Thursday, February 18, 2010

Catholic Hospital 5:30 AM

Sitting in the first floor waiting room of St Vincent's CATHOLIC hospital I can't help but feel uncomfortable. Sometimes hospitals are christian-lite, claiming religious names but not stressing it once you are inside. This hospital not so much. It feels like a branch of the Vatican and indeed Mr. Ratzinger is well represented in picture and statue form (I know--there are statues already).

My brother gets surgerized today. His inner ear is broken, the bones that vibrate and transmit the sound to the ... brain I guess, I'm not sure where they sed their info. Anyway today they go in and replace those bones with titanium upgrades, or salvage what is there--they won't know until they get there. I would normally feel uncomfortable about a surgeon saying, "well, we'll take a look and figure it out from there," but the place we are going to, The House Clinic, is literally the best in the world for ear related things. It was founded by Doctor House (:-D) whom my brother met. Anyway, it is connected to the hospital, the catholic hospital.

We are not religious. Well, I should clarify that I consider myself non-religious and Kevin would consider himself anti-religious, but not Atheist. The title 'atheist' is a word that gives far too much credit to God, so much so that it exists to be in opposition to it. That wastes too much thought and energy on a subject unimportant enough to warrant it. I have listened to the proposition that God did it all, read the Bible and checked the evidence and found the claim to be ridiculous. I don't have to keep reminding myself what I think about it. Similar to the idea of racism, you (assuming you are not racist) decide racism is wrong and that is the end of it; you don't need to identify yourself as an anti-racist. "Hi, my name is Jason, and I am an anti-racist."

Anyway, walking into the hospital we passed St Vincent, Jesus and his mom, three crucifixes, two turtle doves, and a mostly nude man and a woman by an old tree. There are posters on the walls expressing Vincent's values of faith, protecting the poor, and generosity--three of the five fundamental pillars of Islam espoused by Mohammad by the way--because thats what St Vincent, and presumably Jesus, would do. Not because it's the right thing to do, but because God would want you to, and would disapprove if you didn't.

I feel a little uncomfortable, (all god all the time) this place looks like a church and not a hospital. I think I feel this way because presumably everyone here expects me to be Catholic, because they talk to me as though I am. It is that presumption that I don't like. Not everyone shares their values, and yet their hospital is a very good one. We are stuck because there seems to be a shortage of good hospitals what want to help people because its the right thing to do. But plenty of Saint-hospitals (Vincent, Mary, etc) that want to help you because their god said so (and blast you with God-love and Catholicism in the process.)

About thirty minutes after we signed in they called us back to make sure we could pay.

I think the lady has been doing this job for awhile because her words were quick and slurred. I know what that's like because I do it too at my work--saying the same things to lots of people everyday. She asked questions quickly and unclearly to my brother, who is here for a surgery that will allow him to hear mind you, and he couldn't make out what she was saying. And every time he asked for clarification she repeated herself. Not slower, not clearer words, just repeated. I had to translate, loudly and clearly for Kevin because he had to know what he was signing and can't hear very well. Also, everyone talks softly so as not to disturb anybody else. There is something ironic here about ear surgery patients being softly spoken to by the staff. Every patient keeps asking for clarification. And the staff doesn't seem to get it.

Then she said, "Do you have any religious observances?" which we both heard very clearly, even through her rushed and hushed mumblings. I can't speak for Kevin, but I didn't know what that question even means, but I do know it involves religion. Kevin spoke almost instantly after she said, 'observances.'

"No. Nothing. None. No religion."

"Oh..." she said, understanding what Kevin meant.

She asked me later about my religious observances as Kev's driver after surgery. I just said no.

She seemed both surprised and uncomfortable about this. Soon thereafter she gave us a square buzzer thing that would alert us to when they were ready for us. Just like the restaurant buzzer thing. Was she rushing to get us out of there?

Religious observances--what does that even mean. If I had said, "yeah, I'm catholic." would they have sent a priest my way to console me during Kevin's surgery? To assure me that God was looking over the surgery? (which is a little silly because God could have just given him proper ear bones and skipped the surgery altogether--isn't there something strange about God looking over a surgery to fix something Kevin was 'designed' with? I'm sure there is a Christian Apologist answer to explain this. There always is.) What if I had said , "I'm Hindu." would that send a Pujaris to explain which of the vedas speaks about this difficult time? That Ganesha will look out for Kevin on this journey to good health and recovery? Maybe it's for if Kevin dies during surgery they know who to send to talk to the family. Does that happen a lot here? Should I be worried?


Buzzer buzzing gtg

Friday, February 12, 2010

Can't sleep

I can't sleep. Do you think maybe if I wrote down what was on my mind it would help?

Sometimes my brain races forward, thinking, turning ideas and concepts in my mind. It does this on its own.

I think a lot, but not when I need to.

I learned new things today, and new things always excite me. Well, new things that are important.

Today I learned about the nature of the universe, how we really have come from nothing and how stars had to die so that I could live.

It made me feel special.

This is important because I normal enjoy feeling insignificant. A young man typing in bed, in the bedroom of a house surrounded by oak trees on a hill by a stream 15 minutes from the coast of California in the northern hemisphere of a blue planet circling a little star in an ocean of stars belonging to a small arm of a spiraling galaxy hurtling through a void surrounded by an ocean of other galaxies forming stringy, purple synapses that look like a net stretched out forever.

I also learned about vestigial genes that can only be explained by evolutionary theory. Things like human yolk sacs devoid of yolk, traits left over from our reptilian ancestry (along with ear bones).

I think the reality is queerer than the fairy tale. And by that I mean being made by some god out of dust isn't as cool as being made out of star bits that supernova'd billions of years ago--which is how it actually happened.

All these things that science has proven, and yet billions of people refuse to acknowledge it. Strange. Obvious reality, empirical evidence supporting a myriad of theories and yet the fairy tale wins out. Luckily fairy tales are on the decline.



It bothers me that I talk about this stuff like I am trying to convince people.

Who am I trying to convince? The pious? You? Me?

Not me certainly, I believe what there is evidence for, which to my dismay does not include dragons.

I am in a position such that...

I am very intelligent. I understand things far better than I am able to express. My family and my friends are also very intelligent. I surround myself with smart people. Outside of that however the rest of the world isn't so smart and often times is downright dense. It's frustrating because what I know and find interesting could/would/has shattered the worlds of other people. (I have unconverted 5 people from their religions. All I did was answer their questions.) But beyond that I would have to build a bridge of understanding to the little island I find interesting and it is taxing, and after years of doing it I have become that guy. The Smart guy. A guy I have always kinda been. It's better than being the dumb guy or the sap or the tool, but I cease to be Brian and become that one guy that knows stuff. People treat that guy and Brian differently.

I started it at first to make friends. They would say, 'tell me something interesting' like I was the court jester ready/willing/able to juggle daggers. I'd say something interesting and they'd get their friends and repeat ad infinitum. It gets old. I don't want to be that guy.

New topic: Loo sent me a picture of her smiling face to my phone. Its one of my favorite pics of her and is now my menu background. I like looking at it. makes me smile. Makes me feel special. 2600 miles away a woman loves me. Maybe she thinks of me and it makes her smile and maybe she captures that smile on her phone and sends it to mine. However it happened I like it and look forward to seeing her.

Brain shut down finally. time for bed, only to wake up in 4 hrs for work.

And that, for those of you who don't know, is bullshit.