Pat Bean's blog

            “I am sure that if the mothers of various nations could meet, there would be no more wars.” E.M. Forster

When these elephants got out of the water, the mother faced off with us. Our Tanzania guide had parked our land rover too close, the mother had decided, and was warning us not to harm her babies. — Photo by Pat Bean

Understaffed Weekend Emergency Room 

            A child in pain is something mothers all over the world dread, regardless the age of their child. But life is not fair, and facing such a situation happens to most mothers at one time or another.

            As a reporter covering the medical beat, I’ve watched, without blinking, an open-heart surgery and a brain surgery. Yet, watching a doctor put stitches in one of my sons after an accident had me passing out. I would have fallen on the floor if the doctor hadn’t noticed and told the nurse to catch me.

            This past Saturday, I found myself standing by my youngest daughter, who was in the most pain I’ve even seen a human suffer. And the emergency room’s understaffed personnel were dinking around – until finally I turned into a screaming demon.

            It was the right time and I have no regrets.

            It had been well over three hours, and they still hadn’t given my daughter something to ease the pain, or read her charts (or even listened to her husband) to know that she had been suffering for over three weeks and couldn’t even hold a sip of water down.         

            After my tantrum, they finally gave her something to ease the pain and admitted her to the hospital where she got the attention she deserved.

            While her neurologist is still trying to put all the pieces together to find out the cause of her problem, she is being kept as comfortable as possible.

             A blood test showed that one result of her not being able to eat was that her body was starving itself to death – which makes me wish I had screamed even louder at the emergency room doctor, who initially saw her for a couple of minutes, suggested prescribing some pain pills and sending her home – and then disappeared and didn’t’ appear again until I turned into a demon. 

            Having been to an emergency room a time or two myself, and personally knowing what these doctors charge for seeing a patient for two minutes (a charge which is separate from whatever the hospital charges) infuriates me even more.

            While we’ve made tremendous medical advances in the ability to treat patients, doctors seem to have taken backward steps. Even my own personal doctor of 30 years disappointed me a couple of years ago when I went to him with neck and shoulder pain. He said it was just old age creeping up on me, and I would have to live with it.

            My oldest daughter suggested I visit her doctor for a second opinion. I did and he prescribed physical therapy, which eliminated 90 percent of the problem within two weeks, and which is now 100 percent better.

            So I’m not lumping all doctors in the same box. Some have kept up with the times and some do truly care. It’s just that I’ve come into contact with too many lately who seem to care more about money then people.  

            I ask myself the question, why was there only one doctor on call in a big city emergency room? Was it because the hospital was cheap or because the doctor wanted all the patients – and money – for himself?

            Whichever, I’m perfecting my Demon Mother act in case an encore performance is needed.  

            Bean’s Pat:  Let’s Dance http://tinyurl.com/m3bsp3k  I needed a bit of Mother Nature to get my blood pressure back down where it belongs. This helped.

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    “Just when you’re beginning to think pretty well of people, you run across someone who puts sugar on sliced tomatoes.” – Will Cuppy

I Was Determined to Identify the Culprits 

Plain gray and white juveniles. — Photo by Pat Bean

           I hung a nectar feeder for hummingbirds from the roof of my third-floor balcony. The hummingbirds came, but then so did a flock of birds that clearly weren’t hummers.

I’ve had orioles drink from my hummingbird feeders, but these clearly weren’t orioles. They were tiny things, which from inside my living room, through a glass door and a screen, appeared non-descript.

I suspected they were some species of warbler, but didn’t know which one.

Yesterday, I decided to find out. Going outside and watching through my binoculars, I saw several of the gray and white birds gather around the feeder, and then a slightly larger one landed. It was an adult with a yellow head and a rust-colored splotch on its shoulder that immediately let me know I was looking at a verdin.

But when a more colorful adult landed, I finally knew my nectar thief was a verdin. — Photo by Pat Bean

I had only seen one other, and that was during a guided bird tour just south of Tucson. According to the range map, their North American habitat only extends to the southern portions of Texas, New Mexico, Arizona and California.

Neither my guidebook, nor the Cornell Univesity bird website, mentioned anything about verdins, which are a member of the tit family, drinking from human nectar feeders. Wikipedia, however, mentioned that they sometimes go for the dried sugar crusted on a feeder.

Well I want to tell you, that my verdins are drinking the sugar water just like the hummingbirds. And they scrabble with both their own species and hummers for a choice spot on the feeder.

Have I discovered a new bird behavior?

The Wondering Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

Bean’s Pat: Birding in Peru http://tinyurl.com/q2hwe5g More birds for those of us who are crazy about these fantastic winged creatures.

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Saguaro in bloom near my apartment. — Photo by Pat Bean

  “An early morning walk is a blessing for the whole day.” – Henry David Thoreau 

 A Morning Walk with Pepper

            I agree with Thoreau. And since Pepper must be walked, I get one on arising every morning. What a blessing it is to have a dog and no fenced yard.

Purple magic — Photo by Pat Bean

This morning I took my camera along as Pepper dragged me around my apartment complex. It’s what she does, and what I allow her to do.

But we did slow down a few times so I could snap these wonders of nature that change day by day.

I have particularly enjoyed the saguaro’s blooms, which I’ve been seeing for the past couple of weeks all over Tucson.

Life is good.

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” – William Butler Yeats

The Wondering Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

Bean’s Pat: Breezes at Dawn http://tinyurl.com/pemk4ya I enjoyed this photographer’s morning walk as well – and stole Yeats’ quote from her blog.

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            “I still find each day too short for all the thoughts I want to think, all the walks I want to take, all the books I want to read, and all the friends I want to see.” – John Burroughs

This morning’s sunrise over the C atalina Mountains from my balcony. — Photo by Pat Bean

Two Takes on Sherlock Holmes

            For the first time in nine years, during which I lived and traveled full-time in a 22-foot  RV that I affectionately call Gypsy Lee, I once again have a library card.

The second in the Sherlock Holmes-Mary Russell series.

            I would have had it much soon if I hadn’t broken my ankle.

            After spending some time, unsuccessfully learning how to download audio books on my Kindle, I roamed the small branch library near my apartment and checked out two books. One was Tom Brokaw’s “The Time of our Lives,” which I mentioned in yesterday’s blog. The other was “Murder on the Celtic,” by Conrad Allen, a mystery author I had never read before.

            It was an enjoyable afternoon read, a who-dun-it set in the early 1900s. With a little bit of independent research, I discovered that the Celtic was an actual ocean liner operated by the White Star Line between New York and Liverpool. It was a good thing the story took place in 1910 because in 1917 the ship struck a mine off the Isle of Man and 17 people aboard were killed.

            Conrad did a good job with bringing the book’s characters to life, including that of Sherlock Holmes’ creator, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, who was one of the passengers. I perhaps too easily, however, solved the murder in my head way before the end of the book.

The first in the series a really great read.

            A second book I recently read that featured Sherlock Holmes, the character and not the author, was a lot more complex. It was “A Monstrous Regiment of Women” by Laurie King. It is the second of her Sherlock Holmes-Mary Russell books I’ve read — and I loved it. I read the first in the series a while back, “The Beekeepers Apprentice,” and just downloaded an audio version of the third a “Letter of Mary.”

            I find King’s Mary Russell books fascinating, and can’t wait to start listening to the latest, and am grateful that there are quite a few more in the series. I might also read another Conrad Allen mystery, too. Perhaps “Murder on the Lusitania,” which is the first in his George Porter Dillman shipboard detective series.

The Wondering Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

Bean’s Pat: Snowglow http://tinyurl.com/apnc8z7 I love this photo. Looking at it made me sit back in my chair, relax and take a deep breath. .

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Looking in one direction there were the Smoky Mountain foothills dressed in Mother Nature’s autumn best. — Photo by Pat Bean

 “Sit in reverie, and watch the changing color of the waves that break upon the idle seashore of the mind.” – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Adventures with Pepper: Days 46-48

It’s been a little over three weeks since I spent three days at Misty River Cabins and Campground Resort. In case you hadn’t figured it out, my blog has been trailing way behind me in my two-month meandering cross-country journey from Mountain Time to Eastern Time and back to Central Time.

Turn around and there’s the river, where treehouse cabins were available for retreats from the daily chaos. — Photo by Pat Bean

I mention it now because my days at Misty River felt like a time out, which is what I took from blogging the past couple of days here at my oldest daughter’s home on the outskirts of Dallas.            I felt rejuvenated after both. We all need breaks now and then. Thankfully, I’ve finally, after way too many years, stopped chastising myself for taking them.

I couldn’t have chosen a better spot than the Misty River one for my break. It was an awesome campground with both delightful scenery and bathhouse. I had only meant to spend two days, but stayed over that extra day because it simply didn’t seem right to leave so soon.

I had reached that point in my journey when I needed to simply try to put some meaning to my travels, a time to review my notes and discover my own thoughts about all the fantastic things I had been seeing, from dinosaur bones to magnificent sunsets.

I’m still pondering.

Book Report: I took a break from Travels with Maggie, too.

Bean’s Pat: Philosopher Mouse http://tinyurl.com/amsfkwe Cowboy advice after you skip the first few paragraphs of the blog. As a kid who grew up with these cowboys, I loved this blog.

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