Hit me with your best shot

Hit me with your best shot
Come on!
Hit me with your best shot
Fire away

~~ "Hit Me With Your Best Shot" by Pat Benatar

Be Best

No, I'm not kidding. I want your best shot. 

It seems that the Idiot-In-Chief and self-proclaimed genius epidemiologist (he's really good at that stuff, y'all) has decided that we're going to have a vaccine against the Coronavirus that causes COVID-19 by the end of 2020. Amazingly, some scientists are all on board and going along with that timetable, although the vast majority think that is way too optimistic. 

Count me among the latter. 

I never was part of vaccine development but I studied a bit about it and spent my entire career in healthcare. One thing I did do as part of my job was testing new methods against old methods. I.e., when a new test was developed and became available and we thought we might want to switch to it, we ran duplicate tests comparing it to our current test. We needed to make sure it compared well and that the results were shown to be accurate before we adopted the new method. 

Let me tell you...that was involved and tedious enough. With vaccine development, we're talking a whole other level of complexity. Formulating a vaccine itself isn't going to be extremely difficult; it's the subsequent testing that it must endure that takes time and large numbers of tests. The main goals are to find something that is both safe and effective. This does not happen overnight or with the snap of an artificially orange tiny finger. 

That's why I am so dubious of a safe vaccine by year's end. And you know what? If there is a vaccine, and they actually manage to manufacture it in the large doses needed, I will not be getting it immediately, and Ken most certainly will not. You all know how I am about vaccines. They save lives. That is not debatable, although many try. (They are wrong.) I know the truth of it. But I also know the consequences of a rushed vaccine that has not been entirely vetted. Some vaccines have carried the increased risk of Guillain-Barré syndrome (the swine flu vaccine in the '70s) and some, like the first incarnation of the Rotavirus vaccine, resulted in a rare but serious condition called intussusception, which is an intestinal complication that can result in blockage and the need for surgical intervention. (That vaccine was pulled from use and another one was developed.)

To summon an Internet meme, one does not simply walk into a safe vaccine. It requires development, in vitro testing, in vivo testing in animals, and then in vivo testing in humans. The level of antibody development needs to be determined as well as how long those antibodies last, which will determine if it will confer immunity for a matter of years or only of months. Follow-up testing needs to be done to see if any long-term issues arise. 

It might not be rocket science but it's pretty damn complex in a different way. 

Rushing a vaccine to market for mass consumption is a dangerous prospect. I trust nothing that comes from the mouths of political operatives. I trust the science. If the orange idiot starts talking up this vaccine and I don't hear scientists agreeing, I will run the other way from that vaccine. 

***

Time to make the vaccines

On a related note, I watched the testimony before Congress from Dr. Rick Bright, the whistleblower who said that his warnings about the urgency of this virus went unheeded. (Quote of the Year: "We're in deep shit.") I was dismayed to see many of the Republican congresscritters trying to shield the so-called "president" when it comes to his constant touting of hydroxychloroquine as a therapy, despite no valid scientific studies being done to test its effectiveness against this virus. Most of the studies so far have shown either no efficacy or actual harm, with a worse outcome in many cases. 

But one after another, they sat up there and grilled Dr. Bright about hydroxychloroquine and "why not try it?" I'll sum up Dr. Bright's answer and then I'll give my own to that question. He said, in essence, "Your anecdotal evidence doesn't count for shit." 

My answer is that you don't try treatments when you don't know the outcomes. While the treatment has been around for a long time as a malaria drug and for some other conditions, it has not been fully vetted as a treatment for this virus. There is a shit-ton that we don't know about this virus and about the damage it causes to various tissues and systems, and just shoving a drug at it willy-nilly is irresponsible and negligent at best and downright malpractice at worst. 

Some of these people in Congress keep trying to appease the toddler in the White House and say, "It works for malaria. Why not give it a try?"

The reason I gave on Facebook is basically this: there are many treatments that work for one thing and don't work for another. A simple example is that penicillin-class antibiotics can be quite effective against some Gram-positive organisms like Staph and Strep. (Not so much Staph anymore, but that's because it developed resistance, so much so that penicillin is no longer an effective antibiotic against Staph.) However, due to its mechanism against organisms (it involves differences in cell walls), penicillin and most other antibiotics in that class are completely ineffective against Gram-negative organisms like E coli or Pseudomonas. 

So, to give a treatment example: if you had a patient who presented with septicemia (a blood infection) caused by E coli and you gave your patient penicillin, you would be causing harm because that is an ineffective treatment. Your patient would die because that is a very serious infection, one of the most life-threatening you can get. "What do you have to lose?" Well, when you push ineffective treatments, your patient could lose their life. 

Here's another very simple example: a couple of ibuprofen works great on a headache, but it ain't gonna do shit for your yeast infection, honey. But if you take enough ibuprofen, you risk renal damage. But hey, what have you got to lose, right? 

That's why it is important to conduct the studies and determine whether or not the treatment can cure, mitigate or decrease the length of illness, or if it causes actual harm. We have not done those studies on the magnitude that is necessary and it is beyond irresponsible for people to be pushing any sort of treatment without the necessary vetting. 

I know this was way too science-y but everything I'm hearing from the non-scientists in this administration is grating on my last nerve. It is glaringly obvious that they have no clue what they're talking about. 

Although I have a suggestion. Perhaps some sort of bleach injection or ingestion could help. Come on, fellas.

What have you got to lose? 

Lost and Found

Emma ran out of the flat into the tangled weeds behind their building and made her way to the gravestone in the graveyard beyond. She needed some air. She put her hand on her big sister's stone and said, "I miss you, Eliza." 

She cried a little but wiped the tears off of her face with the hem of her dress. Her sister had died two weeks ago and Emma still didn't quite know what to do with herself. She felt lost. Eliza had brushed her hair and had made her clean her teeth. Now that Eliza was gone, her hair had gotten more than a little ratty and she rubbed her tongue across her teeth. Emma resolved to at least clean her teeth today, to let Eliza know that she hadn't forgotten her. 

She made her way back into the house, picking her way carefully through the brambles. When she entered the flat, she called out to her Mum and Dad but got no reply. She walked through the small dining space to their bedroom and stood in the doorway. "Mama?"

She got no response and walked over to the bed. She shook Mama's shoulder but she wouldn't wake up. She seemed cold so Emma got a blanket from the sideboard and put it over her Mum and Dad. She patted her Papa on the shoulder and said, "Sleep, Papa. It's okay. I know you're tired." She noticed a bad smell in the air so she opened the window a little. 

She went to the kitchen and found an old biscuit that her Mum had made and sat at the table as she nibbled it. Mama hadn't made a proper meal for a few days, but Emma was resourceful and managed to find things to eat. She wished for fresh milk but was content to have some water. 

After Eliza had died and they had buried her in the boneyard, her Mum and Dad had retreated to themselves. Emma knew that they loved her but they had gotten so quiet and they didn't laugh and play like they used to. Papa hadn't said much anyway once he got back from what Mama called the Great War, and he had left half of one of his legs over there. He also had a hard time talking to everyone, because he was always so out of breath. Mama explained to the girls that it was the mustard, but Emma never understood that, because she always liked mustard when they had it with dinner. 

As Emma nibbled at her biscuit, she heard a knock on the door. She went over to the door, taking her biscuit with her. She opened the door a crack and looked out to see who was there. When she saw that it was Mrs. Brambadge from next door, she opened the door wide. 

Mrs. Brambadge said, "Hello, Emma. How are you?" She was usually a very cheery sort but seemed quite serious now. 

Emma shrugged. "I'm well, thank you." She continued to nibble her biscuit. 

Mrs. Brambadge cleared her throat and said, "I was wondering if your Mum and Dad are about. I had hoped to talk to them."

Emma looked up at her and didn't say anything. 

The neighbor continued, "I really need to talk to them if they're here, you see. There have been some things happening that...well, I really think I should talk to them. Can I do that, love?"

Emma took her hand and led her inside. She drew her over to where Mama and Papa slept in their bed and pointed. "They're in there. But you probably should let them sleep. They've been very tired and they sleep all the time lately." 

Mrs. Brambadge looked at her and then looked up into the dimness of the bedroom. She put her hand on the doorjamb and took a step inside. Then another. Emma heard her say, "Lila? James? Are you awake?" The woman stepped further into the room and Emma heard her gasp. 

The nice neighbor rushed out of the bedroom, braced herself against the wall, then leaned over and vomited profusely, all over the floorboards that Mama had just scrubbed last week. 

She looked up at Emma, who watched her calmly. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Oh, my dear child. How long have your Mum and Dad been...sleeping?"

Emma thought about it. "Well, Mama made these biscuits a few days ago." She took another nibble and looked at it. "There's a green spot here, but it still tastes good." Mrs. Brambadge looked up at Emma from her crouch on the floor, a look in her eyes that Emma knew was one of both horror and sadness. Emma didn't know how she knew this but she supposed that she'd seen enough of both in her short time on earth. 

Mrs. Brambadge made her way to her feet, brushing away the flies that seemed to have descended upon Emma's house lately. She closed the bedroom door firmly behind her, pressing her hand to her mouth. She took a deep breath and then grabbed Emma's hand. She pulled her along behind her to the door, her ample bosom leading the way. 

Emma held back. "No, Mrs. Brambadge! I need to be here when Mama and Papa wake up! They'll be hungry."

The woman looked down at Emma, who realized that the neighbor was truly very distraught. "Oh, child," she said, her hand on Emma's head. "Come with me next door."

Emma resisted. "I told you! Mama and Papa will be hungry when they get up!"

Mrs. Brambadge peered at her. "Emma, your Mum and Dad aren't getting up. They are sleeping, yes...but they...they aren't going to be hungry if they wake up. And yes, I said 'if.'" 

Emma bowed her head and then looked up at Mrs. Brambadge. "They aren't going to wake up are they, Missus?" 

Mrs. Brambadge shook her head. "No, child. I don't believe they are." 

Emma slipped her hand into Mrs. Brambadge's. They walked outside and Emma looked up at her. "Are you my new Mum?" 

The older woman looked startled and looked down at Emma. "Why, yes, child. I suppose I am. I seem to have found you, haven't I?"

Emma nodded. "Yes, mum. Will you brush my hair?" She smiled up at the nice lady and they walked home. 

For immediate press release

The Devil went down to Georgia, he was lookin' for a soul to steal
He was in a bind 'cause he was way behind, he was willing to make a deal

~~ "The Devil Went Down to Georgia" by The Charlie Daniels Band

(SNN) Satan News Network has announced that the Dark Lord has not only canceled his plans to attend and participate in this year's Fiddle Throwdown in Marietta, Georgia, the sponsor of the shindig for ten years has canceled the entire festival. 

The spokesdemon for Satan said, "In all good conscience, Satan cannot allow people to gather in large numbers, despite the Governor's relaxation of stay-at-home orders. While he is not opposed to large numbers of people dying and the possibility of harvesting their souls, he feels that it would be counterproductive to let them die without doing his dark bidding on Earth for the maximum amount of time before they die. Therefore, Satan is canceling the Throwdown." 

Satan threw down his pen on his desk, raising a puff of smoke. He looked up at his advisors. "So you're telling me that we can't do the Throwdown this year?" Steam rose from his forehead.

Vice-Lord Penemue bowed his head and said, "Dark Lord, I think we have to cancel."

Satan pounded his fists on this desk. "Why?" he thundered. "I was all set for another match-up with that hillbilly Johnny. I've been practicing!" 

The Vice-Lord cringed. "Sir, we just feel that the risks don't exceed the benefits." He pulled back the black drape over the easel beside him to reveal a graphic. The Dark Lord seemed to respond best to graphics rather than detailed briefings. He pointed at the graphic with the bone of an alligator arm, ending in a claw. "If you look at this, you'll see that the immediate deaths will far outpace the long-term benefits of people who come over to our side and do your work for the years they are living. They would recruit many more if they lived longer." 

He revealed the next graphic. "As you'll see here, the souls we will benefit from with the Throwdown are considerably less than those that will join us and spread the Word." He pointed with the alligator claw. "Here are the addiction benefits we would reap if people don't die." He pointed again. "And here are the relationships destroyed by behavior at the Throwdown. We're talking divorce, affairs, you name it. All of these will be wiped out if people attend the Throwdown and die quickly, which the medical experts predict will happen if we allow it to go on as scheduled." 

Satan put his hand on his forehead, between his horns. "Beelzebub Almighty." He looked up at Penemue and sighed. "So what's the financial damage?"

Penemue said, "I'll let Advisor Mammon address that." 

Satan said, "Fine. So what's the damage, Stefano?"

His chief economic demon, Mammon, cleared his throat. "Well, as you know, our investments in the stock market have already taken a hit." 

Satan yelled, "Yes, I know!" A hot wind blew from his mouth and washed over Penemue and Mammon, singeing their eyebrows. "Tell me what we're losing on the festival!" 

Mammon said, "Seventy billion." 

Satan's eyes bugged out and smoke billowed from his ears. "You have got to be kidding me." 

"No, sir. Between the cost of the drugs we bought from the Mexican and Chinese drug cartels, and the security detail from the Yakuza...well, it all added up. Then there are all the girls. As you have repeatedly said, only the best quality when it comes to temptation. We didn't hold back this year and our losses will show it." 

Satan said, "Well, fuck." He looked at the fireplace in the corner of his office and the kindling and wood set there burst into flames. The glow filled his office and flickered on the faces of his advisors. He sat back and crossed his arms and looked down petulantly at his desk. He had a copy of Bosch's "The Garden of Earthly Delights" underneath the glass on his desk and it usually cheered him up. Not today. 

He looked up and stared at Penemue and Mammon, his eyes blazing. They both looked down. "Praise me." 

They both immediately fell to their knees. Penemue spoke first. "Thank you for your leadership, Dark Lord. Your guidance has been perfect. Your response to this has been perfect. Every phone call you've ever made has been perfect. YOU are perfect." 

Satan waved his hand and Penemue immediately stopped talking. Satan had grown tired of his obsequiousness. He was still a loyal demon, but fucking hell, what an ass-kisser! He looked at Mammon. 

Mammon spoke up and said, "Your leadership is unparalleled in the history of Hell, my Lord. Your guidance has led us to the best economy Hell has ever had. It's only a matter of time before we'll put this behind us and move on to the next crisis." He realized what he had said and abruptly stopped talking. 

Satan glowered at him but then smiled, his fangs flashing in the firelight. "Yes, of course. As long as I run Hell, there will be another crisis. And I'm not going anywhere soon." 

***

This little story was inspired by the meme my friend Toni posted (seen above). Thank you for being my muse, Toni! Love you lots! 

As much as I dislike this song and this band, there is still no better version of this song, in my opinion. 

A melancholy lament

Hey I guess you're lonely when
I gave you all it took so then
Stranger than it's ever been

~~ "Godless" by The Dandy Warhols

We had an email yesterday from one of our favorite restaurants downtown, LaSalle Grill/LaSalle Kitchen and Tavern. (The Grill is downstairs and is the fancy place that has the wine dinners we occasionally go to and is considered one of the best restaurants in town. Its upstairs companion is more casual and we go there more often for dinners before a show or a drink after. They share the same kitchen, though.) They were offering a dinner for curbside pickup consisting of Wagyu beef burgers, their wonderful mac n cheese, a couple of other things, and a 6-pack of good beer. It was a great price and it was hard to say no, especially when we're doing what we can to support local restaurants. 

Our last night out for a meal was March 7th, when we went to dinner before a show, so we jumped on the deal. I just told Ken that I wanted to ride along when he went to pick it up. I've been out a couple of times to the pharmacy and the store, but I find that when I'm driving, I feel oddly on high alert, like someone is going to plow into me at any moment. Considering our rural area, it could even be a plow. So I feel very weird when out driving right now. I was looking forward to just riding along and seeing our beloved downtown. 

I didn't anticipate how utterly sad and emotional it would make me feel. I mean, I really did not see that coming. I thought it was a chance to get out and enjoy a little ride on a nice sunny day. The first hint I had was seeing a fence along the main drag into downtown where someone had woven into the chainlink "Stay Strong USA" with a heart. That's when I started getting choked up. It only got worse as we got into downtown. There were still cars out and about but they were much sparser than an ordinary weeknight evening. 

I saw so many familiar places and sites but everything was closed down. No one was bustling about going to dinner or grabbing a pint at Brew Werks and the marquee at the Morris was dark. Our usual haunts seemed...well, haunted. 

By the time we pulled up at the LaSalle, I was feeling genuine anguish. Because I was the one curbside, I put my mask on. When our server came out with our food and put it in the back seat, I said, "Stay strong! We love you guys!" and I felt a tear fall out of my eye. Then another server brought out our 6-pack and put it on the floor of the backseat and I said, "Hang in there!" and we thanked him. 

As we drove off, we went by Fiddler's Hearth and Madison Oyster Bar. No inside patrons. No one walking on the streets. Speaking of that, even the streets of South Michigan Street (what could be considered our small red-light district) were empty, and The Torch and Peaches were closed. I said, "Man, you know it's bad when even the strip clubs are closed!" 

What I thought would be a pleasant little drive downtown—and my goodness, I'd forgotten what a simple joy I felt as a kid when my parents would say, "Let's go for a drive!"—turned out to be something that made me feel really sad. It made me think of all the fun times we've had downtown, out for dinner, out to see a show, out to take visiting friends to show off our Riverlights or to have brunch with the Kansas City/Chicago Crew the morning after our annual house show, out to take in a South Bend Cubs game on a warm summer day, out for the Riverlights Music Festival, out for Art Beat, running into friends and family, sharing hugs and laughs...all the little things that make my life so enriched and joyful. 

I miss them. I miss them all. 

So tonight I'm going to allow myself to feel sad and mourn those things. I know they're not gone forever and I know we'll get back to enjoying all those things and more. We'll make new memories. But I don't know when that will happen. At the moment, things feel broken, and I feel like the repairs will be slow and sometimes painful. Will some of our favorite places survive? 

It pains me to say it, but I just don't know. I hope so. 

Testing, testing...sibilance

It's like sand in one hand you can't hold for long
Like scheming on a plan that goes all wrong
It's like fudge and caramel they're not the same
And it's a shame all you talk is game

~~ "Just A Test" - by Beastie Boys

A couple, both nurses, fighting together to help others

Apparently, the Coronavirus Task Force has come up with a plan at the so-called "president's" behest called the Opening Up America Again plan. I would propose we call it the Opening Up America's Legs Again plan. Just relax and enjoy it, okay? 

I shouldn't be too sarcastic, but hey, it's what I do. It's actually a fairly good plan, from what I can tell, that is based on decent medical input from the healthcare experts on the panel. (With all due respect—and I mean that quite literally—Mr. "President," fuck your gut feelings.)

A friend asked me the other day if it was reasonable to reopen the economy as soon as the idiot wants it. I responded, "Absolutely not. Not yet." The plan hinges upon widespread testing, both diagnostic and serological, to see if people have an active infection or have had it and have antibodies to it. This is necessary. Neither test is widespread at the moment. The idiot loves to say that we've done more tests than any country in the world, but the truth is that we have tested about 1% of our population. That's ONE percent. People with mild symptoms still cannot get tested.

We are not at the capacity for testing that we need. We are short of test kits, reagents, instruments, and personnel to do the tests. We are short of Personal Protective Equipment that protects all healthcare workers. We are even short of the swabs and transport media with which the specimen is taken. 

Of course, we all know that we need to get people back to work. This is devastating for millions of people, in our own country and around the world. But at what price when it comes to mortality? We've got people like Indiana representative (not mine, thank science) Trey Hollingsworth and notorious quack Dr. Oz talking about acceptable levels of mortality...that it's okay to get people back to work and kids back to school if the death rate from the premature opening stays at a certain low percentage. 

How utterly vile. (Hey, Dr. Oz...you might want to revisit the Hippocratic Oath you took. Fucker.)

One of the best journalists I've seen lately writing on the pandemic is the science writer for The Atlantic, Ed Yong. Be sure to read his article "Our Pandemic Summer," in which he writes about the steps that need to be taken in order to get us up and running again. Short answer: things are going to be weird for some time. We're talking months, if not years. Widespread testing is the first step and we simply don't have that yet. We just don't. Large crowds will be verboten for some time, at least until we get a vaccine. We need to understand this reality because it is ours and reality is non-negotiable. 

Then we've got idiots in Michigan—just a few miles away from us, and with one of the highest case rates in the country—bitching about travel restrictions and gathering to protest their Governor's draconian edicts. Gathering with their guns and no masks and I seriously hope they all infect each other. 

We are nowhere near the point we need to be with testing. Get ready for a weird summer and more cases in the fall. 

Reality.

Why I watch

Now, you chicks do agree
That this ain't the way love's supposed to be
Let me hear, let me hear you say yeah, yeah
Can I get a witness?

~~ "Can I Get A Witness" by Holland, Dozier, and Holland

I've been watching the daily press briefings when possible and to be honest, that is most days now. It's rare for me to miss one. 

I've had numerous friends ask me how I can subject myself to it. How I can "torment" myself. How I can handle it. 

I've had more friends tell me that they count on me to provide commentary because they just can't stand to watch it. I am happy to take on that mantle because of my answer to the first question: I am bearing witness. 

Yeah, It raises my blood pressure and yeah, it makes me crazy for a while...but we are experiencing this right here, right now, and I want to be able to say that I witnessed virtually every moment of this so-called "president" and his utter failure to handle this crisis.

I want to say that I heard him say, "I bear no responsibility." 

I want to say that I listened as he blamed everyone from Barack Obama to the World Health Organization to the individual states. 

I want to say that I watched as he chastised journalists for not praising him for a job well done. 

This has never been more true than today, as I watched him completely melt down as he was grilled by reporters about his response and lashed out at them for daring to question him. As I write this, it happened five or so hours ago and I am still gobsmacked by his unhinged performance. This person is not well. I know it's been said before, but if one of our relatives behaved in this manner, we'd be having a family conference to discuss what is going on and what our options might be. 

And we're talking about the leader of the free world. 

This is not normal. This isn't within spitting distance of normal. This is a full-on batshit DEFCON-1 level of NOT NORMAL. 

As upsetting as it can be, I'm going to watch every fucking minute of it. I'm not melting down. I'm not losing my shit. (That would be him, not me.) I am not subjecting myself nor am I tormenting myself. 

I am watching. 

My Sanctuary

Times are tough, frustration
Need relief, medication
Gone too far, intoxication
Fight the urge, of temptation
Sanctuary
It's much too close, contamination
Love and pain, and deviation

~~ "Sanctuary" by The J. Geils Band

The shape of Nutwood to come

Some of you may know that the name of this blog comes from what we named our place: Nutwood Junction. Long story short, it got its name because this used to be a little unincorporated town called Nutwood, and a railroad ran through here. We still own half of the railroad bed (the railroad has long been out of commission and the rails and ties torn up), and the property across the road was the site of a small railroad depot. 

Anyway, I have always called this place "my sanctuary." When I was working, I could hardly wait to get home, stripping off my scrubs as soon as I got in the door and changing into comfy clothes, and that was never more so than during nice weather. I'd head out to the deck immediately to read the mail, get some fresh air, and just take in some nature. We have eleven acres, including a few small ponds, wetlands, and woods, and a multitude of wildlife and birds. Even on my darkest days, it renews my soul. 

That is truer than ever at the moment. The weather will get colder this weekend (that's why I never plant anything until mid-May, at the earliest) but today felt like summer was just around the corner. It got up to the mid-70s and I was able to open several windows and enjoy some fresh air. I spent a little time out on the deck sweeping it off, getting the bird feeders filled, and repairing a favorite bamboo wood chime. (Please ignore the rubber band. That was the easiest way to fix it!)

We had a big thunderstorm last night (and will probably have another one this evening) and that has really started waking things up. The trees are budding and I'm seeing some sprouts of green out front and out in the woods. It's only a matter of time before we are in full foliage. 

The world is just all kinds of fucked up right now (and none more so than this current administration) but seeing our place come back to life made me feel joyful and maybe even a little hopeful. Long after we're gone, nature will renew itself (unless we manage to fuck that up, too, and the current administration says, "Hold my beer"), and will keep on keeping on. She'd probably be better off without us. 

I honestly don't know what will happen. I worry. I worry a lot, Bevvie! (Bonus points to anyone who gets that reference.) I worry about Ken, I worry about my Mom and my sisters, I worry about Shane and Matt, I worry about our friends, I worry about friends I've never met, I worry about our local artists and musicians and restaurants...and I worry about pretty much everyone in the goddamn world. 

But today, the windows are open, the frogs are peeping in the ponds, I'm barefoot, and you know what? 

I'll take it.