Saturday, July 31, 2010
Jeff Dodge is in Neuro-Intensive Care
Our nephew, Jeff Dodge, is in the hospital in the neuro-intensive care unit with three skull fractures. He was struck by a pick up truck while walking at about 2AM on July 27th. He is in a medically induced coma and his temperature is being kept low in order to keep brain swelling down. Lowering his body temperature brings with it the risk of infection since the body uses fever to kill off bugs. The infection expert - there is a specialist for everything - is trying to identify a lung bug they discovered in order to target it with the correct drug. In the meantime he is on a broad spectrum antibiotic. His brain pressure is being monitored closely and drugs administered in a complicated dance to preserve precious brain tissue. The first 72 hours are critical after this kind of injury.
Jeff, who's twenty-three years old, is maybe the nicest of our nephews. (sorry everyone else, you are all pretty nice, too) When he started to work at Menard's he was a salesman and he said to me, "Aunt Chari, I am a bad salesman. I tell them 'Don't buy that, it is kind of junky'" He shrugged and we laughed. Menard's didn't hold that against him, it seems, since they promoted him to management.
Jeff's dad, Jim, worked as a nurse in the very unit Jeff is being treated and his step-mom Denise is currently a nurse there, so they know all the scary details of an injury like this. It must be like their worst nightmare come to life.
Jeff's mom, Ruth and step-dad Pat, are living a nightmare, too. NOT knowing all the details is hard, too, and it doesn't help when doctors disagree and when no one can tell you what is likely to happen.
The hospital sets aside a 'crisis room' for families of patients and ours has been filled with people every time we go. Jeff's siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles, extended family, old friends of the family, and of course, Jeff's friends come and go. The hours pass slowly. Down the hall, Jeff is tethered to an array of machines that would seem right at home in a science fiction movie. He looks as if he is just asleep and Bob, Sarah and I all felt he is in there, waiting to wake up.
Could there be anything worse to add to this? Yes. Jeff was intentionally run down by a drunk who'd been at the pub where Jeff and two friends were playing pool. It was near closing time when the drunk, twenty-three year old Texan Brandon Goodwin, and a friend came in. The barmaid refused to serve him and Jeff's friends eventually joined her in telling the guy to leave. Jeff himself never said anything but stood with them. As the guy left he said he would kill the bartender and Jeff and friends.
Jeff and his friends decided to walk home. Jeff had only one beer - this fact has been documented with a blood alcohol test at the hospital - but home for them was close so they didn't drive. The drunk appeared in a borrowed pick up truck and made two passes at them, which they avoided. One of them called 911 but before the police responded the drunk returned, jumped a curb, went over a group of bushes and a broad grassy area and plowed into Jeff. One of his friends was hit in the leg and has very minor injuries, the other escaped unharmed. Jeff flew up and when he came down the others saw his head bounce off the pavement. He rolled over, tried to get up a couple of times, then was quiet.
The drunk zoomed off but was quickly arrested at an after hours joint. He is being held on $500,000.00 bond. The charges, so far, are attempted murder and driving a vehicle while intoxicated, causing injury. We think, and this may happen, he should be charged with three counts of attempted murder.
We are mired in impotent emotions. Sorrow at Jeff's injuries and all the unknowns they bring, sympathy for those closest to him, fear and worry for what the future may bring and then, a nice topping of rage directed at someone we have never met.
Jeff, who's twenty-three years old, is maybe the nicest of our nephews. (sorry everyone else, you are all pretty nice, too) When he started to work at Menard's he was a salesman and he said to me, "Aunt Chari, I am a bad salesman. I tell them 'Don't buy that, it is kind of junky'" He shrugged and we laughed. Menard's didn't hold that against him, it seems, since they promoted him to management.
Jeff's dad, Jim, worked as a nurse in the very unit Jeff is being treated and his step-mom Denise is currently a nurse there, so they know all the scary details of an injury like this. It must be like their worst nightmare come to life.
Jeff's mom, Ruth and step-dad Pat, are living a nightmare, too. NOT knowing all the details is hard, too, and it doesn't help when doctors disagree and when no one can tell you what is likely to happen.
The hospital sets aside a 'crisis room' for families of patients and ours has been filled with people every time we go. Jeff's siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles, extended family, old friends of the family, and of course, Jeff's friends come and go. The hours pass slowly. Down the hall, Jeff is tethered to an array of machines that would seem right at home in a science fiction movie. He looks as if he is just asleep and Bob, Sarah and I all felt he is in there, waiting to wake up.
Could there be anything worse to add to this? Yes. Jeff was intentionally run down by a drunk who'd been at the pub where Jeff and two friends were playing pool. It was near closing time when the drunk, twenty-three year old Texan Brandon Goodwin, and a friend came in. The barmaid refused to serve him and Jeff's friends eventually joined her in telling the guy to leave. Jeff himself never said anything but stood with them. As the guy left he said he would kill the bartender and Jeff and friends.
Jeff and his friends decided to walk home. Jeff had only one beer - this fact has been documented with a blood alcohol test at the hospital - but home for them was close so they didn't drive. The drunk appeared in a borrowed pick up truck and made two passes at them, which they avoided. One of them called 911 but before the police responded the drunk returned, jumped a curb, went over a group of bushes and a broad grassy area and plowed into Jeff. One of his friends was hit in the leg and has very minor injuries, the other escaped unharmed. Jeff flew up and when he came down the others saw his head bounce off the pavement. He rolled over, tried to get up a couple of times, then was quiet.
The drunk zoomed off but was quickly arrested at an after hours joint. He is being held on $500,000.00 bond. The charges, so far, are attempted murder and driving a vehicle while intoxicated, causing injury. We think, and this may happen, he should be charged with three counts of attempted murder.
We are mired in impotent emotions. Sorrow at Jeff's injuries and all the unknowns they bring, sympathy for those closest to him, fear and worry for what the future may bring and then, a nice topping of rage directed at someone we have never met.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Adjectives Gone Wild
A local credit union just changed its name. It used to be known as Communications Family Credit Union now it is Wildfire Credit Union. WILDFIRE? Is that a name that inspires confidence? Do I want to put my money where they are advertising wildfires? Who though that name was good idea?
I do know a little about that credit union because many of my fellow postal employees were members. The credit union was known for being very liberal with the loan money in sharp contrast to the Saginaw Federal Postal Credit Union that was stingier. Maybe wildfires were a problem even then so they needed to get the money out of the building to save it...
What about Chrysler's Crossfire? If your engine is cross firing that is when the cylinders are firing in the wrong order, isn't it? And anyone who's ever seen a cop show knows it's dangerous to get caught in the crossfire. The word is also used to describe a verbal battle. Why would we want to buy and then drive something associated with all that trouble?
One day while we were in Heritage Natural Foods I was expounding on this subject and store owner Paul mentioned he's puzzled by the use of the word 'extreme' in business names. Names like 'Extreme Painting" and 'Extreme Rug Cleaner.' Just how much paint would it take to be extreme? I wonder if they leave any nap on a rug that's been through the extreme cleaning process.
I used to rent lock boxes to business customers at the post office and over the years I noticed that if the word 'reliable' was in the name of a business they were anything but. Their checks bounced, they never picked up their mail or they neglected to pay the rent for the box, then complained loudly when it was closed. I should have been given a bonus for refraining from hooting when I helped those 'reliable' folk open a box. I will admit I was unable to suppress a smirk but I never vocalized.
Language is changing all the time and I guess I have to accept new usages but I don't have to like it.
I do know a little about that credit union because many of my fellow postal employees were members. The credit union was known for being very liberal with the loan money in sharp contrast to the Saginaw Federal Postal Credit Union that was stingier. Maybe wildfires were a problem even then so they needed to get the money out of the building to save it...
What about Chrysler's Crossfire? If your engine is cross firing that is when the cylinders are firing in the wrong order, isn't it? And anyone who's ever seen a cop show knows it's dangerous to get caught in the crossfire. The word is also used to describe a verbal battle. Why would we want to buy and then drive something associated with all that trouble?
One day while we were in Heritage Natural Foods I was expounding on this subject and store owner Paul mentioned he's puzzled by the use of the word 'extreme' in business names. Names like 'Extreme Painting" and 'Extreme Rug Cleaner.' Just how much paint would it take to be extreme? I wonder if they leave any nap on a rug that's been through the extreme cleaning process.
I used to rent lock boxes to business customers at the post office and over the years I noticed that if the word 'reliable' was in the name of a business they were anything but. Their checks bounced, they never picked up their mail or they neglected to pay the rent for the box, then complained loudly when it was closed. I should have been given a bonus for refraining from hooting when I helped those 'reliable' folk open a box. I will admit I was unable to suppress a smirk but I never vocalized.
Language is changing all the time and I guess I have to accept new usages but I don't have to like it.
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