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Blogging to you from the Northeastern Badlands of The County of Lake, in the state currently known as Fatmanistan, DEEP DEEP DEEP DEEP DEEP inside the heartland of the Banana Republic formerly known as the USA, WELCOME TO THE NEXT CHAPTER! WARNING! ALL FORMS OF SOCIAL MEDIA ARE ADDICTIVE; EXCESSIVE USE MAY LEAD TO MENTAL HEALTH DISORDERS, REDUCED JOB PRODUCTIVITY, INSOMNIA, SOCIAL ALIENATION, GENITAL ULCERS, BLINDNESS, POLITICAL EROTICISM, AND / OR DEVIANT FUNAMBULISM. NOTICE: NO GUNS OR AMMUNITION ARE FOR SALE VIA THIS BLOG. (No, I will not trade my Colt Python for some lubricious adventures with your trophy wife and a future first-round draft pick.) CAVEAT: This blog is not suitable for viewing while at work, while inside a public library, while inside any public or private school, or while inside any public or private restroom. Do not view this blog while driving a motor vehicle or while piloting an aircraft. Viewing this blog may be illegal inside the EU, NYC, Chicago, Seattle, and other parts of the Third World. THIS BLOG CONTAINS (albeit often very childish) ADULT-CONTENT. DISCLAIMER: This blog is a hobby, it is not a livelihood. Even though much of what I blog about relates to firearms collecting and recreational shooting, I am not an expert (by any measure) on any facet of guns, shooting, hunting, or personal defense. Entries at this blog are akin to good old-fashioned campfire chats or post hunt bourbon-fueled barroom-bluster; I offer no opinion on what you should or should not purchase, or what you should be using or doing. What does or does not work for me could be rugged-country-miles away from your tastes and your needs. All products, places, and miscellany that I review for this blog are purchased / rented / leased at retail price by me. I do not accept payment, gifts, discounts, freebies, products on loan, distilled spirits, recreational pharmaceuticals, plea-bargains, probation, parole, Papal Blessings, Presidential Pardons, or sexual favors for doing any review or blog post. TRACKING COOKIES: Google et al stick tracking cookies on everybody. If you are online, you are being spied on via one method or another, for one reason or another; 'nuff said. You may be able to minimize your online DNA residue by using Tor and Duck Duck Go. Vive la liberté! Vive all y'all! Ante omnia armari. To each of you, thanks for stopping by!

Thursday, September 2, 2010

The only hospital I ever stayed in overnight was the one where I was born, Augustana Hospital, Chicago, IL.

.

That is a cool old postcard. I found it over at Chuckman’s Collection. Nothing lasts forever; that hospital is long gone, demolished for urban renewal. Townhomes now occupy the site.

My aging carcass cannot keep up its run of good luck forever. Sooner or later, some hospital will strap me down for an extended stay and subject me to both the miracles and the barbarities of modern medicine. There were a couple of emergency room visits during the past few years when they wanted to keep me overnight for observation; against doctor’s advice, I declined. I am as hardheaded as Mom and Dad were when it comes to doctors. Maybe that is not a good thing; my folks might still be around if they had followed the doctors’ orders. Then again, maybe nothing would have changed.

Many people in my world have passed recently; among them were family, friends, and former coworkers. Life is precious. Nobody gets off this big spinning rock alive; all we can do is live and love while we can.
By at

4 comments:

  1. Arthur B. BurnettSeptember 2, 2010 at 11:56 PM

    Greetings from Texas,
    I am envious. I have had several hospital visits over the years. Luckly they all ended well.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Z@XSeptember 3, 2010 at 12:31 AM

    Hey there Art! Good to see you out and about.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Al from ChgoSeptember 12, 2010 at 8:18 AM

    Two stays in the old Augustana, May 43 born, Feb 45 whopping cough. In the old building many times before they tore it down, CPD.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Z@XSeptember 12, 2010 at 6:13 PM

    It's a shame that it is gone, but I guess time marches on.

    Al, thanks for stopping in.

    ReplyDelete

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