Monday, October 26, 2009

Some self created medical cures

A few weeks back, a friend of mine was having a great time with the alcohol. They ended up having too much fun, so they were curious as to how to stop or get rid of a hangover. I told them my self created way of preventing the hangover, and it grossed them out (which can be fun in itself). Over the last couple of weeks I've had some personal issues that required some self created medical cures, so I thought I'd share three of them with you.



First, the hangover. I know this might be hard to imagine, but going through college, I enjoyed an "occasional" beer, or 6. I'm not exactly sure how I figured out my cure, but it absolutely works for me, every single time. Here's the deal. Drink all you want, or all that you can handle. Now, your body will let you know (at least it should) when you've reached maximum intake level. When you reach that point, the first thing you "need" to do is go make yourself barf. No big deal, but you have to do it. I can say that one of the things I learned while in college was to barf on command. What a talent, eh? Anyway, barf it all out. Second, get a big glass of Milk (yes, milk), and down it. Then you down a couple of tylenol. Finally, sleep sleep sleep. I promise you, I never once woke up with a hangover.



The next one is poison oak. Something I learned at an early age is that I can develop poison oak rashes without ever touching the dayam plant. It got to a point where all I needed to happen was for someone to mention poison oak, and I was toast. Now I'm sure everyone knows about the pink goo that you're supposed to layer over your body. Bah!! That stuff is crap. What you need is simple bleach. Yes, bleach. Grab the cotton ball, soak in some bleach, and rub away. Now, obviously, you don't want to pour the bleach on yourself. Just dab at the rash with the cotton ball. Oh, don't let it drip onto your clothes. Funny little white streaks appear. Imagine that. No, it will not turn your skin white. The bleach basically dries out the skin, which in turn, dries out the rash. And of course, try not to breath in the bleach. Blehh. Let the bleach settle for a few minutes, then hit the shower. Get that water as hot as you can possibly stand it, then a little hotter, and let it pound away at the infected area. Itch goes bye-bye for a while, and rash dries up pretty quickly.



Last one is my ever faithful ear infection. I've probably had more ear infections in my life than the combined ages of anyone who reads this. And I'm not joking either. All those midnight trips to the Emergency Room, sitting there for 3 hours, finally get seen by the doctor. After a minute they would look at me and say, "Hey, you have an ear infection." Duh, ya think? Maybe that explains the daggers poking out of my ear drums. It got to a point where I would simply walk into the doctor's office, tell them I had an ear infection, tell them to give me amoxicillin, and I would be on my way. But no, they would insist on looking anyway. Silly docs.

Anyway, I'm rambling...

So, if you'd like to prevent the midnight or weekend trips to the emergency room, so you can wait to see your primary care physician (why can't they just be called "doctors") here's what you do. Lay down, with bad ear pointed to the ceiling. Grab the Hydrogen Peroxide (oh yes, I said hydrogen peroxide). Pour a capful of peroxide in the infected ear. Now, if the ear is truly infected, then you will actually hear something more loud than a bowl of rice crispies (and I'm not talking about the screams you let loose when the peroxide goes in). You will hear the snap-crackle-pop going off in your brains. Now, if you're lucky enough to have someone with you, or lucky enough to be the one watching the person drop the peroxide in, one of you will be able to see the bubbling action going on. From what I understand, it's pretty cool. I wouldn't know, because I'm always the one getting the peroxide dropped in. Now, leave the peroxide in until the bubbling stops, or, if the ear infection is bad enough, the peroxide completely evaporates. Drain the ear, and repeat one more time. Once done, tylenol/aspirin, and try to relax. For you adventurous types, moan and whimper quite a few times, so that you can gain control of the television, or have someone bring you a meal in bed, whatever ya like. I guarantee that after a day or two, the ear will be better, or at least, enough pain will disappear so that you don't have to make those midnight or weekend runs to the emergency rooms.

Now, like anything, there's always an exception. Something that works for me won't necessarily work for someone else. But if you haven't tried these before, give them a shot. Let me know what happens.

Good doctoring to you

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

The joys of my favorite sports teams

Back "a few"years, say, in 1975-1976, I was coming of the age when sports was becoming a little more understandable for me. I was playing Little League, and soccer, and realizing how entertaining it was to watch sports on television. So of course, I had to start choosing my favorite teams. Like so many people who decide that they must have a favorite team, especially when they are new to the sport, or new to following that sport, usually whoever is the best team at that time, is their favorite.

I must say, I fell into that pattern hook, line, and sinker.

Lets start with baseball. It was my first year of baseball, and I was given the "opportunity" to play catcher for the whole season. Part way through, my coach started calling me "Little Johnny Bench". At the time, I was thinking "who the heck is that?" So, I found out that Johnny Bench played for the Cincinnatti Reds. I did some research on him (if you call an 8 year old reading a sports page as research), and thought that it fit pretty nicely. The Reds won the World Series, so, I became a Reds fan.

Next is hockey. Now, growing up in the central valley of California, it's not like that area was a hot-bed for hockey. I don't believe there were any games shown on television (mabye CBS?). So I was left with the newspaper again. My baseball team that I was on was called the Islanders. It just so happened that there was a team from New York called the Islanders. They won the Stanley Cup that year, and my baseball team took first place, so, that was an easy call.

Basketball. My dad was a Golden State Warriors fan, and he got me to listen to the games with him on the radio. He also taught me how to keep score sheets, so there we were, lying on the rug, listening to the games. He took me to a couple of games, Warriors won the championship, and there you have it.

Finally football. Ahh, the Oakland Raiders. They were close by, they had a bunch of gnarly, scary looking dudes. They were viscious on the field. They won the Super Bowl in 1976. Another pretty easy pick.

There's the old saying of "the past is nice, but what have you done for me lately?" Now-adays, it is tough for me to admit who my favorite teams are. Lets take a look...

The Reds. Their last championship was in 1990 I believe. The baseball season starts in April, and for the last two decades, their season has been basically over by the end of May.

The Islanders. They've been bad for so long, they're looking at the possibility now of moving from New York because of lack of fan base. Sigh.

The Warriors. Yeah, they had a nice season two years ago, taking down Dallas in the first round of the playoffs. But their last championship? Scroll up for that answer.

The Raiders. Double sigh. Are they even a professional team anymore? Would someone please tell Al Davis (owner) that it's no longer the 60's and 70's please. I stuck with that team when they moved to (gulp) Los Angeles, and was pretty happy when they moved back to Oakland. Now their home games are usually blacked out in my area because they don't sell enough tickets. They play so horribly, that it's actually painful to watch.

I continue to stick with those teams. They are still my favorites. Yes, I've picked up a few teams that I'd rather watch, like the San Jose Sharks and 49ers (because they are close by). But all in all, my faves are my faves.

I must be a glutton for let-downs.

Joyous.

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Time to drop the puck

Oh yeah!! The best time of the year. The summer heat is starting to fade (mostly). The cool nights are back, and the calendar has switched to October. What a great month.

It's hockey time!!! You can take the Super Bowl. You can take a game 7 of the World Series or the NBA Finals. The Daytona 500 and Indy 500... all yours. I'll take a game #43 of the hockey season over any of those.

Guys bigger than me, flying around the ice, swinging sticks, smashing into other guys bigger than me. A disc of galvanized rubber being smacked towards a goalie at nearly 100 MPH. (Goalie has to be thinking "what the heck am I doing here" every once in a while). And these guys are doing this on ice skates.

Let's not forget, that every once in a while these same guys, on those same ice skates, drop their gloves and let the knuckles fly. What could be better?

What's better, is when all this goes on during the playoffs. Thanks to a good friend of mine, I've been able to attend a few playoff games. You will NEVER find a more exciting sports venue than a hockey playoff game. It is absolutely insane.

Hockey... the only sporting event that I can watch on television without the remote control in my hand. Yes ladies, believe it or not, a guy actually puts the remote control down every once in a while. Even the hockey commercials are worth watching.

If you've never been to a hockey game, please go. If there are no teams close by, try it on television. At first, it will be tough to follow on the telly, but give it a chance. And if you do go to a game, I promise you'll enjoy it.

Bring on the body checks, bring on the power plays. The season starts tonight, and I can finally tell my kids, "Sorry guys, no Disney Channel, Noggin, or Animal Planet tonight. Dad gets control of the TV".

Enjoy folks. I know I will.

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

The humor of the seat belt

Ok, how many of you have done this...

You're driving along, whether it's day or night is irrelevant, but you just aren't in the mood for the seatbelt. It's too hot, too uncomfortable, and you're only just going around the corner anyway.

Suddenly, you see the cop car. Just as if someone had lit a match under your bum, you suddenly start flopping around, dropping your cell phone, putting the coffee cup back in the holder, etc. Finally you find the seatbelt, whip it across, and buckle it in.

I know you've done this. You can't fool me. Heck, I may have even done it before, but I HIGHLY doubt it... cough.

Anyway, have you ever thought about what the cop is thinking at the time?

I'll tell you. For the most part, we are laughing our arses off. We're laughing because it's hilarious watching people trying to look calm and cool while doing it, yet knowing that your heart rate probably just kicked up a few notches. But it's also funny because people think that since they "now" have the seat belt on, there's nothing we can do. Some people even give us that smug little smile as they pass us.

Poor, poor people. "Sign here. Press hard, three copies."

What's even a bit more funny, is after I give them their copy, I'll actually tell them how they "might" be able to avoid it next time.

Here's the secret... If you're driving along without your seatbelt on, and you suddenly see the cop car, "don't" try and put the seatbelt on. We're going to see the sudden movements. Believe it or not, you'll have a better chance if you wait until after you pass the cop car before putting on the seatbelt.

Moral of the story... wear the darn seatbelt. But if you don't want to, that's fine, because I could always use a good laugh.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

If we die in dreams...

"If we die in our dreams, do we die in real life?" Ahh, one of the age old questions dating back to, umm, a while ago I guess. I've known people that believe that you will die if you die in your dreams. I'm not sure how they tested their hypothesis (woo, 25cent word there). Other people have said that you will not die. That's a little easier direction for testing.

The thought makes me think of the Matrix movies. "If we die in here, do we die in real life?" (Or something to that effect). Thanks to Lawrence Fishburne, he tells us that "the mind cannot live without the body". I realize that "the matrix" isn't really a dream (and yes, I get the whole Hollywood movie stuff), but it's still interesting.

Then I think back to the early 80's (late 70's?), of a movie called Dreamscape. At least, I think it was called Dreamscape. Someone better check me on that one... Anyway, it has Dennis Quaid starring in it. It's about being able to "jump" into another person's dream and experience it with them. Good movie by the way. They played around with the idea of killing someone in their dream actually killing the person in real life. Again, the whole Hollywood stuff, but...

Anyway, I'm rambling. (Mwa ha ha). I remember actually having been able to test this whole theory once. There was this one time, in band camp... (oops, wrong area).

No, actually, it was in band camp. I was approaching my senior year in high school, and the marching band went to a resort called Iron Mountain. This was a few months after the movie "Red Dawn" was released. Of course, me and some buddies were really into that movie, and we were big on getting camo'd up, and nuking everything. But there was this one night, I kept having the same dream over and over.

Me and my buddies were the "wolverines", shooting all the bad guys in the mountains. We always eventually got captured. I specifically remember the leader of the bad guys walking up to me, sticking the gun to my head, and pulling the trigger. I remember seeing red, and dropping. At that point I woke up.

Now, I guess some people could say that I woke up "before" I actually died in my dream. But hey, it was my dream, and I can spin it any way I want to ;;stomps foot;;. I was dead meat.

So as far as I am concerned, go crazy in your dreams. That way you can wake up with the thought, "What the heck was that all about?"... and then go back to sleep and try it again.

Monday, September 28, 2009

You called the police for what?

The life of a small town police officer. Working in a department that has fewer members than you have fingers, provides the opportunity to respond to the types of calls that officers in the big cities would never dream of responding to. Sure, we get the occasional "news-worthy" incident, but if COPS were to come here to film an episode, it could easily take a month to get a collection of incidents worthy of national television.

But every once in a while, we get the phone call that makes us forget exactly what type of patch or badge we are wearing on our shirt.

In the small town, during a winter storm, when the power disappears from a house, we get the phone call that states, "Hey, we just lost power to our house." What would the normal response be? Well, I'd usually say something like, "Did you call PG&E?" Inevitably their response to that would be, "No, I don't want to wait on hold. Can't you fix it?"

Then we will get the call that states, "I think my sewer line is leaking/is plugged". I think you know what my question would be. "Did you call public works, or a plumber?" "No, but can you come take care of it?" It's funny, but I don't remember any scenarios from the academy where we demonstrated our ability to fix a power line, or unclog a sewer.

Now, don't get me wrong. I still go. And usually when I get there, I'll look at the situation for a moment, and say, "Yep, you've got a problem here." I'll then make the phone call that is needed. But it just makes me wonder.

But I think the best mind-numbing phone call that was received went something like this. A "be on the lookout" was put out by the county dispatchers for a vehicle with 3 occupants. The vehicle and occupants were wanted for an "assault with a deadly weapon" that had just occurred. So you have several officers from several agencies scrambling to various areas of the county, watching for the wanted vehicle. While I'm in my super-secret-squirrel hiding place, watching the highway, I was advised by my dispatcher that they had just received a 911 call from a resident. This person called 911, because they had a Tarantula outside of their laundry room door. Yes, the big furry spider. Yes, outside the laundry room door. Key word is "outside", as in, outside in the back yard. "Ma'am, you called 911 because a spider is at your door?" Of course, I avoided asking the question, "What does the spider want?"

Now, I'm not particularly a fan of spiders, and I know plenty of people that would rather just turn and run away from them (including an officer in my department, but that's a story for another time). But a phone call to 911. Really?