Other FACT magazine mixes here

FACT Mix 108 – Guido

Tracklist:

01 Guido feat Aarya – Beautiful Complication
02 Peverelist – Infinity Is Now
03 Kito – Lfo
04 L-Wiz – Tvångströjjan
05 Mala – Alicia
06 Peverelist & Pinch – Revival
07 Rustie – Tempered
08 Mala – Level 9
09 Superisk – Find ya way
10 Mia – Bucky done gun (Davinche remix)
11 Joker – Output 1 & 2
12 Smith & Mighty – Love & Unity
13 Guido – Chakra
14 L-Wiz – Fotbojan
15 Wedge & Shadz – Runnin Away (Guido remix)
16 RSD – Naked Mario Kart
17 Floating Points – K & G Beat

Some crazy things have been happening in my life since the last time I wrote. It’s been a bit overwhelming, so I didn’t feel that I needed to see a recap in writing. But now I’m ready. I’m taking a breath. A very short one, but enough to take a step ahead.

First off, I may be sick. Not life-threateningly ill, but sick enough to impact my life for the rest of my life. I’ll be seeing a specialist tomorrow to see if I have a rare neurological disease called RSD. *”Reflex sympathetic dystrophy (RSD), also called complex regional pain syndrome (CRPS), is a chronic, painful, and progressive neurological condition that affects the skin, muscles, joints, and bones.” This may be the answer to all the pain in my leg that has been steadily gnawing a hole in my life these past months, years even. I am out of the knee brace, out of the wheelchair, and off the crutches. But relief didn’t come from my forced captivity like they thought it would. And through many tests, scans, therapy sessions, and doctors visits, they believe they have found the problem sheerly through the process of elimination. And that answer is RSD. Unsure of what that is? So was I about two weeks ago. The day I came home with that loose diagnosis, I was sure the doctor was completely wrong. But after much researching and listening, I see that this may ring closer to the truth than any other guesswork that’s gone into this. I have all the symptoms. All signs point to a misfiring nervous system that causes pain and swelling/bruising symptoms varying in severity from a burning sensation to freezing cold limbs and debilitating pain that leaves the sufferer unable to walk on their own for extended periods of time. They say you learn to take each day as it comes. One day you may be on crutches. One day you can walk. The next day you may be in a wheelchair. And since they didn’t catch it early enough (in the first three months), the spinal block treatments won’t work on me. Which means – if I have this, I’m stuck with it for life.
There are 3-4 stages of RSD, and it appears I’m in stage 1 of type 2, which means it was onset by a trauma to the affected area: my poorly done surgery of last year to remove a bone chip from my tendon.

If I do have this, like most illnesses, it not only affects me, but the ones that I love the most. It’s them that I’ll need when the times do get rough, as they already have, as they’ll continue to do. I need to adjust my mindset now, which will take work. I’ve spent a year looking forward to the end of the madness, the light at the end of the tunnel that I knew had to be drawing closer with all the doctors trying to help me. If I do have this, it’s progressive – meaning I know it will be a life altering thing I’m dealing with here instead, and it will affect my day-to-day lifestyle, job, family, future plans…
But I know we’ll all get through it. What other option is there, really? You just have to dive in. If you’re getting pushed off a cliff, you might as well try to point yourself in the right direction after the fall. If you don’t, you’ll just hurt yourself worse on impact.

I may not have it at all.
We shall see. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say it’s been heavy on my heart. Nothing to dwell on.

On another note, as it turns out, this California girl has an exit strategy in the very near future. The last 18 years of my life have been spent in this state, but I think I’m ready for the next adventure life can throw at me. It looks like my whole family will be moving to Washington state when February rolls around. The decision was greatly mulled over, and reached abruptly in the end. Why keep rehashing the same old questions that we won’t get answers to unless we try? So we’re trying. My dad will be taking a position as a country pastor for a tiny church with a huge heart to grow at the foot of the White Horse mountain range a few dozen miles south of the Canadian border.
We’ll reside closer to the city for the rest of my family to have job possibilities – with Seattle less than an hour away.
It’s quite possible this subject is still too open for me to zero in on and really write about. The decision was a huge one. I guess all there is to do now is just see where it takes us.
The questions are many, the answers are few. The sorrows are great, and the excitement is budding.
I’m a melting pot of emotion.

What’s more? I have one of the biggest shows in my musical career coming up this Wednesday. It’s at a well known bay area venue called the Avalon, and for the first time, I was promoting ticket sales to my own event. I’m excited and weirded out at the same time, is that possible? Excited for the biggest show yet, weirded out that I’m on the bill with a handful of other bands at a venue like the one I just saw my favorite band at. My new EP will be released this same night, and I’m thrilled about this. The cover art my friend Joleen created for me made me cry when I saw it.
I’m such a girl.

As this show was in the works, I also happened to meet and strike up a friendship with a guy I met in a game shop. After a couple of weeks, he told me that he just so happened to be a DJ for a nationwide radio station, and he’d looked up my music. He played my stuff for the world last night and this morning while I sat in a chatroom with listeners and read their reactions. And this, my friend, is risky and oddly tempting all at the same time. One man asked what the garbage he was listening to was. “Me”, I wanted to happily chime in, but didn’t. Honest reactions are more important to me than Netiquette and the rules of politeness. Luckily, in two days worth of chatrooms, that was the only negative reaction. After my second spot on the show, I had an inquiry about a possible small scale UK tour from a native. And amazingly enough (bless my good fortune), she has connections to the owners of music venues from Wales to Essex. She is currently contacting the lot of them.
I do believe I feel a song coming on.

This is life.
You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both – and there you have it.

Bitter tasting medicine is ok when you wash it down with ice-cream. As long as you can find a way to maintain a balance, nothing will ever get too out of hand, right? I’m trusting in God that that’s right. And as my grandma always says, “Satan doesn’t kick a dead dog.”
Figure it out.

**http://www.neurologychannel.com/rsd/index.shtml

Today I read an article in Medscape regarding the issue of whether or not a physician should tell their patients if they make a mistake in the medical care of the patient.  You can read the article here.

I have suffered greatly because of physicians’ medical errors.

The first time, was in 1991. I had a D&C for a miscarriage.  After the procedure I continued to have bleeding and began to develop severe abdominal pain.  I informed my physician and the office said to make a follow up appointment.  I had the D&C where I lived and it was far away from my work place, so a secretary at my office got me in to see her doctor at the medical school clinic.  Over a course of three weeks, I saw five physicians.  None of them could figure out what was wrong with me. One of the doctors, did a pregnancy test.  She asked me if my stools were dark and I told her they were.  My pregnancy test was still highly positive.  She brought up the possibility of a tubal pregnancy but after consulting with the head of surgery she told me that wasn’t a possibility.

My last clinic appointment was with the head of surgery.  He examined me and reviewed my case and concluded that I was a post-partum neurotic.  He gave me a Demerol shot and advised me to go home.  Fortunately, a urologist I had seen was there and he said he thought something was wrong with me.  He said he was going to admit me to the hospital and he sent me down to GYN for a sonogram.

After they performed the sono, the doctor pulled out a huge, long needle.  I asked what they were going to do.  I was informed that they saw pus on my sono so they were going to extract it via my vaginal canal.

After they began the procedure, the physician turned towards the intern and told him to page the surgeon stat for emergency surgery.  He told me I had massive bleeding in my abdominal cavity.

They rushed me into emergency surgery.  I remember the doctors running down the halls pushing my gurney to the OR, all in slow motion.  A nurse told me I might not survive.  Fortunately, a top specialist in fallopian tube repair was on call.  I had a ruptured tubal pregnancy, not post-partum neurosis.  The specialist successfully repaired the tube.

After surgery, the urologist came in to apologize to me.  He told me that I had a tubal pregnancy.  All the doctors assumed because I had a D&C that I couldn’t have a tubal pregnancy.  The surgeon who repaired my tube had been a professor of the doctor who did my D&C.  He called the doctor and asked him the results of the D&C pathology report.  It showed no fetal cells.  Physicians are routinely supposed to read pathology reports after surgery, but the physician said it had been misfiled.  The doctor who repaired my fallopian tube told my original physician to call me immediately and apologize to me, which he did.

Fortunately, everything turned out okay.  I had a baby boy two years later.  Obviously this happened because of slightly unusual circumstances, tubal pregnancy, but there was gross physician error involved.

Did I feel better that the physician apologized.  Yes I did.  I still was angry that none of the other physicians, especially the head of surgery, did not come to see me after surgery and apologize.  Did I consider suing?  It crossed my mind but since I was in the medical profession I knew that there was no case because there was no loss of organs.

The second incident occurred in 1997.  I was having right sided abdominal pain.  I consulted a GYN and she told she would do surgery to remove abdominal adhesions.  She did a laprascopy but found massive adhesions. Without informing me or my husband or obtaining a surgical consult, she converted the surgery to a laparotomy. When she was trying to remove adhesions, she accidentally injured three nerves in my abdominal area.

After surgery I had trouble walking and severe abdominal pain.  She told me both symptoms would pass and sent me home.  For two weeks I difficulty walking and severe pain.  I saw her for a follow up visit.  She told me the surgery went well and that she thought I had a psychosomatic disorder that caused my pain.  She explained to me stress can do things to the body and put me on antidepressants.

I tried to see her again but she refused to see me.

I suffered with this pain for years and over the years it got much worse.  No one could figure out what was wrong with me.  I ended up seeing a pain management doctor for treatment of my symptoms.

In 2003, we moved and I saw a pain specialist who was a neurologist. He did some testing and told me I had reflex sympathetic dystrophy which is a chronic pain syndrome. He said after reviewing my records, my disorder had likely developed after a complication in the abdominal adhesion surgery.  I obtained my medical records. We discovered what she had done. Did I file a lawsuit? It was too late to pursue any legal recourse.  Was I upset?  Tremendously so.  It has affected my whole life.  I am tortured every day by severe pain.

Do I think that physicians should tell patients when they made an error in their treatment?  Of course. When you as a customer pay for services you expect to be informed if any errors occurred in the performance of your service.  What do you do when your accountant makes an error in your tax return, your mechanic doesn’t fix your car as he or see promised, or an appliance you were sold doesn’t work?  You complain to the appropriate people and expect an apology and an assurance that the problem with be fixed if possible.  If the service provider is unable to fix the problem, you expect some compensation.

So why do so many physicians not tell their patient about medical mistakes?  I think because as medical students, physicians come to understand that telling patients about your mistakes just isn’t the thing that doctors should do.  They should be seen by their patients as a person with superior knowledge in the medical field so the patient will be able to trust them.   Also, their medical malpractice insurance is ridiculously high and they are afraid that they will be taken to the cleaners in court.

First of all, almost all medical malpractice claims are settled out of court.  I have done quality peer review of patient cases with physicians.  Most people who find out that a medical mistake in their care end up not suing.  They may threaten to sue but often change their mind when they find out how difficult the process to recover any damages may be.

The attitude of the physician as the great healer, keeper of medical knowledge, and the condescending “protective” relationship of the doctor to the patient should have been thrown out years ago.  Today’s medical consumer is much more likely to want to know what is going on with their care and they also have more tools to research their illness via the Internet.  Doctors say that medical information on the Internet is incomplete and full of errors.  That is true, but a large part of the population of people are educated, especially the baby boomer generation.  They are use to obtaining and receiving information where and when they want it.  And half of the doctors look up medical information on Wikipedia!

So, as the baby boomers mature into their elder years, I believe the consumer movement in health care will explode with thousands of people seeking information about their medical histories and care.  It will probably change the practice of medicine.

I think the role of the doctor today should be that of patient advocate.  The doctor should be a team member in providing good medical care for the patient. He or she should encourage their patients to become informed and welcome their efforts to find out information regarding their condition.  If the doctor is able to communicate with the patient about their knowledge and continues to encourage good communication between the patient and the doctor, it is reasonable to assume that misunderstandings that lead to threats of lawsuits will decrease tremendously.

Many physicians say that they will not tell their patient about any mistakes they may have made in their patients medical care.  Consumer trends and new governmental reform may force them to reveal more information. They should get used to providing information to their patients.

Marissa Woodruff and her classmates at Rochester School for the Deaf (RSD), in Rochester, NY, are addressing a problem long confronted by Deaf and Hard of hearing airline passengers, the inability to get information once in flight. They are proposing that airlines add LED Messaging Boards in their planes, like the ones RSD uses in all of its school buildings.

The RSD 10th class is starting with one airline, Jet Blue, in hopes that the idea will spread. Soon, a Jet Blue representative will visit RSD to see the students proposal. If successful the change may begin locally with Rochester flights. It is obvious that this simple and fairly inexpensive technology would benefit not only the Deaf and Hard of hearing but all passengers.

You can show your support by visiting http://www.petitionspot.com/petitions… and signing the students petition. Watch Marissa Woodruff’s YouTube video about this effort http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IHW_L3T555s

Than you!

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I bought a small quantity of flupirtine tablets from Germany. I wanted to see if it would help some of my pain that my usual opiates (fentanyl, methadone, hydromorphone) do not touch.  One type of intractable pain resembles Fibromyalgia (FM), an all-over achy pain, particularly deep in the joints, that comes and goes.  When it comes, it stays for hours or sometimes days.  It never just starts and then goes away.  I don’t know if it’s actually FM, or just another facet of my RSD.

Flupirtine maleate is a centrally acting, non-opioid analgesic that has been available in Europe for years.  It was used for lower back pain and post-surgical pain, and then for pain, generally.

Here’s the really important thing.  It also has CNS neuroprotective properties.   This is leading to its possible use for treating CNS neurodegenerative syndromes such as Alzheimer’s Disease, Multiple Sclerosis, Parkinson’s, Huntington’s and Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease, including cognition in CJD.  It might be useful for FTD treatment, too.  Flupirtine is currently undergoing FDA trials for treating Fibromyalgia.  It is also known in Europe as Katadolon and Trancolong.  It is not available in the USA, as it is not FDA approved.

Typical dosage for adults is 100mg three or four times a day, half that for children.  I’m not sure about long-term use or side-effects, yet.  Most of the information is hidden behind registration walls, and I haven’t had time to do all the registrations.

Here is what happened with my first dose:

• 3:00 pm — fibromyalgia-like pain starts
• 3:25 pm — took 100mg flupirtine by mouth
• 4:45 pm — I realize the fibromyalgia-like pain is gone
• 4:55 pm — bad headache in upper right forehead
• 5:30 pm — took 1500mg acetaminophen and a short nap, and the headache’s gone

I think the headache is a side-effect of the flupirtine.  The location is exactly where I get a headache and feel electric sensations when I have flare-ups of FTD symptoms.  I doubt that’s a coincidence.  And headaches were reported as side-effects in a good article on flupirtine’s half-life for young, elderly, and renally-impaired patients.

PS.

I got the flupirtine from goldpharma.com, an internet pharmacy in Germany.  You have to fill out a brief medical history for a doctor to review to get the prescription.  The process was very fast, it only took a few minutes from submitting the history to get the prescription, and they shipped it the next day.  We got it in about a week.  The flupirtine came in 400mg tablets, so Selchietracker got a pill cutter, cut the tablets in half and then cut those halves in half to get the 100mg individual doses.  He thought it was kind of neat that the box of “Trancolong” also had the name in braille.  Geek.

Breathing—we do it all day and all night, and almost never think a thing about it, until we’re knocked out with a nuisance of a cold once or twice a year. And having giant healthy lungs, which most of us are blessed with, means that we never really give any thought to tiny premature baby lungs, the size of our thumbs, struggling to fill with air.

But then, this morning I read Julie’s post this morning and thought to myself, “Once again, she says it better than anyone.”  While we mothers of NICU warriors might have healthy children today, with just the faintest of scars to show for that time, we carry our own deep scars, etched on our hearts. Perhaps the only way to heal those is to do some small thing in hopes that another baby and another parent won’t have to live through the time we did.

And what seems crazy to me now is that I really didn’t know how sick he was.  It wasn’t until a doctor said, “This is really tough…but we think he’ll go home with you,” that I understood he still might not…

I breathed for Charlie that night, sitting by his bed, crying, eyeballs so swollen that it hurt to move them in my head, nostrils scrubbed raw by hospital paper towels.  Every gurgle of his CPAP happened, it seemed, because we willed it.  His breaths, when they resumed, were only because we worked for them when he couldn’t. Which isn’t true, of course.  The tickle of the feet and the rubbing of the belly helped, but it was the drip of caffeine, the caustic burst of antibiotic, and the transfusion that eventually brought him around.  It was the science: serendipity and inspiration tempered by years of research and refinement, the careful observation and adjustment, a dedication that awes me.  My deep gulps of air did nothing, practically speaking, for Charlie.  All they did was keep me upright, somehow, next to the isolette.

Like many preterm babies, when Charlie was born, his lungs were immature.  They lacked surfactant, a substance that keeps the lungs from closing and collapsing upon exhalation, and couldn’t stay open on their own.  The development of artificial surfactant therapy, funded by the March of Dimes in the 1980s, ushered in a tenfold decrease in the number of babies who die from RDS (respiratory distress syndrome).  Three doses of surfactant and five years later, Charlie’s not only alive but thriving, the only artifact of  his prematurity an occasional touch of asthma.

Julie, at A Little Pregnant

I could have written it, but she does it better, and I hope you’ll take a moment to read her entire post and take her up on her offer to donate for each story you share in the comments.

I can’t write it like Julie does, I but I join her today in her offer—in honor of our Henry, and Julie’s son Charlie and my beautiful niece and nephew Isabella and Andrew, born at 30 weeks, I will donate a dollar to the March of Dimes for every story you share about prematurity touching your life. One per reader, please.

And thank you to longtime Hank & Willie readers who have so kindly donated to the March of Dimes at my urging in the past.

And as I have said before,

if you’ve known a preemie,

if your child was a preemie,

if you were a preemie,

if you’re grateful that you didn’t have a preemie,

if you might someday have a preemie,

if you’d like to honor the medical professionals that cared for Henry or a preemie in your life,

or if you just think my Henry is a tough guy,

you even can make your own donation here.

I bet I can even find a few more embarrassing photos of myself to post if the March of Dimes gets some H & W donations this year!

Thank you.

During the month of November there will be an RSD/CRPS awareness here on FaceBook. PLEASE use a picture or image of RSD as your profile picture during the month of November. You can get pictures at the links provided for you or if you prefer you may copy an image from this event. This is a worldwide VIRTUAL event – so you can attend no matter what!

LET THE AWARNESS BEGIN!!

WORLD WIDE RSD/CRPS AWARENESS
NOVEMBER 1ST, 2009 12:00AM CENTRAL to
NOVEMBER 30TH, 2009 12.00 AM

* LET OUR VOICES BE HEARD! Our goal for the month of November is to spread awareness, understanding and education about RSD/CRPS so others will learn more about Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy aka Complex Regional Pain Syndrome.

FACT:
* ANYONE CAN GET RSD, ANY AGE, ANYTIME, ANYWHERE ON THIER BODY
* THERE IS NO CURE FOR IT, though there are some treatments that may help make life more bareable.
* A PERSON CAN GET RSD FROM SURGERY, INJURY, BROKEN BONE, OR NO REASON AT ALL, AND MORE
* RSD OFTEN GOES MISDIAGNOSED
* RSD CAN SPREAD
* RSD IS NOT IN OUR HEAD, IT IS NOT CAUSED BY DEPRESSION, THE PAIN IS REAL AND WE ARE NOT USING IT AS AN EXCUSE TO GAIN ATTENTION

WAYS TO HELP PEOPLE WHO HAVE RSD/CRPS
* LEARN MORE ABOUT IT
* BE SUPPORTIVE – BELIEVE THEM
* HELP THEM WHEN THEY NEED HELP
* SEEK COUNSELING IF NEEDED
* DON’T CUT THEM DOWN
* GO WITH THEM TO DOCTORS APPOINTMENTS
* GIVE THEM A SHOULDER TO LEAN ON WHEN THEY NEED TO CRY
* NEVER LET THEM GIVE UP AND DON’T GIVE UP ON THEM

I JUST NEED A HELPING HAND

What can I do to make people understand
All I need is a helping hand
I’m not trying to make things go my way
People please listen to what I say
My mind isn’t the same as it use to be
And it’s all because of RSD
I can’t do the things I use to do
And it’s hard for me to start something new
I keep on trying day after day
To make things go smooth in every way
It hurts to stand, sit or walk
And sometimes it’s hard for me talk
I don’t like what I’m putting you through
And it’s all because of what I can’t do
There’s so many days when I sit and cry
Half the time I don’t even know why
There’s so many days I wish I was dead
Cuz of all the crazy thoughts going through my head
It’s not my fault I have this RSD
Its not my fault for what they did to me
Its not my fault I need a helping hand
I’m trying to do the best I can

I just want to know: will I ever be able to relax?

I am on edge all of the time, over little things, over nothing. I feel like I’m walking on a fraying tightrope, over a pit of snapping alligators, with no safety net to save me if—when—I fall. I feel like those neurotic dogs you see from time to time, endlessly chasing their tails; they have no idea why they’re doing it, clearly, but they’re driven, they must, do it nonetheless.

I hate this. I hate when the panic stifles me, paralyzes me, so that I can’t do anything that I need to do. Someone once said to me, “Well, wait a minute, anxiety makes it so you can’t sit still, so you have to be doing something, so how can you not be getting something done?”

Because there is no one-size-fits-all blanket cover panic attack, that’s how. Or why. Because it depends on a million other factors, and not just the mental health articles whose titles you skim online.

If the manic phase of bipolar mania has me in its teeth, I can’t stop doing things. I can’t. I will go until I quite literally drop from pain and/or exhaustion. And if the RSD [Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy Disease] I live with is also in high gear on a high-anxiety mania day, I’m screwed, because on the one hand, I have to move, I have to do things, but on the other hand, I’m dealing with swollen and/or discolored limbs, intense skin sensitivity, and pain that is so excruciating that I can’t even bear to take a shower or brush my hair.

When my husband’s blood pressure was up high once more at a recent visit to his pain physician (he, too, is disabled, but his injuries were on the job), his medical provider said he needed to go see his family doctor and that she would forward documentation of his blood pressure measurements. “I don’t have a family doctor yet,” my husband said and she shot back, “You’ve been telling me that for months.”

I jumped in and explained the bizarre and complicated situation we’ve been in with our Medicaid and food stamps applications for over six months now, all thanks to Medicaid fraud and identity theft, committed by persons eager to destroy our lives just a little bit more.

What I didn’t, couldn’t, say was, that it’s still going on is my fault. There’s a stack of papers on my desk that I need to sign, fill out, fax or send back in that will get the process completed, only some days, my anxiety is so bad, I can’t do anything, can’t deal with anything. Some days, the anxiety is so paralyzing I can’t bear to walk across the street to my mailbox, or if I do, I can’t bear to open any mail. Some days, it’s so intense that I can’t hold a conversation nor put together a coherent thought. Some days, it’s so bad that rather than call the electric company to make payment arrangements, I will have to put it off so that I end up having to go to a local charity agency for assistance, where I have to stand outside in line two hours before they open, because it’s just that bad.

I can’t wait until I can get to a psychiatrist again, even though I’ve only ever had one really good one, one that I felt I could trust, one that understood me. The last one I had was through a low-cost clinic where we used to live, and she was a real prize.

The first thing she said to me after reading my file was, “Well, I have chronic anxiety, but I know how to control it without meds. If I’m driving when it happens, I just pull over to the side of the road and take a few deep breaths.” I said that if that worked for her, she’d never experienced a true panic attack.

The psychologist she referred me to for “talk therapy” (gods, what a waste!) was an innocent young thing who might be a really good therapist one day, after she’s lived a bit and got some real-life experiences under her hand bag. That naïve young lady said to me one day, “I saw the bumper stickers on your car, so you’re a Wiccan, right?” In point of fact, I am not a Wiccan; I am a Pagan. Before I could respond, she went on, “I know what that’s all about. I have a friend and she does rituals ‘n stuff.”

Rituals ‘n stuff?

One thing that this young woman did encourage me to do was take up a craft to help distract my mind from hysteria-inducing trains of thought. I had always wanted to learn to knit, so I bought some basic instruction books and supplies and started knitting. On approximately my third appointment with Ms. I Can Control My Anxiety Without Meds psychiatrist, I had brought my knitting with me, as my appointments with her almost never started on, or even nearly on, time.

I was stuffing it into a bag, this little scarf I was working on, when she walked into her office. She didn’t even ask if she could see it, but grabbed it from me, sat down at her desk, proceeded to heavily criticize my work (I knew it wasn’t perfect before she started in), rip out several rows of stitches and tell me she’d show me the right way to do it because, “I can knit in the dark. I used to practice at boarding school after lights out when I was a girl. This is just awful.”

Whoopee for you.

She didn’t stop to consider the effects of her actions on a patient who has serious self-esteem issues, let alone how it would affect my anxiety. I took the knitting home and put it in a box, and did not even try to knit anything for the next two years.

While I was waiting to be transferred to another psychiatrist, the apartment complex we lived in at the time experienced a serious fire, courtesy of some kids playing in their mother’s boyfriend’s home meth-lab experiments. It traumatized me so greatly that I couldn’t get myself to leave the house for a couple of weeks afterwards. I mean, I couldn’t even step outside the door to go to the mailbox or look at a sunset or BBQ some steaks on the porch. During that time, I needed a refill of the Klonopin that she prescribed me (because, in her words, only “drug addicts ever take Xanax and pain medicine of any kind at the same time”. I know; whatever), so called and spoke with her assistant. I had called several days earlier to reschedule my appointment, and had missed none prior to this. When I asked for the refill, I didn’t even ask for a whole month’s supply; I was only asking for enough so that I could get through one of the worst prolonged panic attack episodes I have ever experienced to date.

Her reply was that if I wanted more medicine to cope with my anxiety, I would have to beat my anxiety.

Huh?

I never went back to her again.

Twice, it’s been so bad that I have tried to get myself hospitalized in order to get help.

The first time was shortly after the apartment fire incident. It was after hours and the on-call nurse told me to go to a local twenty-four hour mental health crisis agency, so I did. They acted like I was a criminal, and confiscated my purse and yelled at me for not bringing all of my medications with me. Then they shut me in a little room for a couple of hours. When someone finally came in to see me, it wasn’t a doctor or a nurse or even a psychologist. It was just a regular staff member. Keep in mind that I had filled out no paperwork, given no information beyond my name, that I was having a severe panic attack, and that I wanted to be admitted as an in-patient for psychiatric care.

Oh, yeah, I had also been asked if I had health care coverage. I did not.

This non-medical staff person told me she was sending me back home because my case wasn’t serious enough. What it really came down to, I learned, was that I didn’t have health insurance.

A year ago, we had just learned that the house we had been buying on contract was never the property of the person who “sold” it to us, and that we were in all likelihood going to lose a large, large, large chunk of money and our home. It was a really dark, terrible time, and I had a series of horrible panic attacks. The climax came one day on my way home from a local food pantry when I was sitting at a stoplight and this thought crossed my mind: “I don’t want to exist. I just don’t want to exist anymore.”

That scared me badly. Since a prolonged NDE [Near Death Experience] as an infant, Death has not been something I would willingly seek or embrace. No, I didn’t have a bad NDE, quite the opposite (sometime, I’ll try to write about that), but it did drive me to grab Life and hang on tight.

So, having a thought like not wanting to exist scared me enough that I drove straight to the nearest hospital, and went to the ER. There, the triage nurse hustled me to a room as a “possible threat of suicide”. Four hours later, no one had come in to see me, barring the registration clerk who’d popped in for paperwork. Nothing like inane questions about medical insurance and assets you don’t possess when you’re in the grip of a horrific panic attack.

I tried going to the nurses’ station for help. I tried flagging a doctor down in the hallway. Finally, I went to a payphone in the lobby and called the hospital operator, and asked to speak to the manager of the Emergency Department.

That person came straight down to the ER, walked back into my room with me, and fetched a nurse. She stayed with me until the doctor came in to talk to me, but said she’d come back and check on me shortly. I really appreciated her efforts then, but things didn’t get any better. The doctor asked me why I was having a panic attack, and I tried to explain in as few words as possible. He kind of stood there, toying with his lower lip and said, “Well, okay, we’ll get you something to calm you down.” I begged to be admitted; I told him I knew I needed serious psychiatric help. When he left the room, I was under the impression that I would be admitted, and I felt so relieved.

Then a nurse came in, gave me some miniscule dose of Adavan, and handed me my discharge papers. I was incredulous. I was standing there, bawling my eyes out, begging to be admitted to their psych ward (which they did have), when the ER manager popped back in. Apprised of the doctor’s decision to discharge me, she patted my shoulder and said, “Well, honey, if you’re not going to have health care coverage, you’d better hope that we elect some people who will make medical insurance available to all Americans in this next election, otherwise, you probably won’t ever get any real help.”

And that was it. I was sent on my way with a “checklist for panic attacks” that included such gems as “don’t forget to breathe” and “avoid stimulants and stressful situations”.

Why it is so hard to get help for mental health problems? Good help? Good medical care, period?

Our Medicaid and food stamps applications are in process now; I’ve finally managed to get nearly everything that they’ve requested back to them, but I have to wonder, given my experiences with mental health care providers to date—even when I did have excellent medical coverage—will it ever matter?

Lianna has RSD from an accident in Jan 2005. She crushed her ankle. For many months she was wheelchair bound.  After her 9th treatment she could stand up; after 55 hours of HBOT she was able to walk and resume house chores.

Suffering from RSD too?
We have tons of successful HBOT case studies on RSD that might answer your question.

Contact us for more infomation now.

Tel.: 604-277-8608 | Toll Free: 1-888-373-0888
Email: enquiry@richmond-hyperbaric.com

RSD

Good Energy (A Singles Collection)

(Punch Drunk; 2009)

Értékelés: 7,3

Sejteni lehetett, hogy ez a válogatás jó lesz. Rob Smith dubban való jártassága kiemelkedő, hiszen már több mint húsz éve tagja a Smith & Mightynak, a More Rockers egyik feleként pedig elég sok jungle zenét írt ahhoz, hogy a kettőből szerzett tapasztalatával összerakjon egy menő dubstep lemezt. Sikerült is neki: a Good Energy egyetlen hibája, hogy túl sok felvétel van rajta, és nem tudja végig egyenletesen tartani a színvonalat, de az első háromnegyedórában olyan lazasággal vonultat fel jobbnál jobb számokat, hogy a vége tulajdonképpen nem is érdekel senkit.

Bőven van mibe beleszeretni: a Forward Youth a címéből adódó fiatalos pimaszsággal lopja el a Leftfield-féle Phat Planet hangzásvilágát, de a továbbiakban is jórészt a kilencvenes évek techno/jungle/dub hangulata uralkodik. A címadó felvétel talán az egyik legaktuálisabb darab, és lehet is rá meditálni rendesen, de hasonló mondható el a Love Of Jah Lightról is, ami tényleg olyan, mintha a dubstepet már feltalálták volna 1995-ben. A mai trendeknek megfelelő fémes, vagy éppen prosztó hangzások nélkülözésével Smith rendkívül kopottá teszi a lemezt, és ugyanolyan profizmussal merít a gyökereiből, mint Jack Dangers tavaly az Autoimmune című Meat Beat Manifesto albumon. A Koto jó eséllyel felfért volna bármelyik downtempo válogatásra a korszakban, a Speeka Box játékosságát meg még King Tubbyék is megirigyelhetik nyugodtan.

Thanks to Richie for sharing this with me. Joker is a 20-year-old kid from Bristol making some insane bass-heavy music that makes me want to go see a live show and destroy my eardrums while standing on the subwoofer, with my ear pressed against the speaker. Yes! Who is this kid? Here’s an old article about him.

MissRuckus (aka: Grandma) to Richie: “You know what would be hilarious? Me going to a dubstep show and being surrounded by all these 20-year-old boys.”

Be nice to the elderly lady with the cane if you see her next to a speaker. Thanks!

I love this track and want to hug a subwoofer:

This one’s on Hyperdub so I know urbansteve approves:

You can download a DJ mix by Joker called Purple Wow Sound here.

And finally, Mary Anne Hobbes featured young Bristol producers on her BBC show almost a year ago.. some of it is seriously mind blowing:

“Mary Anne Hobbs presents Bristol: Rise Up Special – 12 exclusive sets from the city’s incredible community of young producers: with Pinch, Joker, Gemmy, Headhunter, Wedge, Komomazmuk, Peverelist, RSD, Jakes, Appleblim, Gatekeeper with Grilza, Forsaken and Ben Blackmore. Expect a whole array of textures from techno, dub, reggae, acoustic and grime all woven together exquisitely. Bristol has long been a serious contender for the UK capital of cutting edge music. . .”

Get it here. There’s also a really interesting article about Bristol and the music it has spawned here, and a TV thang with Mary Anne Hobbs in Bristol here.

-MissRuckus

Amar’e Stoudemire donated 300 new book bags to the Roosevelt School District.  The National Basketball Association star and member of the Phoenix Suns team visited Martin Luther King Elementary School to personally hand out the bags to the students.  Staples generously provided the school supplies for the Amar’e Advantage Program.  Local Phoenix store managers Jaime Hallaway, Jennifer Caruso, Lance Hyden, and Jason Schlei helped pack the bags full of pencils, erasers, notebooks, markers and many other fun items.  They also delivered the bags to the school cafeteria along with the assistance of Staples District Manager Greg Coates and Staples Executive Administrator Midi Brown.

After the students finished their lunch, Principal Michael Turner welcomed Mr. Stoudemire and several special guests, including Roosevelt Superintendent Mary Beyda.  Arizona State Representative Cloves Campbell, Jr., and Phoenix City Councilman Michael Johnson were present along with 3 members of the Roosevelt School District’s Governing Board:  Betty Thompson, Jimmie Munoz, and Norma Munoz.

Before handing out the book bags, Amar’e spoke to the children about the importance of education.  He explained that “reading, writing, and arithmetic are the keys.  Your future success will be based on how much you practice these skills now.  They are the most important things to learn.”  He also encouraged the kids to become great by working hard, listening to their teachers, and doing better in school.  Mr. Stoudemire concluded his remarks by using himself as an example:  “I am still going to classes and learning new things, even though I play basketball.”

While they were waiting to get their new book bags, many students guessed what was inside.  Some thought there might be basketballs, while others speculated that the bags were filled with glitter.  Upon seeing the children’s excited faces, Mr. Stoudemire commented that he wished he had this kind of opportunity when he was going to elementary school.  “That is the whole reason I give back to the community now, to make things better for these students,” he explained.

After all of the students received their new book bags filled with school supplies, Roosevelt School District Governing Board President Betty Thompson thanked Mr. Stoudemire:  “We are so grateful for your support of public education in our community.”

All 3 of these poems were awarded national “golden keys” by Scholastic magazine and the Alliance for Young Artists and Writers.  During the 2008-9 school year competition only 1,000 out of 140,000 submissions received this distinction.  These students attend C.J. Jorgenson and worked with Mr. Ryan Tritch, their teacher, in the “Unheard” writing club, which also publishes a local literary magazine.

Is It Our Fault?

By Jovanna Figueroa

The roar of the airplanes as they soar,

Technology,

The elegant architecture,

Humans,

Both things great,

But nothing compares to the purity of

Nature.

As I sit here on this beautiful metamorphic rock,

I see the surrounding mountains.

They create a trench

These mountains are powerful warriors,

Where only peace and love are allowed in.

A bee buzzes by gently,

It sits on a rock,

A wisdom filled rock,

With no facials or make-up,

All natural.

I look out,

Trying to find a world with no war,

With no destructive decisions,

A world without hate,

Without jealousy,

Where desire doesn’t overpower,

An Earth without pollution,

Without global warming,

Without humans.

Animals would run freely,

Plants would grow over wildly,

Land would increase secretly,

But our curious Earth would have never known the power of Love!

Here, the sky can’t meet the ground,

A big murky streak blocks their touch,

All our dumb decisions,

Our apathy,

Our lonely hearts desperate to be heard and in need of love.

We are vulnerable to desire,

Our first impulse betrays us,

And we destroy.

Here in Arizona, There in Jalisco

By Carolina Llamas

I felt immersed in shadow, in the darkness

And loneliness. Summoned by everything and

Everyone.  In a war between relaxation,

Time, and joy to myself.  It was like I was working in fields,

The bosses yelling out, ―work, work, work!  Don’t stop!  No time

For chit-chat!  Go!  Go!

But then I woke, saw myself in calm,

Warm sunsets.

Even the birds looked down at the earth,

Forecasting

A cool evening.  A life,

That, like the expressions on one’s face, is ever-

Changing, can be treasured as memories

Unique and valuable.

Just By Anthony Marroquin

The world

Is just.

Just afraid

Just boring

Shoot

Even exciting,

But you get the picture

It’s not how,

But what;

Not what,

But how.

Get the picture?

Don’t be fooled

Take that scarf

Off

Your eyes

And see the world

As it truly is.

Face it with a bear

Chest.

Being from Atlanta, we know better than to question the motives of one Stuart Downs. That being said, the RSD crowd has been a little bit upset about the lack of brackets and seedings thus far in the Club Regionals process, rightfully so, we might add. That being said, Mr. Downs has recently been a little bit upset about the manner in which the RSD crowd has expressed its upsetness.

Now, there’s no point in everyone trying to figure out what’s been going on in everyone else’s corner at this point. What matters is, we have brackets and seedings!

We think the tournament organizers got just about everything right. However, if one were to quickly refer to that same RSD thread that we linked you to earlier, you might find a particularly convincing argument for El Diablo to be seeded in front of GRIT. Against common opponents Diablo’s record is 2-2 while GRIT’s record is 0-2. Not to mention the way that GRIT backed into the second place finish at Texas Sectionals.

However, we have been alive for probably about the same amount of time that Stuart Downs has been tooling fools on the field. For that reason, we bow to his supremacy when it comes to seeding and apart from that the seedings may be more or less perfect. (Aside from FTS’ argument for a higher seed, but once again, we bow to older, wiser minds.)

Now, on to the important things. Games we plan on watching.

Obviously the most interesting games are going to come in the second and third rounds on Saturday in the championship bracket and then again in the first, second and third rounds on Sunday. We plan on making sure that we have full of most of those games, and round by round score updates for the whole tournament. You can attain those by following us on Twitter or taking a glance at the box to the side of your internet window.

We’re still looking for a photographer so don’t be surprised if we walk up to you on Saturday and ask for your pictures or if you want to take pictures for us, shoot us an e-mail. We promise it will be worth your while! (Our lawyer takes this opportunity to point out that we offer no compensation, monetary or otherwise, only our eternal gratitude and completely appropriate affection.)

We look forward to meeting captains that we have traded e-mails with and watching a weekend of Ultimate at one of its highest levels. Check back here for updates and the like!

See you in Atlanta!

17th Annual Rochester School for the Deaf Adventures in Education Program

Welcomes Pioneering Oceanographer David Gallo for “Underwater Astonishments: Living at the Edge of an Unfamiliar World”

David Gallo, Ph.D., an enthusiastic ambassador between the sea and those of us on dry land, will be the special guest presenter at Rochester School for the Deaf (RSD), for the school’s 17th annual Adventures in Education program.

On Thursday October 22, 2009, at 7:00 p.m., in the RSD Auditorium, Dr. Gallo will present “Underwater Astonishments: Living at the Edge of an Unfamiliar World.” As an acclaimed “stand-up scientist,” David Gallo engages audiences with his humorous style and breathtaking imagery. He leads participants on a journey towards a unique understanding of the fragile yet important relationship between humanity and the sea. His fast-paced, multimedia presentation, which is open to the public, will be interpreted in American Sign Language and accessible through real-time captioning display.

Tickets for RSD’s Adventures in Education program are $45 per person. The evening includes a hors d’oeuvres and dessert reception with Dr. Gallo starting at 5:00 p.m. in RSD’s Learning Resource Center, in Westervelt Hall, on the school’s campus located at 1545 St. Paul Street, in the City of Rochester. The community presentation follows at 7:00 p.m. in the RSD Auditorium. A limited number of presentation-only tickets are available at $20/each. Program patron and underwriting opportunities are also available.

To securely purchase tickets online, participate as an event patron or underwriter, or to receive more information, visit: www.RSDeaf.org/Adventures, or call Rochester School for the Deaf at 585-544-1240 (voice/TTY).

As Director of Special Projects at Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution, on Cape Cod in Massachusetts, Dr. Gallo works closely with scientists and engineers at the forefront of global exploration and discovery. He has participated in numerous expeditions to the Atlantic, Pacific and Indian Oceans, and to the Mediterranean Sea. He was one of the first oceanographers to use a combination of manned submersibles and robots to map the undersea world with unprecedented clarity and detail. He was a participant during explorations of RMS Titanic, the German battleship Bismarck, and the WWII submarine USS Grunion. In 1987 Dr. Robert Ballard, a former Adventures in Education presenter and discoverer of RMS Titanic, invited David Gallo to join his team at the Woods Hole as Assistant Director of the Center for Marine Exploration.

While many quality topics and discussions get buried by spam, both of the Toad/MikeG ranting, raving and nonsensical type and of the unexplainable Nike kicks type, there have been some really great conversations as of late.

We take this opportunity to point you towards two.

This one.

This thread stars the spokespeople of the Florida Open Section. Including, but not limited to, Mimmo Alfano and Andrew Roca (assuming Roca Dope is him). This conversation includes highlights such as:

Mimmo: Roca, you ignorant slut.

and

Roca: Mimmo, you pretentious slag.

As someone in the thread already says, “I appreciate your returning rsd to its original and proper purpose, talking shit about other teams, very well done.”

Then there’s this gem.

We don’t know who this person is or what their M.O. is but we find this hilarious.

As Parinella says, this really throws off the RRI but, let’s face it, if someone had to mess with RRI in the process of making fun of every person and everything in the Ultimate world, it’s well worth it.

I have noticed…
that there are a LOT of guys who come into the scene , as total noobs, and they have access to some advanced literature/material , eg. RSD Blueprint,
they read some LR/FR about advanced direct approaches , and they think that having that knowledge makes them advanced PUAs.

You can’t skip the basic steps.
Tyler Durden wrote an article called “The Process – nobody is above it”,
basically, you need to walk the same path that everybody else has.
There are no shortcuts.
Go out and meet girls.
and then do it again. and again… for months and months and years and years…

Maybe there are no ‘advanced’ guys or ‘newbie’ guys,
but there are definitley a lot of guys who are skipping over the basic steps because they think they are beyond them.

This is typical of what you will hear from a guy who believes he is advanced but is actually still really struggling with the basics.

So if you find yourself saying these things or feeling like a newbie… take the pressure of yourself to feel like you have to be advanced, or match it with the big boys. You will get better, just stick to the basics and remove the facade of being part of the pickup intelligentsia.

oh … and go out and talk to some girls… tonight…

peace.

The cut-out section will be two stories tall

Tom always wanted a house with lots of windows that somehow looked like a cabin, you know

Bay Window on North Side of House

something like the A-frames you see at ski resorts yet somehow snug and cozy like the mountaineers’ cabins you stumble across unexpectedly in the hollows of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Throw in a little Ahwanee or Old Faithful Lodge and you get the idea, wood and rustic if the Rockefellers got hold of it.

I always wanted a house that looked like a home, but with enough space so I could somehow leave my 63 ongoing projects out so I could work on each as the inspiration struck. I need 63 projects because I need to keep moving around. I need to keep moving around because I have a bad back and CRPS (Complex Regional Pain Syndrome, also known as RSD, Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy.) I’ll write more on this in a later blog, let’s just say at this point I have it but it doesn’t have me.

Our Salt Lake house is picturesque, well-located, historic, and small with 10 or 12 foot ceilings. You can’t use the dining table because I always have a project in the middle of it and you can’t use the garage because it is full of more projects. My father sold clocks and there are dozens of them in the house and in boxes in the garage. Some day I’ll sell some of them.

Our previous house was enormous, the one I figured I’d live in until I died, on one acre in Richmond, VA, with a wall of windows in the back, two attics and a large, windowed “work room” in the basement. It even had an elevator (tiny lift.) Finicky business that broadcasting is, it shook itself and we had to move on. Sigh.

Anyway, back to the Oklahoma ranch. Since these photos were taken, I’m told the barn has had its siding put on–white with deep red trim–and the rafters are going up on the second floor of the house

Photo taken of the back of the house before second story is added.

Once I get updated photos, or take them myself, I’ll add them to the blog.

The Good Folks of South Mountain/Laveen Villages

This is a series of articles profiling some of the residents who live and work in the South Mountain Village.  In keeping with the original format of the Villager to only print the positive, we will attempt to acknowledge some of the great folks that have contributed so much to our lives and are hopefully role models for all of us.

New Superintendent Inspires Roosevelt Schools to Succeed

Mary Beyda hit the ground running as the Roosevelt School District’s new Interim Superintendent in July.  After only two months in her new position, amazing things are happening.  She formerly served as Roosevelt’s Associate Superintendent of Teaching and Learning.  In that position she was responsible for building a great team, strategically planning how Roosevelt would move forward academically, and practically implementing most of the programs that are now showing great results across the District.

One example of her impact is the $1 million competitive grant for 21rst Century Community Learning Centers, which was recently awarded to Roosevelt.  The grant provides extensive tutoring and academic clubs in reading, writing, math, and science for grades 1 through 3.  It also includes special interest clubs in physical activities, art, music, and dance.  In addition, there is a very strong child – parent – family component.

In another instance, Superintendent Beyda rallied over 1,200 employees at Roosevelt’s Annual Welcome Back Ceremony held in the South Mountain School Auditorium on July 28.  She announced the new AZ Learns labels which are based on the AIMS tests:  Over 95% of the District’s schools earned the label of “performing” and more than 60% were rated in the “performing plus” category.  On average, across all grade levels tested (compared to 2008), for 2009 Roosevelt students scored 9% better in math and 10% better in reading on the AIMS tests.

However, these successful trends are not new for Superintendent Beyda.  She has a solid track record of excellent performance guiding the Alhambra School District as an Assistant Superintendent for 10 years.  Before that she served 10 years as a principal and administrator in the Washington School District.  Beyda’s schools were singled out for national recognition by the First President Bush, and went from the worst in the District to the best after only 2 years.  As a teacher for 10 years, she regularly turned struggling students into lifelong readers.  Superintendent Beyda has also taught graduate level courses to teachers in education content and curriculum development at Northern Arizona University and Arizona State University West.

Mary Beyda has a passion for education.  You might even say it is in her blood.  When she was a child growing up in Arizona, she would play school with her friends and 3 brothers, using the family carport near Grand Avenue to conduct classes.  Her father was a high school and college math instructor, and her mother eventually went back to school and became a teacher, too.  In 8th grade Beyda’s English teacher exposed her to great literature.  ”Reading those books was life changing, and it opened up a whole other world for me,” Superintendent Beyda recalls.  ”I want every one of our students in Roosevelt to have that kind of opportunity,” she notes.

With 3 children and 6 grandchildren, Superintendent Beyda understands that parents expect educators to care as much about the students as they do.  That is why the Roosevelt School District has adopted a new mantra:  Everyone is committed to every student, in every classroom, on every day!  “We should never settle for anything less than giving our very best because education is personal, and every child is important,” says Beyda.

Over the next school year Roosevelt’s Governing Board will be searching for a permanent successor to Superintendent Beyda.  The community will be involved in every step of this process.  Until then, we welcome Beyda’s energy, hard working ethic, enthusiasm for learning, spirit of teamwork, and persistent dedication to student achievement.

Roosevelt Schools Improve Academically

Over 95% of Schools Earn “Performing” Label on Arizona Learns and

60% Are Rated “Performing Plus” by State Department of Education

On July 30^th. 2009, the Roosevelt Elementary School District held its annual welcome back ceremony at the South Mountain High School Auditorium.  Over 700 educators were present for the announcement of the new AZ Learns labels, which are based on the 2009 AIMS tests scored by the Arizona Department of Education.

Over 60% (13 of 21) of Roosevelt’s Schools earned the “performing plus” label while 95% (20 of 21) of the schools are “performing” or higher.  On average across all grade levels tested (compared to 2008), for 2009 the District scored 9% better in math and 10% better in reading on the AIMS tests.  These significant improvements in the core subjects demonstrate the District’s commitment to student success in the classroom.

Superintendent Mary Bedya commented that “we are seeing the results of targeted academic instruction.  I am extremely proud of everyone’s hard work last year.  I expect this trend of academic achievement in the Roosevelt School District to continue into 2010, and I am also excited for the upcoming school year because we have a lot of terrific programs planned for the students.”

For instance, during the 2009-2010 school year, Roosevelt is implementing the Success for All reading program and continuing its Math Matters curriculum with Superintendent’s Clubs at every school.  More than twenty teachers went to Baltimore this summer to receive special training in the Success for All reading program.  In addition, the District will be hosting an Arts Festival and many other interactive events with the community, such as parent lunches.

Even with the tough budget situation, the District is pleased to be bringing on about 70 new teachers this year.  Several of them were trained at the highly regarded Teach For America National Institute hosted by Roosevelt during the last month.  Roosevelt was one of only six national locations selected for this prestigious training opportunity.

During 2009-2010, the Roosevelt School District will pursue academic achievement for every student, professional development for all employees, and fiscal responsibility while developing a culture and climate of communication with the wider community.

The number of Valley homeless children is at an all-time high;

McCarthy’s Education Services team stepped in to help

McCarthy Heart Hats, the community involvement arm of McCarthy Building Companies Inc., led by employees

L to R – Roosevelt School Superintendent Chris Brown; McCarthy Project Director Justin Kelton, Project Director, McCarthy Business Development Manager Tara Malloy and McCarthy Project Director Mark Snider.

from the McCarthy Education Services team in Arizona, recently donated 15 large boxes filled with schools supplies to the Roosevelt Elementary School District’s Homeless Education Program in Phoenix.

As part of its Homeless Education Program, the Roosevelt Elementary School District provides tutoring, uniforms, personal hygiene items, transportation, backpacks and other school supplies to children in need. Last year, the need quadrupled to more than 800 identified homeless children, compared with 180 children the previous year. Donations became even more important and the McCarthy Heart Hats committee stepped in to help collect supplies, which included binders, notebooks, backpacks, pens and pencils, personal hygiene items and snacks, among other items.

“Donations are truly valued as they impact the quality and level of assistance we provide to homeless students.  As a result of donations, Roosevelt School District is able to enhance the efforts and support to students who are homeless so they can fully benefit from their educational experiences,” said Cynthia Bryant, Director of Federal Programs for the Roosevelt Elementary School District. “These donations truly impact our delivery of a very comprehensive homeless program.”

The McCarthy Heart Hats community outreach program is dedicated to ensuring real community needs are being met through hands-on activities and financial support. Last year alone, more than $1 million in financial support, in-kind and hands-on building contributions were made through the program.

“The Homeless Education Program is incredibly valuable in our community and it’s extremely important we help support them,” said Bo Calbert, president of McCarthy’s Southwest region. “We are grateful to all who contributed and feel privileged to be able to donate these much-needed school items, especially in these tough economic times when the need reaches new heights.”

The McCarthy Heart Hats community outreach program is dedicated to encouraging, supporting and recognizing McCarthy employees’ volunteer efforts in a variety of causes where employees work, live and play. McCarthy employees are as passionate about building better communities as they are about construction. The  McCarthy Heart Hats committee hosts an annual fundraising golf tournament and is currently accepting nonprofit grant applications: http://www.mccarthy.com/locations/phoenix/.  McCarthy employees are also encouraged to take part in community outreach individually and through company-sponsored activities, including a company-wide paid volunteer day.

About McCarthy Building Companies

Ranked among the “Best Places to Work” by The Business Journal, McCarthy has helped define the Arizona landscape for more than 30 years. Founded in 1864, McCarthy is one of the oldest and largest privately held construction firms in the nation. McCarthy’s Southwest Region has a divisional office in Las Vegas and operates in Arizona, Nevada, New Mexico and Utah. The company is the nation’s 10th largest domestic general contractor (Engineering News-Record, May 2008). In addition to the firm’s offices in Arizona and Nevada, McCarthy also has offices in Newport Beach, San Diego, Sacramento and San Francisco, Calif.; St. Louis; Dallas; and Atlanta. McCarthy is 100 percent employee owned. For more information, visit www.mccarthy.com.

due nuove ospiti sono entrate in RSD, forse entrambe provvisoriamente, comunque benvenute