Judging Appearances, part I
Not too long ago a young woman made medical history. She stepped up to the microphones and announced that she was recepient of the face transplant. Her own face was blown off in a gun accident. A generous donor stepped in and with unprecidented medical skill her face is now on the way to being rebuilt. She wasn't there to plea for more money for transplant research. Instead, she asked the public to remember her and know firsthand that she is so much more than how she appears. It was time to give up judging people by their looks. Everyone applauded and cheered in loud, hearty enthusiastic approval. The TV station then cut to a commercial...on what? A cream to make women appear years younger. The mixed message had, again, been successfully sent off with its final word to linger, most likely, the longest in viewer's minds.On a related note, I present to you my Walk Ladies. You may see age, wrinkles, gray hair, and some unfashionable roundness. But these ladies are my heroes, and their looks are most deceptive. One is a two-time breast cancer survivor. She has used her skills as an accomplished horsewoman to teach autistic children by teaching them how to care, feed, and ride horses. Another is a mother of three, of whom meth addiction took two, and not for lack of medical or parental intervention. One is a native of the devastated town of Greensburg, Kansas. She has been instrumental in helping that town recover and redesign itself as a green community. One is a former peacecorps worker who made a career afterwards of working with the sick and one of the few nurses who walked the streets of San Francisco looking for those afflicted with what was later recognized as acquired immune deficiency. She helped start the AIDS quilt. Another has logged over 100,000 miles of travel donating her computer skills and materiel to poor countries in hopes they can participate in the democracy of the internet. Three maintain their status as registered nurses, all help run the local food closet which helps barely-funded local and state governments keep the poor and unemployed fed.
And the dogs? They help all of us keep to the Path.
A few days ago, I finally went to the hospital to have the good doc fix my foot. I have "teachers" arthritis from standing on concrete for 12 years. In the end, my orthotics made little difference other than to forestall the inevitable. The treatment was to take apart the toe bones, clean out masses of calcified overgrowth, recarve the bones back to their original shape, and poke holes in their ends to stimulate growth of cartillage lost while things were calcifying. Once this foot is good to go, the other foot gets it.
