Mary Easley And John Edwards: Perfect Demonstrations Of Being Two-Faced in America

The Raleigh N&O reports that, in the wake of a Federal investigation of her sleaze-ball husband and the dead resumes of various "suits" littering the lawn in front of administrative buildings, ex-N.C. First Lady, Mary Easley, is contesting her termination by N.C. State University.

You-all know what I think. Karma says Ms. Sleazely needs to take her turn in the same corrupt/pay-to-play North Carolina courts I did . . . the ones her husband and his administration didn't give a rat's tail about policing when I begged for help.

I must admit, I've had some fun in the comments section of the N&O's story today.

Meanwhile, two days late to an ugly story in the New York Daily News (apparently there's a John Edwards-Reille Hunter sex tape floating around somewhere), the N&O presents a watered-down (i.e. more Elizabeth-friendly) version to the more backwoods & gullible plebes in North Carolina.

I had some fun there too. And at the N&R's "Off the Record".

Here's what I want to top-level/up-link/top-load (whatever the hell Sue calls it):

You know, back during the last Edwardian Presidential campaign . . . when John-Boy was using the tragedy of New Orleans as a stepping stone . . . when Saint Elizabeth was "converging south" in Greensboro . . . and when I was trying to related my experience as a constituent-in-public-service-BURNED - AND COMPLETELY BLOWN OFF BY SENATOR EDWARDS - to the fawning "progressive" GSO blogging elite (ala Polinsky, ala Cone) . . . I never in a million-zillion years imagined that Edwards' slime-ball-lawyerly-hypocrisy would ever be on such perfect display as it is now.

Ed and Sue will not get to jump on the mattress in the Lincoln. Too bad. So Sad.

And OBTW, I knew EXACTLY what John Edwards was . . . based on the way he treated me when I asked for my then-Senator for his help (as a lowly constituent).

It actually kind of mirrors the way I feel about a certain local blogger-journalist dangling the carrots now.

Time and a whole lot of effort has shown that Dr. Mary Johnson isn't so ("batshit") crazy after all. Maybe it's time karma came full circle.

As the local doctor lanquished in a sea of corruption and the local big-gun bloggers yawned & taunted, the Sleazelys perfected their "let 'em eat cake" act. The state's newspapers, sucking up to the Democratic machine, could not be bothered to look past the carefully-crafted sound bite.

Moreover, I could see through all the Edwardian schemes & machinations (including using Converge South as a PR tool) long ago, and I told you what John & Liz really were.

Two faced in America.

Neither Snow Nor Rain Nor Heat Nor Gloom Of Night . . .

. . . stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.

But the PostMaster General just might.

This matters to someone I care about. Maybe it matters to you too.

I've often argued with this someone about what it would take to fix the Post Office. Sounds like it may beyond fixing at this point.

Doesn't bode well for government-run healthcare does it?

There Be Ghosts In These Parts

Ever since I was a little girl scared poopless by my train-chasing Father's tale of poor Joe Baldwin and the Maco Light . . . or Mama's rendition of Bath's hoofprints to hell, I've been addicted to ghost stories, especially North Carolina ghost stories.

Spag refers his readers to Greensboring's latest on Lydia's bridge.

My Last Word On Michael Jackson: Jesse, Al, "The Family" And Lisa Marie

I hadn't plan to post anymore on this subject. But friends have been twittering (not really - I'm an e-mail girl) back and forth, and you cannot turn on the TV without being force-fed beautifully lit/digitally-enhanced imaginary humping, crotch-grabbing, and super-model-chasing (with lovely melodies in the background) . . .

. . . and that's just the "mourners".

First with regards to Al Sharpton, Jesse Jackson, and "the family", this is a comment I left at the Raleigh N&O:

Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton. Now right there is a pair. It's been sickening to watch them suck whatever living they make off this latest black American tragedy.

OF COURSE Jesse held a press conference (he wants those "wounds" open and raw and bleeding for weeks-to-come because that means more attention for Jesse). This "reverend" is worse than the worst of the fallen tele-evangelists.

OF COURSE "the family" that never said NO . . . "the family" that stood by and enabled and let the-gloved-one do whatever he wanted (from carving up his face to into something horrifically unrecognizable . . . to crossing all kinds of inappropriate lines with children) is now ready to blame someone else for his death.

The second autopsy was a given. Heavy sigh. Wouldn't it be nice if this country could get past the race-baiting, "We don't trust the authorities to do their job properly," CDT that Jesse & Al specialize in?

And then there's Lisa Marie Presley. Because I've done the pilgrimage to Graceland (several times), and no Christmas is Christmas without listening to her Father, I've always held a soft spot in my heart for this reluctant princess of American rock. I think she's quite talented in her own right, but may never get her real due. I think she's very smart (in a world-weary way) and has a good head on her shoulders. And I've heard she is great Mom to her kids.

I also believe Lisa Marie Presley genuinely loved Michael Jackson (as you can see in her facial expressions & body language in this interview with Diane Sawyer) inasmuch as the-manchild would let her love him. While I suspect Elvis did turn over in his grave when they married, in a very strange way, that relationship made sense.

On the other hand, you can also tell by some of the interviews she gave after the marriage dissolved, that Lisa wanted to cut loose but something held her back.

I look forward to the day when Elvis's daughter feels free to really speak her mind. I think hearing from the woman who wanted to "save" her husband from her Father's fate might provide the best insight of all into what did this.

As to what stopped Michael Jackson's breathing and then his heart, my original prediction stands: A doctor (in this case, a concierge doctor - a topic that has great potential in the medical blogs). In the bedroom. With a needle.

Where was "the angry/confused family" before this played out? They KNEW what was going on. What is there really to be confused about? I mean really. They need look no further than the man/woman in the mirror. The changes that needed to be made were not made.

Of course that speaks to what really killed Michael Jackson . . . and that is a whole nuther story that should keep talking heads and tabloids occupied for months, if not years, to come.

I leave it to them.

Sunday AM Update: That whole nuther story is gonna be interesting.

Cats And Scrubbing Bubbles

This afternoon, I was at the apartment and online - minding my own business on a break between deliveries at the hospital, when my cat TJ (a grey tabby long-hair) casually walked in front of me. He had been upstairs (where the litter-box is).

I sniffed an acrid/very unpleasant sniff, looked up and noted that my normally regal, always-licked-clean fuzzball had streaks of diarrhea-poop on his fuzzy hind quarters. Earlier in the day, TJ had gotten into the kitchen closet (he can open doors) and managed to burrow his way into a bag of dry cat food (that I keep for emergencies) - gobbling until he could barely walk. As my cats now normally dine exclusively on grilled chicken Fancy Feast, the dry food does not agree with his pampered digestive tract.

I slammed down the laptop and grabbed TJ by the tail - to keep him from sitting on the carpet (which had just been shampooed last week). He was hissing and spitting and meoYowling and trying to scratch his way out of my iron grip . . . as I held him away from my body trying not to gag on the smell.

I dashed to the downstairs bathroom, but there was no washcloth by the sink. So I grabbed a Scrubbing Bubbles flushable wipe (I keep a supply by the toilet) and used that.

The trouble with that was that "Scrubbing Bubbles" really does bubble (even the wipes) and TJ's fur became a matted mess of white poopy-smelling bubbles. Still holding the by-now-REALLY-pissed-off cat by the tail, I bounded upstairs to the other bathroom and grabbed the box of Huggies baby-wipes off the counter.

After he was thoroughly wiped down with aloe-vera scented Huggies, TJ got a wipe down with a wet wash-cloth. I am proud to say I accomplished all of this without suffering any wounds.

The offensive litter was scooped and flushed and all was well.

Needless to say, TJ is not speaking to me this evening.

On the other hand, the worshiped-in-a-previous-life Sabine got a big kick out of it.

My Prediction On Michael Jackson: The Doctor, In The Bedroom, With A Needle

After my post on the events of yesterday, a reader e-mailed:

(I) held off on putting my two cents in on the demise of Michael Jackson, and this is because you and ML held him in higher esteem than I did. And, heaven forbid I run afoul of the bulkheads of the Ya Ya's.

This guy was a kooky, bleached out, pedophile. I always changed the channel when he came on MTV way back in the mid to late 1980's. There is weird, and then there's Michael Jackson weird. Remember the time that he held his infant child out of the window? Hanging with Liz Taylor, now that's the height of cool isn't it?

He is probably the reason that I was an REM fan, and remain one now. When Warren Zevon died, now that was sad. This....is just so much cleansing of the cultural waste of our society.

Bearock Alabama will fly in for his funeral, at the taxpayers expense.

Farrah Fawcett should be put on a stamp. Michael Jackson should be stamped out.

I chuckled at this one. First, because I think I've been misunderstood . . . second, because as one of "the bulkheads of the YaYas", I was pleased (tongue firmly-in-cheek) that we are feared (as it should be) . . . and third, because I think Jackson will be the one who winds up on a stamp.

It is, alas, the world we live in.

Here's what I wrote back (slightly edited):

I think, from ML's comment, that she was more enamored of Farrah . . . and put-out that Michael pushed her off the front page.

When folks are dead, I try to remember the good things . . . in this case a whole body of music that I can still tap my feet too - even if I'm creeped out by all the rest (and I am creeped out).

I do own "Thriller". "Billie Jean" was a masterpiece. But I had little use for Michael Jackson's beyond weird predilections - and even less use for the leeches & sycophants & yes-people (including his own family) that let him do the things he did.

And Martin Bashir is just the lowest of the low.

The repetitive plastic surgery was just WAY just over-the-top . . . IMHO, MD's should have gone to jail for assault. But I've got to say that I was never completely convinced Jackson was a pedophile. To me, he seemed to be completely disinterested in sex (*for all of the gyrations and crotch-grabbing and imaginary humping on various videos) - with anyone (including Elvis's daughter). Asexual. But he damned sure crossed some lines that sensible adults do not cross.

He didn't have a childhood. Okay. Fine. He wasn't the only one. Unlike others in that boat, I think he had plenty of time and plenty of money to make up for it and come to terms with it. He never did.

It's for sure that a doctor (directly or indirectly) killed him. Mark my words . . . Demerol or Dilaudid - probably in conjunction with Ambiens . . . did him in.

There you have it. What I really think. I also think I'm done posting on this subject. This is gonna make that Anna Nicole mess look like an English tea party.

And I don't want any of what they're having.

Update: Sent this e-mail as follow-up to my anonymous not-so-enamored-of-the-King-of-Pop reader:

From a Dr. Frank Drackman in a comment thread at the Happy Hospitalist:

Jacko was doin fine till the Ambulance pulled up to the Children's Hospital by mistake....His heart couldn't take the excitement... sounds like Malpractice to me....

And/So. You are not alone;

Not Much Else To Say Today

The beautiful Farrah did not get her miracle, and the once-beautiful King-of-Pop is dead.

I feel old.

Friday Morning Update: I watched the ABC/Blabby Walters "death specials" last night . . . first on Jackson, then on Farrah. I hope I'm not the only one who thought that ABC's choice of Martin Bashir, the quintessential back-stabbing yellow-dog journalist, as a eulogizing correspondent was beyond inappropriate. Watching the clearly hastily-arranged tributes was like watching a couple of slow-moving train wrecks (for some reason that I cannot quite put my finger on, Ryan O'Neal really creeps me out). You want to stop looking. But you can't.

Afterwards I turned off the TV and sat in the dark for a while. I'm gonna try to stay away from the TV over the weekend. Right now, the music is what should be remembered.

I have a couple of posts planned/drafted (including Part Two of my own treatise on the status of local blogging), but I really don't see any point in rushing to get them up. Nobody is going to be reading or talking about anything else for at least a couple of days.

Jackson's death will no doubt be a career-making-or-breaking event for some "lucky" LA county coroner or team of coroners. I can smell the court appearances and book-deals now (Nancy Grace's sneering mug keeps flashing unwanted and unbidden into my consciousness). A quick scan of the Internet news sites this morning reveals that everyone is expecting autopsy results to be out today. There may be some preliminary conclusions released, but I expect/hope that the circling vultures will be disappointed, as full/final results could take several weeks.

This one really needs to be done right.

My strong suspicion is that Jackson's death will turn out to be some kind of "lesser/unintentional" homicide . . . that some enabling someone amongst the fawning leeches in his entourage slipped him too much a of a narcotic that was probably legally prescribed for him by a physician . . . that he simply stopped breathing . . . that his gigantic, super-naturally gifted, misunderstood, chronically-broken heart simply stopped . . . that his unique spark of unparalleled genius was extinguished . . . and that was that.

Very sad. No one ever said NO to this particular Peter Pan.

Poor Sweet Kitty

I like the "girl cop" shows, "The Closer" and "Saving Grace" and "Bones". I'm also a HUGE fan of "Leverage" - which (as you might imagine) speaks to me on a very visceral level.

This past week on The Closer, Chief Brenda (Johnson) had to put her cat, "Kitty", down. It was actually a story arc over a couple of episodes, and I cared more about Kitty than the cases Brenda solved. I even went so far as to check the fan-blogs . . . to see if Kitty's fate would be revealed there.

In the blogs, I discovered that the real Kitty (i.e. the cat "playing" Kitty) was sick too. Shortly after the episode featuring Kitty's demise on-the-air, the real Kitty died.

I've had to do this awful thing more than a few times over the years. And last month, my uncle had to put one of his beloved cats down. I've seen him cry twice - when my Dad died and when his cat died. Animals do have their way with us.

I bawled at the end of this week's episode. Turned to mush and blubber.

Bravo!

I Would Like To Thank Ed Cone. You See, By Thinking A Little Harder, Minds Can Change. He Should Try It Sometime.

The post I was working on as an answer to an "invitation" from the mighty Cone has become quite the beast. And/so, I'm dividing it into two parts.

In the interest of full disclosure, I'm stone-cold sober. I shudder to think what I might write if I were not.

A couple of weeks ago, there was yet another long thread at Ed Cone's on the topic of abortion.

Cone, being Cone, had taken some of the good Doctor Joe Guarino's blog commentary out-of-context (demonstrating that there's no reason whatsoever for Dr. Mary to worry or fret when Ed wants to "interview" her) and used it to demonize Joe.

As an aside, here's the thing that bugs me the most about Mr. Cone's interview request (posed to me on his blog as he rarely comments on mine): I'm an old-school girl, and in my book, real journalists don't publicly dangle carrots as some kind of warped "challenge" (especially to someone they have literally tormented over the years). Real reporters go to the source. They don't put the source in the position of coming to them . . . of begging for the crumbs the reporter might throw.

I have e-mail. I have a phone.

I refuse to feed the monster-ego of Edward Cone by begging him write a story that should have been written by a "hyper-local" journalist six years ago. I doubt he would treat me kindly anyway.

All I'd have for the crawl through the ether would be imaginary scrapes on my knees.

I don't know when exactly it happened (because it wasn't always like this), but somehow, the journalists in North Carolina got caught up in the "pay-to-play" mindset that gave the powers-that-be in nearly every small burg and big city a free pass.

In my own case, because the boys & girls at my hometown newspaper have kept their heads down and their eyes closed (and that's because everything is all about the economic best interests of Randolph Hospital), I turned to the blogosphere. For four years, I have taken every mean-spirited/politically-agendized sling and arrow anyone has wanted to throw (Hi Roach!). I've been banned and delinked and marginalized and called every name in the book.

In stark contrast, the so-called "journalists" at Asheboro's Courier Tribune and the Greensboro News & Record have yet to pose ANY of the tough questions to the people I accuse . . . the people actually in power (who have abused that power) . . . people charged with the public good.

I mean, a smart/good/responsible/conscientious journalist would be asking the question, WHY, if Dr. Mary Johnson is lying about Bob Morrison and Steven Eblin lying, has Randolph Hospital not sued her again?

Of course, it being a black & white GIVEN that Dr. Johnson is telling the truth (because Dr. Johnson has the original documents that prove it), why did these right-honorable-gentlemen feel the need to repeatedly lie TO EVERYONE (from their Board members to Dr. Johnson's patients to the community-as-a-whole) about what they did to Dr. Johnson, and why they did it? Why did they feel the need to lie repeatedly under Oath after Dr. Johnson dragged them to court and the settlement table? And why haven't these lies been exposed to the community very literally deprived of good Pediatricians (plural) who wanted to stay?

Where-oh-where has the local press been?

Well, I'll tell you. The journalists (one of them very-well-named . . . whose family name is tied to all sorts of "cooperative relationships" with Randolph) have been deeply "in the pocket" . . . or "in the tank" . . . or any of the other pejorative descriptive terms one could apply to the Pravda-style journalism they practice . . . of/for the institutions they are supposed to objectively observe & help police.

Yet the Publishers & Editors of these newspapers cannot figure out why circulation is down . . . why readers do not trust them . . . or why they (and their towns) are dying (OBTW "Evil Keith" was back in town this week).

Moreover, the Greensboro News & Record (where Ed Cone's column is featured) has a HORRIBLE track record when it comes to taking the truth and twisting it into something completely unrecognizable . . . ala Jack Perdue and/or David Wray.

So, call me "batshit crazy", but I'm just not inclined to play Ed's game.

I've digressed. We'll talk more about all of this in "Part 2".

Over time, Joe Guarino has become Ed's formidable political & philosophical (conservative) rival in the GSO blogosphere . . . one of several conservative local bloggers who has hung-in-there through all the snark & baiting of the dismal failure that was John Robinson's 2005 "citizen journalism" project . . . a hard-working professional who seems to be more "in tune" with the citizenry around him than any of the journalists that currently cover it . . . and a blogger who lately seems to be getting more traffic and substantive commentary than does our liberal, commie-pinko (tongue firmly in cheek) Ed.

Now, as most of the locals know, Edward Cone of the Cones and I have a history. He remembers it "differently" than I do. Of course he does. The air is pretty thin where he hangs out. But we'll get to that (again, in Part 2).

Let's get to the meat of this post (one I had composed a while back, but forgot to post - then decided to return to when Ed issued his "invitation").

My long held, "politically-correct" position on abortion (stated here) was born from YEARS of the Old Testament moral absolutes I was once certain of being beaten out of me by my toil & labor on the front lines of medicine . . . in other words, by the real world and all of the self-absorbed & uber-entitled people in it.

And so I adopted the philosophy of compromise: Abortion is a necessary evil in a multi-cultural, multi-faith society. There are no absolutes. Blah, blah, blah, blah.

The sad fact was that life was easier if I compromised the views and beliefs I brought with me to medical school . . . the very views and beliefs that got me into medical school in the first place.

But I am so tired of compromising what I believe in order to accommodate someone else. Our modern "civilized" society, especially under our new President, seems hell-bent on rewarding bad behavior while penalizing those who still adhere to those very basic Old Testament commandments (which, let's face it, if we'd all just follow, the world would be a much better place) and, as a result, are productive & fruitful (although these days they may not multiply as fast as those who get the free ride because they do not follow any rules).

I followed the "abortion" thread at Word-Up for a few days without jumping in. Same-old-same-old. Yawn.

But one morning I found myself contemplating one of Edward's comments on the thread . . as I attended a baby freshly born (an absolutely gorgeous/perfect-in-every-way chocolate-colored child).

I gazed down upon the infant in abject wonder as she lay on the warmer . . . while she still had that "freshly-born" smell & stickiness . . . before she had even been bathed. As this tiny everyday miracle wiggled and mewed and opened her eyes - trying to focus on my face through the warm goo of antibiotic ointment that's placed in every newborn baby's eyes (in order to protect them from the evil sexually-transmitted microbes that lurk in the real world) . . . it dawned on me . . .

We ARE conceived in His image. This beautiful, perfect-in-every-way newborn, once conceived, had every RIGHT not to be artificially & prematurely ejected from her Mother's womb, scraped/ripped into tiny pieces, burned to death by concentrated saline or her brains pithed out like a laboratory frog before she was born.

Abortion IS murder. There (in a cold, surgical steel pan destined for the incinerator) but for the grace of God, might have gone you or I.

And/so, I've been wrong. Well, maybe not wrong. But not forthright enough about what I really think.

Now it's not just Ed that's gotten under my skin. I've had cause, over the last month or so, to peruse the legal files (from the battle with Randolph Hospital) and do quite a bit of introspection related to the past and my pursuit of justice over the last decade (if you have any questions about that process, check out the Housecall's sidebar).

I've got to say (again) that I'm pretty put-out with the North Carolina Medical Board (and JCAHO and NC/USDHHS) these days, and if somebody does not soon persuade some Attorney Generals somewhere to open up a can of criminal-case whoop-ass on Bob Morrison & Steven Eblin, I'm going to go hire me some lawyers (instead of just chatting them up) and we'll dance.

And here's the basis of that-lawsuit-now-on-the-drawing-board:

IF YOU REQUIRE DUTIES OF DOCTORS, YOU PROTECT THEM. YOU DO NOT ABANDON THEM TO THE WOLVES!

Moreover, I would not have the civil case I have now (against state & federal regulatory bodies as opposed to the hospital) if I had listened to Ed Cone & company and fallen back into a black hole of civil litigaiton with Randolph Hospital.

If you give the government long enough, they'll serve up their own heads.

And that's what the President of the North Carolina Medical Board has done. I had an obligation & duty to blow the whistle - even back in 1998. WHERE WERE THEY? Physicians who file complaints in GOOD FAITH to governmental agencies & regulatory bodies like the N.C. Medical Board are supposed to be protected from retaliation. AGAIN, WHERE WAS THE MEDICAL BOARD - OR THE STATE - OR THE FEDS - TO TELL THAT TO RANDOLPH WHEN THEY SUED ME FOR "LIBEL" (A SLAPP SUIT I HAD TO DEFEND ALL BY MY LONESOME)? I sent the N.C. Medical Board copies of the criminal complaint I forwarded to Randolph County's useless, worthless District Attorney's office in 2003 (before any statutes of limitations on civil claims against Randolph ran out), and again in 2005. The Board can make the referrals up the law enforcement food chain that Garland Yates has not. They can attach STRONG recommendations consistent with a position that doctors doing their sworn duty should not be retaliated against . . . that it simply WILL NOT BE TOLERATED in North Carolina. And perjury (in this case, multiple counts) has no statute of limitations.

WHERE IN THE HELL HAS THE MEDICAL BOARD BEEN? NOW, ELEVEN YEARS AFTER MY LIFE WAS RIPPED TO SHREDS FOR PUTTING A PATIENT FIRST, THEY HAVE THE CAHOONES TO LECTURE ME ON MY DUTY TO REPORT MEDICAL BADNESS? ARE THEY FRICKING KIDDING ME?

I've alluded, several times, to the case of Breton Juberg, formerly the Chief of OB-Gyn at Randolph Hospital and a senior partner at Central Carolina Women's Center. I'm not going to re-hash all of that story in this post, (although it does give the hospital's current ad campaign, "Look Inside", a whole new meaning). But (1) the subject of Breton came up during my conversation with the Medical Board last week, and (2) my Mom and I were talking about some of this stuff over the weekend. Since "truth & reconciliation" seems to be all the rage these days, let me share this truth:

After Breton's bad judgement caught up with him, and as the ugly business played itself out (before he was disciplined by the Board, and left his practice and resigned his privileges at Randolph), he started attending church . . . First Baptist Church.

My church. The church where I (and my YaYas) were raised. The church my parents (and I occasionally) attended. The church where I currently tithe (although I've yet to write this month's check). The church that the parents of the child whose life I intervened to save attended.

And one Sunday morning, the man who aborted his own child was publicly embraced (in the spirit of Christian forgiveness), and his contrition endorsed as genuine by the pastor.

Now, I bear Breton no ill will. He's perhaps the only physician who ever did me wrong in Asheboro (either actively or passively) who had the gumption/fortitude to say, "Mary, I'm sorry."

And, as I've said before, I respect that. He made a way-big mistake. He paid dearly for it. He expressed remorse. I would not be talking about it now were it not relevant to the story.

I also "get" what the pastor was trying to do for Breton. I really do. A basic tenant of the Christian faith . . . my faith . . . is that even the most horrible actions can be forgiven if one truly repents and takes up the way of the Cross.

But the thing that I cannot reconcile, to this very day, is that the pastor of First Baptist Church (whose back I willingly took in this blogosphere not so very long ago) HAS NOT EVER OFFERED ONE WORD OF PUBLIC SUPPORT TO/FOR DR. MARY JOHNSON . . . THIS DESPITE KNOWING EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED.

So let's review. The man who aborted his own child was publicly embraced and forgiven . . . and thus absolved (at least for appearances' sake) . . . enabled to move on and start a new life.

But the home-grown woman who defied the-threats-of-a-bunch-of-greedy-medically-clueless-mill-town-sharks-in-suits and saved a child's life remains the bastard step-child of Asheboro's medical community . . . publicly humiliated, never vindicated or adequately compensated, and forever banished to a disjointed life on the road.

And NONE of the "good" people (many of them supposedly Godly) who have excused and shielded and/or over-looked (as opposed to overseen) the actions of these over-rated, over-paid jerks for so long . . . people in positions of oversight from Asheboro to Greensboro to Raleigh to Washington . . . people who talk real pretty about "accountability" and "transparency" and "small-town-values" and even healthcare "reform" . . . NOT ONE of them has ever entertained the notion that maybe, just maybe, it's far past the time that the businessmen who screwed-up (and lied about it and got caught) were cut loose and thrown under the ambulance.

I ask you dear reader, how do I reconcile these things? And why am I supposed to? Why am I always the one who has to turn-the-other-cheek and roll over and "move on" and forgive . . . while everyone else who lied and cheated and generally behaved like amoral assholes . . . gets to skip happily along?

It's cheap grace. Where are the good men? Where are the good women?

With all of this in mind, I chimed in at Ed's:

I know this is fruitless, but Edward, if you want to "work together in ways that promote mutually agreeable goals", then YOU might start by NOT demonizing fellow blogger, Dr. Joe Guarino, or putting words in his mouth.

Again, I know from experience that it's pointless to get you to admit you were wrong.

Ultimately, in order to reduce unwanted pregnancies, you have to change minds. Because minds govern behavior.

"If we all agreed that abortion involved the murder of babies, then we wouldn't be having this discussion." (It's in blue because it's Edward at his most "progressive".)

I blinked a few times when I read this. And I've been mulling it over ever since I saw it. And the more I mull it over, the more I see it Joe and Cara's "black & white" way - despite the position I've taken for so long - that abortion, while it's something I could never do or choose, is a "necessary evil" in this society (such as it is).

But abortion is a medical procedure that snuffs out a life (you left that part out). Not a "potential life" (especially not at the "late-term" stage), but a life and all its potential.

That truth dawned on me this morning as I gazed into the alert and blinking eyes of a baby freshly born.

Ergo, Abortion is homicide ("murder" being a very harsh word). There really isn't any question about that despite all of the rationalization to the contrary.

I guess the question begs, is the homicide ever "justifiable" or not? That's where the legality comes in.

And there you have it. Just by thinking a little harder, minds can change.

Practically speaking, I don't know how this revelation will affect my approach to everyday life & practice. I occasionally "diagnose" an adolescent with pregnancy, and I am one of those doctors who believes in informed consent. Informed consent means a woman (even a child-woman) knows about all of her legal options - not just the ones I would prefer she accept/follow.

And there still remain those rare instances where the Mother's medical health depends on ending a pregnancy . . . as well as cases of rape and/or incest . . . and/or horrific birth defects that are incompatible with life outside the womb.

The devil is always in the shades of grey.

Abortion is certainly a soul-sucking choice for some. But in the real world, I've observed that it's not-so-much for others . . . because society has, for far too long, cushioned the consequences of the mistakes that lead to that choice.

Lately, as the charts documenting the choice to use abortion as a form of birth control roll under my nose, it's harder to keep the understanding smile plastered on my face (although I do manage to do it). I don't know if it's because I'm older now . . . and just world-weary . . . or if it's because I always longed for a child - a daughter - but never was able to stop and have one . . . largely because of what a local hospital cooperating with Cone (and protecting the actions of a then Cone-owned doctor) did to me . . . while the world I once wanted to save looked the other way.

Legally, I know abortion is here to stay. Pandora is out of that box and her skirts are way up over her head. But by damn, I don't have to like it. I shouldn't have to fund a woman's choice to murder (I'm using the harsher word) with my tax dollars.

And do I think we should have better medical guidelines and much stricter laws to govern when and under what circumstances abortion is done (i.e. what exactly "justifies" infanticide) in this country? Should there be some rules other than "anything goes" right up until the day the "fetus" is born?

Yes. Abso-fricking-lutely!

I also think that if we did have more rules . . . about this and a number of other things some very selfish, irresponsible people now regard as "rights", social behavior in this country (out of necessity) would change. It might be a slow-go. But behavior and expectations would change (as they obviously did over the 50-or-so years of the "anything goes" welfare state that got us to where we are now).

I think it's what folks like Joe Guarino and Cara Michelle have been saying all along. If I'm wrong, they are welcome to correct me.

Of course, amongst Ed Cone's more liberal/enlightened/open-minded friends & colleagues, my opinion might make me an ignorant, crazy, judgemental right-wing mouth-breather. Whatever.

So. I sincerely want to thank Edward Cone. He helped change my mind.

As for the interview that, as of right now, is not going to happen, Dr. Mary Johnson . . . sick and tired of wearing Randolph's Hospital's treadmarks on her forehead as some kind of warped scarlet letter . . . in the GSO blogosphere since 2005 . . . and by Ed Cone's own-admission-on-his-own-blog making serious headway (despite the best efforts of a great many people) . . . is NOT going away. Moreover, the Internet being the Internet, there just is no good way to spin this . . . or hide it anymore.

Sooner or later, the News & Record is going to have egg on its face. Because this story is going to be in the newspapers. One way or the other.

The only real question is how much egg are we talking about? Will it be scrambled? Poached? Deviled?

So if Edward Cone . . . in a snit because the author of "Dr. J's Housecalls" won't crawl to him . . . goes ahead and writes his June 2009 article for the News & Record about the status of blogging . . . . without interviewing the local doctor who has used the blogopshere to take on ALL the big dawgs (including a hospital indirectly involved in this sad saga that bears his family name) . . . a doctor who has not backed down . . . if he once again refuses to give her her due . . . that says a lot more about Ed Cone as an individual blogger/reporter (and the state of local journalism in general) than it ever could about Dr. Mary Johnson being justifiably wary of Greeks with gifts.

Maybe it's time Ed changed his mind and his approach. But if he doesn't that's okay. Someone is going to get to tell this story. Probably sooner than later.

Stay tuned for Part 2 . . . alas, it is not going to meet Ed's deadline. Hell, I'm not sure I need a Part 2 at this point.

6/24 Author's Note: The post has been tweaked this morning. As I said, it was a beast.

The Day After Father's Day: They Do Grow Up . . . And Go Off To War

This post preempts the ditty I had hoped to get up yesterday afternoon. But you see (contrary to what some local bloggers think), I have a life, and it interrupted. The planned post is more or less an answer to an "invitation" from Ed Cone (he's writing an article for the N&R on the state of local blogging and says he wants to chat). At this point, the post may not get up before his "deadline".

I'm not sure I care because I can't shake the feeling that I'm being set-up. Moreover, after over four years in the blogosphere (and being conked on the head by Ed's carrots before), I cannot think of a question I have not already answered in dozens of different ways, a gadzillion times.

More on that later.

Father's Day is getting a little easier as the years pass. I think the Red Ford Truck is helping with that. I do try to avoid Hallmark stores in June.

Over the last year or so (mostly because of the blog and what Cone calls my "online presence"), I've re-connected with several old high school pals.

One, in particular, is a huge fan of the blog and has become a great sounding board. Our politics and world-views are similar, and talking to him is like talking to one of my beloved Virginia cousins . . . we just "get" one another. We also share a similar life experience in that we left Asheboro and got our educations (the ones the small-town kings say they value so much) . . . then we came home with stars in our eyes (with a desire to settle down and make a really difference in the place where we were raised) . . . only to have our dreams shattered like broken cogs in a mill-town machine.

My friend and are different in one very compelling way. He comes from "old-school", upper-crust Asheboro. You could say he is Asheboro's version of a Cone.

In fact, his family name is on a building here. He swears he had nothing to do with it, and I believe him.

Anyway, this Father's Day was very, very hard for my friend. You see, he put his son on a bus for Marine boot camp yesterday. This is something this fine young man really, really wants. He's going in with his eyes wide open.

Now Fec (The Not-So-Terrible) is the only local blogger I know who admits to blogging drunk. Many people say it's not a good idea, and I stay away from the keyboard on the very few occasions I indulge in the fermented fruit of the vine (given what I put up stone-cold sober, it's a good bet that anything I put up whilst drunk would burn the eyeballs). But sometimes I wonder what deeper emotion/expression might fly out of the fingertips if I dared take the leap.

My friend sent me an e-mail yesterday. I opened it well after midnight last night.

He's a very eloquent fellow sober, but this time he was drunk. And on this occasion, of course, I could not hold it against him. The e-mail is just beautiful in its sentiment . . . and it demonstrates everything a Father should be. I'm going to share (the the names are eliminated). I hope he does not mind.

I put a comment out on the blog about the truck, forgive me, but I am a tad inebriated tonight, as we put our son on the bus to Charlotte today, which leads to another bus ride to Parris Island tomorrow. Anyhow, Ford trucks are good trucks, just give it some time, and the bugs will work out. As for me, I will be miserable for a few days, and then will get over whatever it is that is bothering me.

The Marine sergeants told me to think of it as summer camp, you know with hiking, sleeping in tents, swimming, target practice, and arts and crafts with the finger-painting they will do with the camouflage paint.

We really don't have to get nervous until mid-December, maybe late November. He will take his infantry training at Jacksonville, NC, so we can do some time down at Topsail Island and take the dogs, etc. to see him. Sort of a family reunion while he learns the finer points of warfare. Once the infantry school is done, then it's sort of wait and see.

This sucks Mary. I know you lament not having children, but maybe it was supposed to be that way. I have tried to take the easy way out and say that he's not my biological child, but damned if it doesn't hurt my heart to think of what he's getting in to. My name isn't on his birth certificate, but I still love him all the same.

I've known him since he was 18 months old . . . then I saw a 19 year old man get on the bus to Charlotte today.

I didn't cry, he had no idea how hard this was for me. He may never know, and I don't want him to. Nobody should watch their child go off to war.

Anyhow, I am drunk, and I need to go to bed. I'll be okay, sorry for the melodrama. Will talk soon. Good luck with the other stuff, and keep all of us posted. I attached a pic of *** and his sister from a trip to Topsail back in 2006.

The irony of it is that 400 or so yards across the New River from where this was taken, is where he will take the infantry training once he leaves Parris Island.

Now, if you can read this and not be in tears, I don't know what it would take to make you cry.

I cried for my friend . . . this wonderful Father . . . last night. And his brave young son too. Where in the world do we find such men?

The photo he attached captured a wonderful moment in time. Those are moments to hold onto.

I hope my friend does not have too much of a headache today. I hope his boy learns what he needs to learn . . . and that he stays safe.

Semper Fi.

PM Update: Wait! There's more. Before the young man left for his date with destiny, he handed his Father a card. This was inside the card:

"Thanks for all that you taught me, now it's time to put it to use".

I suppose the good thing about crying after you've had Lasik surgery is that you can see better after the cry.

On "A Break" For Jim Black: Just Say No

The N&O reports that former Speaker of the N.C. House, Jim Black (in Federal prison since 2007), wants a break. Big names are lining up to support him.

One word: NO.

From the comments ("Joe Bloggs"):

What kind of example does this irresponsible request by Martin, et al. set to the people of this state?

Jim black showed zero compassion to the people of this state as he blithely lined his pockets with money from special interests. Yet his supporters expect compassion to be shown to him. His wife's condition is sad, to be sure. But as a responsible adult, as an elected official he should have had the wherewithal to think, to use the brain God gave him, before he committed his crimes.

How can this man be shown compassion, while other like criminals without the name recognition, without the friends in high places languish? Jim Black used his influence to line his pockets, now he's trying to use it to weasel his way out of prison.

It's been eleven years since my life was turned upside down for doing the right thing by a patient. It was a fairly harsh "sentence" imposed by two gentlemen who richly deserve to be lanquishing in a cell beside Jim Black.

I'm still waiting for my "break" from a broken system.

The FTC Is Looking At Conflicted Bloggers: I Nominate . . .

It was a long day yesterday.

I've got two posts in the works - one should have been up yesterday. Not enough hours in the day. I still hope to meet Edward Cone's "deadline".

But this story from the Raleigh N&O caught my eye this morning - on the FTC cracking down on bloggers not disclosing conflicts of interests related to their opinions/posts.

Reminded me of this "journalist" who could not write obectively/critically about Mike Easley while he was in office . . . because her husband got a job from the governor . . . and the first lady knitted her baby a hat (this is her own admission . . . after the fact of a Federal investigation of the governor's pay-to-play style of governing).

In the GSO blogosphere, I would suggest that the FTC take a strong look at the News & Record's citizen journalism experiment . . . where one well-named blogger/columnist and his opinions always seem to take front and center . . . as opposed to some of the rest of us who have been de-linked and banned because we have a story the newspaper does not want to tell (because it might step on the toes & egos of some very big advertisers).

Me? I don't run ads. And I state my biases up front. Randolph Hospital senior executives, Bob Morrison and Steven Eblin, are liars and cheats who should have been fired six years ago for their lying and cheating.

Like Jim Black (the subject of my next post), they should be in jail.

An Equal-Opportunity Jabber

Hat tip to Bubba and Joe:

JibJab, an equal-opportunity jabber, strikes again.

Still laughing.

FORD = Fix And/Or Repair Daily

I've been home this week and have been driving the Red Ford Truck everywhere - probably more than it's been driven during a large portion of its previously privileged life as a pampered dealer's pet.

The truck drives like a dream at cruising speed, but lately has been stalling out as I turn curves or idle - usually restarting without any fuss. I took it to the Ford/Lincoln/Mercury dealership in Greensboro this week. They did a considerable amount of work (including dropping the gas tanks to replace faulty fuel sensors), and pronounced it "cured".

Alas, I had been back in Asheboro for all of five minutes - and was on my way to my Mom's house, when the truck stalled out in front of the Randolph County Courthouse on Worth Street (after I turned off from Fayetteville Street). This time it would not re-start. A police officer who stopped (this was in addition to several citizens who also paused to offer assistance) said part of the problem was my battery (which I had been told had just been re-charged).

My uncle was in town (he drives an 11th-generation red Ford Thunderbird) and showed up to give me a jump. It was not an easy jump. There were several false starts.

Many jokes about Fords were made during this process. For instance, my uncle's pristine Thunderbird is "the good Ford". My truck is "the bad Ford". "Found On the Road Dead" was uttered at least once. The men seemed to be really enjoying themselves.

Once restarted, I drove the truck (with my uncle following me) to a local repair shop my Dad used to frequent with his own Red Ford truck.

Once there, I introduced myself - telling the receptionist that Pops used to bring his vehicles there. She asked me for his name, and when I said, "Tom Johnson", that's when the best part of the day began.

I was delighted and privileged to hear a multitude of funny stories (told by people who were smiling and laughing) about my crazy Father and his antics. It seems he practically "lived" at the shop after he retired . . . showing up on Tuesdays and Thursdays to just hang out and pester the mechanics . . . or showing up to "borrow" equipment that might assist him in the chasing of trains.

They got in a couple of good zingers on Mama too. For instance, they knew her Indian name is "tree-killer".

The mechanic I spoke with was an affable and clearly knowledgable fellow who had some good ideas as to what the problem might be (he is actually the mechanic who pronounced my 1991 Camry nearly-dead). I left the truck to the care of these experts to try and figure out the problem.

I'm actually not mad with the guys in Greensboro. They fixed most of what I wanted fixed. In fact, I'm almost glad the truck stalled out again.

Almost;)

Truth With Cherries Redux

In the wake of the Greensboro City Council's "statement of regret" over the 1979 Klan-Nazi-CWP shootings, everybody has an opinion.

I expressed mine back in 2006. It has not changed.

Comments are closed.

Socialized Auto And Car Repair

Two people have sent me this link today.

It is a timely work of pure genius.

My Left Boob

Yesterday, about ten minutes before I was scheduled to meet with the President of the N.C. Medical Board and its lead attorney, I got a phone call.

I had a mammogram on Monday - a "routine" screen scheduled as a follow-up to a bit of a scare six months ago. As background, I've had on-and-off left-sided breast pain for years . . . part and parcel of living with fibrocystic breast disease. I've been getting yearly mammograms since my late thirties. I've not borne children and there is a family history of breast cancer (translation: I'm "high-risk"). Lately, my left boob has been exquisitely tender and very sore.

There was an anomaly on one of the scans, and I needed to come in for more pictures (and since they know I travel for a living, they wanted to get me in this week).

It's happened before. It's always a sick-in-the-pit-of-the-stomach, very scary feeling.

In the interest of full disclosure, I advised the gentlemen I met with that I'd gotten this phone call right before walking in the room. I wanted them to know I was scared.

But NOT of them.

I did tell them that perhaps the most frightening thing about the possibility of breast cancer was that I might not be able to work. And, after eleven years of what the Board's lead attorney called a "perfect storm" of everything that could go wrong in medical-legal oversight going wrong, I have no financial reserves. It is only in the last year than I have been able to get on more of a fiscal even keel.

I have no reserves because after I was abandoned by all of the regulatory agencies I trusted to have my back when I answered that phone call in the middle of the night in January 1998, and was forced to turn to the North Carolina legal system for vindication and restitution, I was swindled by liars and cheats.

The thing about that is that a whole lot of state & federal money was spent to bring me home . . . and these particular liars and cheats are employed by a "non-profit" hospital - ergo they should not be able to get away with lying and cheating. Indeed, this whole ugly mess would seem, to the average bloke, to a matter for the North Carolina Attorney General's office (and/or the U.S. Attorney).

But so far, the Attorneys Generals on whose watch this happened (that would be Mike Easley, followed by Roy Cooper) have taken a dive.

Randolph Hospital executives knowingly and repeatedly lied under Oath (about the "confidentiality" of financial information on the public record) because, contrary to Steve Eblin's learned opinion, good Pediatricians are worth a whole lot more than "a dime-a-dozen" . . . and when you maliciously take the hammer to their practices and careers, paying the piper can be an expensive proposition.

Unless, of course, you lie.

I digress. The meeting, I think, went well. I went alone. The message was delivered. And because I think the meeting went well, I'm not going to blog about the details. But I will say that I think, for the first time in eleven years, someone was really listening, and I have some small hope that something might finally be done (1) to address my situation specifically and (2) address the more global problem of a Medical Board and a state government/legislature that does not protect or defend the duties they require of licensed physicians.

And if they don't do something (very soon), well, I hear there's a lot of out-of-work, hungry lawyers out there. I'm at the point where I'm beyond ready to dance.

After the meeting, I drove straight from Raleigh to Greensboro (like a banshee-let-out-of-hell) to get the repeat pictures of my left boob.

When I got there, I was surprised to hear that the problem was actually with my right boob (even more scary because most of the time breast cancer is not associated with pain). The pictures were taken. And once again, it was a false alarm. Afterwards, I went to Four Seasons to try and walk it all off, but I did not stay long.

They've closed the Disney Store, you see. I think I knew that. But I had forgotten.

I got home last night emotionally drained and physically exhausted. I fell into bed without locking the door or setting the alarm.

But at least I slept well.

Night-Night, Nightjack

This is the reason I sign my name. I don't think we're far from this kind of thing happening in the United States.

It's what keeps me honest. Anonymity is a myth . . . false security . . . and oftentimes the cloak of a coward.

Moreover, if you really want to change the world, you're not going to do it hiding behind a fake name.

No Excuses

I've had the weekend off-call and haven't felt at all like blogging.

Well, except for contributing to the comments on this story at the N&O. Young lawyers are finding it "stressful" to be laid off.

This very jaded, not-so-young-anymore doctor who struggled to make ends meet FOR YEARS . . . in large part because bad corporate lawyers screwed her over and government lawyers didn't care . . . says, "Boo-hoo!".

I debated for several days whether or not to put up a series of e-mails between me and the N.C. Medical Board . . . about the arrangement of a meeting I requested several weeks ago.

Let's just say that the President of the Medical Board didn't score any points over the weekend. Climb down out of the ivory tower, bud.

The meeting is today in Raleigh. In the wake of President Obama's right-on-the-Socialist-talking-points performance yesterday for the AMA (I'm not a dues-paying member) . . . which was certainly blog-worthy . . . just not blog-worthy today . . . I expect my message will be short and sweet.

There's a lot to "reform". Change is here. Change is now. We can dance now or we can dance later.

But there is going to be a dance.

I'm not going away and I'm REALLY, REALLY DONE with the excuses.

As for the e-mails, we'll hold off on that for now. I guess that all depends on how the meeting goes.

"They Need To Be Told, You Need To Tell Them, And It's Time"

My horoscope for today, courtesy of Astronet:

You don't relish the thought of it happening, but every now and then, your verbally rebellious streak gets a bit out of control and becomes a bit tough for you to handle -- much less to explain to the rest of the world.

For now, though, since you're perfectly entitled to let someone have it who's had it coming for some time, why not indulge yourself?

They need to be told, you need to tell them, and it's time.

I laughed out loud. For you see, at the risk of being called "rebellious" (in medicine, they call it "disruptive"), I've taken the advice.

And it's WAY, WAY, WAY past the time.

More later.

About That Possible Compromise On Obama's Healthcare Plan . . .

. . . his fiscally-irresponsible, morally-bankrupt, fundamentally SOCIALIST plan . . .

Local "non-profit" insurance "cooperatives" have been proposed.

My comment on the story left at the N&O (I'm just too tired and too world weary to say much else tonight):

Just what we need. More local "cliques" and "bubbas-in-the-boardroom" CDT in healthcare.

Tell me. Will there be as much "oversight" provided as there has been in the "non-profit" sector in North Carolina over the last 10-15 years?

I wish we could get past the stale, mis-leading talking points and to the truth.

CDT is Spanish for what comes out of the bull's rear end. You can't say bad words at the N&O.

What The Easleys Forgot (Subtitled What The Journalists Forgot)

The N&O's Ruth Sheehan has a positively sappy editorial up on Mike and Mary Easley. Oh woe is us! If only they had not forgotten who they were and where they came from.

Oh, you mean like John & Elizabeth Edwards?

Here's an excerpt:

When my oldest son was born, Mary knit him a hat shaped like a strawberry.

In December 2001, Mike Easley appointed my husband to be chairman of the state Employment Security Commission. That's the reason I didn't write about Easley during most of his two terms.

How very progressive. I bet John Robinson would pat you on the back for your journalistic ethics.

I've learned to channel my rage through writing on this blog, so here's my response (posted as a comment on the editorial):

"I didn't write about Easley during most of his two terms . . . I'm not one of the longtime Easley bashers who thought he didn't do a darn thing but crash a few race cars during his years in the governor's mansion . . . For those of us who liked and admired the Easleys, the last few months of revelations have been hard to comprehend."

I would have liked to have admired the Easleys.

But from my view in the cheap seats of once idealistic/enthusiastic public service, I didn't get cute strawberry hats for the baby I will never have because I was too mired down in litigation that NEVER would have happened if ANYONE in the Hunt-Sleazely administrations had done their jobs.

Instead, I was fed to the lions . . . largely because people like you could not see beyond what you wanted to see . . . and could not write about them.

It's time for the lions to choke . . . and Rome to fall.

I "bash" the Easleys because they RICHLY DESERVE it . . . and then some.

They are entitled posers.

I ran out of character space, took a breath and posted again:

I'm still marvelling over this editorial.

Your husband got a job and your baby got a hat.

Maybe you should have turned those things down and started writing.

Maybe, just maybe, it's the journalists who forgot who they were and what they were about.

I paid dearly because I didn't.

I'm in this blogosphere because (back in 2005) a newspaper editor invited me. The N&R's John Robinson made all kinds of promises about stories getting told that hadn't otherwise been told.

Alas, that ruse was up pretty quickly.

The biggest problem I've had are so-called starry-eyed, "progressive" "journalists" like Ruth Sheehan.

In Asheboro, it's David Renfro, publisher of the Courier Tribune . . . husband of Bonnie (head guru at Randolph County Economic Development) and good buddy to Bob Morrison. Indeed, the ONE time the (weekly) Randolph Guide published anything about my story (this would be one of the times I swallowed all my pride and draped poster-board over my shoulders - in order to protest in front of Randolph Hospital), I've been informed that Renfro marched over to the Guide's offices and reamed out the publisher there.

Telling this story would not be good for "business" in Asheboro & Randolph County.

Of course, doing it the Renfro's way got Asheboro listed in Forbes magazine - and not in a good way.

And don't even get me started on John Robinson . . . or Edward Cone of the Cones (no ulterior motives for being a total jerk there).

Whatever.

It's Official

You could say my focus with this blog is "hyper-local". And the developments of the last few days vindicate my choice to do that. We need MORE people challenging what is going on in our own backyards . . . and in our state capital (where the Dems have ruled for years and years).

It seems to me that accountability needs to trickle UP, not down.

I try to stay mostly out of the fray when it comes to national politics . . . there are already too many voices yammering in that ECHO chamber.

But it's official. Obama is an idiot.

"It's okay to borrow to pay for healthcare". Dear God, please save us.

Lanier Cansler As Dorothy In Oz: "We're Not In Kansas Anymore"

It looks very ominous outside - dark and windy and green - like I'm just this side of Oz. I need to wrap this thing up before I have to corral the cats and lock myself in a storm cellar.

Wait, there are no storm cellars in Eastern North Carolina - as holes in the ground here generally collect water.

As regular readers know, after Randolph Hospital worked its unique brand of magic on my life and career, I hit the road. I've worked all over this state. I've seen a lot of things - many (believe it or not) that I have not blogged about. And I've got a number of friends who work for the N.C. Department of Health and Human Services . . . many of them in the arena of child protective services and/or child support.

As the administrators at NCSU fight over monster severance packages (on the pretense that they deserve it), here's a priceless memo the beleagured employees of NCDHHS got this week from their fearless leader, Secretary Lanier Cansler (I'm not a fan):

June 8, 2009

To: ALL EMPLOYEES OF THE NORTH CAROLINA
DEPARTMENT OF HEALTH AND HUMAN SERVICES

From: Lanier M. Cansler

Re: We Will Focus On Success

I have no doubt that each of you in the past 12 months has experienced financial changes in your lives. You have had to manage your households with less, you have paid more to pump gas into your cars and you have been forced to cut back on recreational pleasures and had fewer opportunities for the things you once enjoyed.

We have all endured financial changes in our lives as our nation, our state and our families struggle to find ways of doing the same things with a lot less. This challenging trend is not expected to change anytime soon. Some economists predict things will never be the same again.

Remember that line from the 1939 movie The Wizard of Oz when Dorothy said, “Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore”? We might have a similar feeling as we begin to consider and deal with the changes that will occur in DHHS programs and services as a result of impending budget reductions.

The budget that was proposed by the House Appropriations Subcommittee on Health and Human Services last week reflects reductions that are historic in nature and unprecedented in amount. The reductions will impact every division and office of our Department, every provider that partners with us in the delivery of care and services, and in some way every individual we serve in North Carolina. This is not a short-term problem. Financial forecasts indicate that it will be 2013 before the State’s revenues return to 2008 levels.

In legislative meetings last week I had attempted to put the reductions in some perspective to emphasize the depth of the cuts to the DHHS budget by citing two examples: (1) If we eliminated every employee position in the Department, almost 19,000 filled and vacant positions, including all positions in our state facilities, we would achieve only about half the level of budget reductions faced by DHHS, or (2) If we eliminated all divisions related to the Human Services side of our agency (Social Services, Aging and Adult Services, Child Development, Services for the Blind, Deaf and Hard of Hearing, Vocational Rehabilitation, etc.), we would achieve only about half the budget reductions faced by DHHS.

While a large majority of our budget relates to health care and health-related activities, and the health divisions and services are taking the largest financial hits, every one of our offices and divisions is going to have to examine operations and chart new courses to meet the needs of North Carolina’s citizens. Hopefully, the Legislature will consider some new revenue options to help reduce the impact on DHHS programs and services such as the Governor’s proposed revenue increases on tobacco and alcohol, but even then we will not escape unprecedented budget reductions.

I am confident that our DHHS team is up to this challenge. As an organization we have the determination, dedication, and capabilities to take the resources available to us, focus on what’s most important for the people we serve, and utilize those resources in the most effective way possible. But we are not in Kansas anymore, and we can’t continue to think and operate as we have in the past. We must reevaluate our priorities and processes. I am calling upon the entire DHHS team to be innovative, explore ways and offer suggestions for improving the way we do things, provide services, and fulfill our responsibilities. If you have ideas for how we can do things better, tell your supervisor or send your ideas directly to me.

Thank you for your continued dedication and commitment to the people of North Carolina. Working together, we can meet this challenge and emerge from these difficult financial times a stronger and better focused Department for serving our State’s citizens. I look forward to working with you as we strive to meet the needs and expectations of those we serve.

Reading this, I really did not have a lot of trouble picturing a frightened little man in green dodging interviews and pulling strings behind a big front obscured by smoke and mirrors.

A friend whose head will likely be on the block expounded on the situation:

The NC Dept of Health and Human Services (DHHS) . . . is set to be offered up to the budget gods as a sacrifice.

Of the $4.6BB in cuts, we will supply $2.4BB of that. So, an agency that is 25% of the state budget will bear the brunt of 50% of the cuts.

Anyhow, I may be out of work. Why? It seems that the state legislature wants to shut down all 16 state run child support offices that serve 28 counties, and force the local counties to take them over and fund them. Not pretty, or in some cases economically possible.

If this happens, most likely we would be absorbed into the local DSS, that's how a lot of counties run child support. Some run it as a stand alone agency (Guilford), some contract it out to private companies (Buncombe, New Hanover).

Randolph? Well it isn't in the best financial shape. How would they handle it? I dunno. The idea was a few years ago to begin to let the state run all the offices and do it on a regional basis similar to Virginia.

I guess local politics kept that at bay, and now it will go the opposite way.

I have strong doubts as to how that would work in Randolph County . . . (there's) far too much small time political intrigue . . .

Small time political intrigue. Yeah. I know ALL about that.

I thought I came home to "Mayberry". I got Oz.

OBTW, in the end, who pays the most when the adults screw up and have to re-evaluate the priorities (booze, drugs, sex, etc.)? Why the kids of course. It's been 15 years since I entered the work force as a General Pediatrician, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to help save the world from itself.

It's like Don Quixote and his windmills. Things are so much worse than they ever were before.

This storm could wipe us out. And there aren't any escape balloons.

Update: I've emerged from the closet (actually I let the cats out of the closet - I stood in the wide-open front door of the apartment and took it all in). Now THAT was a storm! Awesome! Way cool!

The Unfortunate Civic Naivete, Apathy & Ignorance Of The Ordinary North Carolinian

In the wake of the NCSU/Mary Easley fiasco, outraged comments keep rolling in at the N&O. And I am still contributing to the threads there. But after all of yesterday's excitement, I feel a strange let-down . . . a feeling of exhaustion . . . almost a disinterest in the whole ugly mess (of course, that's what some of these crooks-in-suits are counting on - that the public will get tired and move on).

Move on. Now where have I heard that before?

One comment caught my eye:

"In private industry, if any employee is conducting any sort of business or behavior that even merely APPEARS to be a conflict of interest (much less stealing, lying) , they are told to desist or leave, and if you get caught doing something dishonest, you're usually terminated, point blank."

Appalled at the naivete behind the comment (mostly because at one time I was pretty much that naive) I responded:

This is NOT true in the "private non-profit" sector.

I reference my experience as related on DrJsHousecalls.

As for the SBI doing anything independently of a DA or AG, that does not happen in this state. DA's have all the power & there is no way to bring the SBI or AG in without a law enforcement request - which generally does not happen without a DA's approval.

If a DA/AG is not inclined to prosecute (for whatever reason) there is no investigation. I have this straight from the SBI's lips!?!

Seems backwards to me (i.e. you investigate, then you decide).

Again, I reference my own situation in Asheboro - where my case for perjury, contempt & fraud against two non-profit" hospital executives has been buried since 2003.

Earlier, I had reminded readers that "We The People" do it do ourselves:

I was in AGONY last fall, as I realized that ALL of the same sleazy players (or their designated successors) would be put right back into office by a largely apathetic/ignorant public.

"WE" put "THEM" in office.

Many "WE's" stood back while folks like me fought a beyond-corrupt system largely un-aided & alone.

Now that more of the "We's" are getting stiffed, laid off, fired & generally scr*wed - the result of YEARS of near-criminal & criminal management of the public coffers, I'm trying to work up the outrage, but I'm just so tired of it.

And why are we (well, not all of us, but I digress) ignorant?

Because our newspapers have sucked up & swallowed the BlueBlueBlue Koolaid FOR YEARS. And the "progressive blues" in the blogosphere are even worse.

This kind of bubbasinthebackroom CDT goes all the way back to the days of Jim Hunt. Ask ANY older/retired teacher about that "education" Governor & see what they tell you.

My new Internet true-love, "Agent Pierce", is spot-on:

97% of the outraged citizens in this forum would not recognize Marc Basnight, Tony Rand or Joe Hackney if they were standing in front of them in the Food Lion check-out line .... and wearing a "I AM A JONES STEET SCALLYWAG" t-shirt.

Mike Easley NEVER issued a single public statement about the Jim Black scandal.

Dumpling and the BackRoomBubbas are trying to skate thru this one like Hurricanes on a power play.

I repeat .... EVERY SINGLE ONE of the resigned and targeted conspirators and apologists in this mess is a REGISTERED DEMOCRAT. EVERY ONE.

I've not held back when it comes to my more local representation either:

I live in a Republican county. I was raised by someone who sat just to the right of Jesse Helms. But Harold Brubaker, former Speaker of the House, could not been more of a deeply-entrenched/suck-up-to-the-PTB JERK in terms of offering assistance when I took on the lying, cheating, way-overpaid/over-rated executives of our "non-profit" hospital.

So it's NOT just about party. He (Brubaker) was USELESS.

The DA in Randolph County is a Republican. He has stone-walled ANY investigation of the charges I lodged in 2003.

The sad thing is that most power is derived from ignorance and apathy. We do it to ourselves.

Welcome to North Carolina.

And hold on tight America. If you thought Bush was bad, it's only really getting started in Washington.