beast, The Darkness, and The Light
18. Just Desserts
19. The Future Is An Open Plain

Dad At Colusa Regional Medical Center

When I was a little boy, my father would always tell me, "Life isn't fair."  But he was wrong, like he proved to be wrong about everything.  Life is exceedingly fair, and no one gets away with anything for very long.  My mother was more correct:  "It always catches up with you in the end and kicks your ass."  Whose to say?  It's not about naivete or cynicism, delusion or realism.  It's beyond blame and fault.  It's about memory.  How does our memory serve us?

In most non-sociopaths, memory is a faulty thing.  Better to rely on faith than on memory.  I personally have a memory like that of an elephant.  I can't remember specific calender dates (making me a bad plaintiff), but I can remember the tone and gist of what's come to pass.  I'm kind of unique.  (Also, I smell funny to some people, but that is a nonsequitur...)

If memory serves, I was subject to abuse at the hands of those who had me as their charge to keep.  I was mistreated, invaded, assaulted, constrained, and tormented.  I was subjected to chemical restraint at Saint Francis Medical Center in San Francisco -- illegal in the state of California.  I was told by the property management at 230 Eddy, "I don't want to know why you're qualified to live in subsidized housing.  Then I'd be guilty of discrimination."  I was told by my social worker at San Francisco's General Hospital's Ward 86 (get it?  You're 86'd:  the last bar you can be thrown out of in San Francisco) -- I was told this:  that in the case where I was powerless against the powerful, I was to blame for the situation in which I found myself.  The only defense those who did these things had was that it left no physical mark besides the cigarette burns I inflicted on myself in order to obey the voices, using pain to anchor myself in reality to save myself.

But this is not about me.  A lot has been about me, but this is about everyone but me.  I've never needed a boyfriend I could cuddle with more in my life.  I'd even sleep with Matthew Barney right now if it meant a modicum of comfort and a transient moment of bliss.  I'm so blind to the world of cause and effect sometimes, no matter how in it I am mired.

So my dad left the hospital against medical advice.  At least, that's their story and he's abiding by it.  There's only these key pieces of evidence I have:  he was non-ambulatory patient who for months had threatened to leave, and had accused staff of holding him against his will, but only last night did they call and say, "He's threatening to leave against medical advice."  I told them, "So all you have to do is refuse to assist him in leaving.  No sweat."  Then this morning, I got a call from dad saying he was at the casino and needed a ride home.  I assumed it was a bullshit call.  I phoned the medical center's skilled nursing facility and asked the nurses station, which is right next to my dad's room,, "Is he still there?"

She put me on hold.  Big tell.

She came back on the line to say he left AMA.  I swear to God (of whom the sociopaths have a certainty -- bless their hearts -- and in whom the rest of us have to gin up faith), I'm going to get a lawyer (possibly via this blog post) and have a case.  We are a poor, well-educated family which has always turned it's nose up at litigation.  But this smells like an out-of-court settlement situation.

What do you, the Perry Mason fans at home think?

Research Into The Events of 2009

ABIs, brain implants, and cochlear implants.  I love Wikipedia as a jumping off point for solid research into certain technologies and phenomena.  Did you know, for instance, that cochlear implants of a certain kind can induce psychosis?  Fascinating stuff.

I feel like Jaime Sommers crossed with Sylvia Brown.