Surgery and Hospital – Part Two

I was not really very happy with the inpatient rehab. It felt horribly restrictive, and part of the issue is that sometimes, people don't get that I cannot hear them.

At one point, they attached a "nanny" to the wheelchair I was in. (it clips to the chair, and the back of my shirt) This was not comfortable nor explained.  I demanded it be removed and that they explain WHY it was placed. It was to "make sure I didn't get up when I wasn't supposed to.". Well, no one EXPLAINED THAT to me. Why punish me like a 5 year old because I'm a high functioning deaf person?

Same issue cropped up this morning. I had to buzz a nurse, so someone was with me for everything. going to the bathroom, getting up, etc. I understood that this morning. Except a nurse comes in, follows me to the bathroom, and wraps a belt around me and straps me to the toilet. I was just pissed.

Communication is not very good. I made clear that morning I wanted to discuss my discharge for Saturday morning. First thing in the morning after this.  like 8am.They didn't follow up with it until almost 3:45pm.

So I have one person from the Hospital telling me "you're all set to be released Saturday" (name was Lynn) and another lady (Dr, did not get her name because I was fuming) comes in saying "oh, you aren't set. If you leave early, your insurance will likely not cover anything." I'm thinking "What? That makes no sense. If I leave on Saturday instead of Monday, my insurance saves thousands of dollars. " They're trying to make me stay over money? They backtracked and said "no, it's about care." but they'd already dropped the money bomb first. I was livid, really.

So anyhow, shortly thereafter, the original person ("paperwork and social services for discharge", Lynn) comes back and clarifies what the others were saying: The insurance may not cover 100% either way. There's no guarantee. I could get some big ass bills either way this goes, and if I stay thru Monday.. .it’s just more money gambled (i.e. over $1,000/day and this ain’t no fancy hotel and I won’t get a free jacuzzi suite if I spin 23 red.). She did feel comfortable saying she didn’t think billing would be affected either way, but she couldn’t give me a 100% answer either. She said if I want to go home, then I should.

Long story short, I would be going home Saturday morning, 6 days after surgery,  after my Dad and I goto "Family Therapy", whereby they demonstrate safely supporting me up and down stairs and then we do a few things with my getting up and down the stairs on crutches.

The hospital, until now, has been great. the inpatient rehab wouldn't have done anything on Sunday anyhow...

Compounding all: The person who suggested I try the inpatient rehab clearly told me: You'll be there a few days, and home by weekend. Your insurance is 100% for up to 5 days. THEY SAID THIS TO ME. CLEARLY.They didn’t say “you’ll have to stay there for 5 days, regardless of how you feel.”. No, she told me “a few days, if you feel great, you’ll be home for the weekend” (which was never discussed on this floor at all). If they had told me ‘you’re going to be here for 5 days, and released on Monday” when they ‘sold’ me on this inpatient rehab, I may well have agreed to it, but with a better/more realistic outlook in hand. Instead, I was sold on the “few short days”. I feel great. So that’s what I’m demanding from them. I felt as if I’d been snookered by a salesperson. alas.

Hospital communication is a freaking nightmare. I can't imagine working in this. The nurses upstairs (5th floor) were all wonderful. You could tell they communicated. They passed messages, and followed them. They wrote down that morphine was making me sick, and that I needed some crackers to take the pills. I’m sending them a card and flowers if I can.

Down here on the 3rd floor, it feels like the nurses (some, not all!) are here just for the payday. I feel like they’re annoyed with me, and I’m treated like a liability. That’s the process, maybe not them. Down here, it almost feels like they were going to hold me against my will (even after stating they wanted to make sure I would be safe.. .well... what difference would 2 half days make? Really? they couldn't quantify it). I just don’t feel comfortable. That’s not gonna help me heal.

Anthony and Kyle (PCA’s) are two of the nurses here who’s been fairly cool. Anthony’s a football fan too, and with the draft, I’ve been keeping him updated on the Lions picks. Kyle seems to think I’m pretty funny.

The OT and PT people are fantastic tho, but it was woefully under done for me, I mean, they said “3 hrs a day” but they’re way over coddling.... I would go up some stairs, or lift my leg a few times, then “rest rest rest”. OMG. I’m 40!!! I broke my leg, not my heart.

They DO care, and express it. The OT person (Laura) had no issue with me heading home and even set up delivery of a knee walker and bathtub seat (which delivered at 5pm Friday), and the PT person (Heike) just wants to make sure I can get up and down the stairs safely (which we’ll go over with my dad tomorrow morning around 9am). But the general rules... are not for a 40 year old single guy. I’m more convinced than ever I’ll be just fine having been here. this is designed for 80-90 year olds with broken hips, not a 40 year old, intelligent man with no strength loss. They convinced me in very short time that I’m ready to go home with their rules (which they explained were for liability... if I fell, they’re responsible. Okay, so why didn’t you say that at the get go?!?!? CO-MUN-I-CA-TION. Try it. it works.)

When I come home, I was told that I would have to give myself shots as well. Thursday afternoon (with no real notification, again likely communication failure on their behalf) I was placed on a blood thinner that has to be administered via shots. This was only just explained to me the following day. They planned to demo that Saturday as well before I get released. I'll have to give myself a shot tomorrow in the belly (didn't hurt when they did it). Lynn checked to ensure my insurance covers it, and all is good. I understand that now (because they communicated it) but just not in timely manner.

They ended up NOT sending me home with the belly injctions. Apparently, I move around "too well" to need to injections. why would I have needed the injections? If  I stayed and had to spend every freaking minute of that weekend in an uncomfortable chair doing nothing at all except calling the nurses when i had to take a dump or piss. What a waste of a weekend that would be for all involved. First they want me NOT to leave... but then I'm doing so well, I don't need the shots? I'm disappointed in the communication...

A home nursing visit will be arranged as well (to ensure I'm doing okay). Follow up appointments with Dr. Molli and Dr. Paul are being worked on as well. No more than 2 weeks from surgery date for Dr. Molli, as a ton of staples need be removed (I’m sure THAT will be fun). May 7th, perhaps. (ended up being on May 8th).

I just feel 100% sure I'll be safe at home with my dad, and I want nothing more than to be home. I'm fatigued of the hospital, and dreaming of my mom way too much being in here. With all the issues she had with the hospital. I'm not dreaming about my ankle being broken or anything like that. I KNOW it will be okay, because the hospital MADE me okay. I’m dreaming of running around. That’s telling.

Maybe I'm projecting this wrong to them. It's possible. I just know I'm not happy here and want to go home, and the last I was told, all paperwork, etc for my release tomorrow will be arranged and "if you change your mind, you can stay longer". Meh. No.

Bottom Line: YOUR health care has YOU as the boss, and this boss said “I’m ready to go”. They vaciliated massively with poor communication on the third floor, included baseless threats about money, and then tried sugar coated it. They sold me on a rehab plan with false promises, and I should have just been a smarter boss. I learned. It won’t happen again. The plan they have here is NOT for me over long term. Some rotten apples, but they’re not all in the pie. The hospital HAS done me good. I am utterly amazed that I have very little if any pain right now. Mere discomfort. With what has happened to me, this is miraculous thus far. I slept damn near perfect last night. Extra pillow at my leg, and I was good to go. With all of this, I know the next step in healing is at home.

Surgery and Hospital – Part One

So, let’s talk about the surgery. The big one.

I went in to St. Mary’s about 7am on 4/23 for surgery. Spent only about 20 minutes in the waiting room, then they took me into the back. Settled me into a small waiting area, pretty much by myself. My surgeon comes back, and marks my left leg (so we work on the right one

They asked me to leave my hearing aid on.. except while we were waiting, my hearing aid battery DIED. Alas. But my hearing aid was left on (and didn’t work). They wanted me to hear instructions when I woke up. An anthesiologist comes in the waiting area and says they’re going to do a nerve block on my left leg. He inserts a needle into my left thigh. He explains this is more for AFTER the surgery, so I do not feel a single thing. I’m asked if I want to be awake or not. I stated “I have no desire to be awake for any part of the surgery” so he says they will be knocking me out cold.

Shortly thereafter, I’m taken into the back... my last memory is a room with big lights. I can count 6 people from my memory in the room when they rolled me in. My last memory is a man giving me an injection into the port they put in my wrist, and I read his lips and he said “this may make you a little sleep/dizzy”. Like 20 second later I said something like “oh yeah, that made me a little dizzy, but...”

Next thing I know, I’m in a recovery room. I open my eyes, and feel terrible. The surgery is done. I’m laying there, alone. Wondering where my Dad is, or where anyone is. I see a guy across from me, screaming in pain (but I can’t hear him).

I don’t wait long. Or at least, it doesn’t feel like long. I’m wheeled out. I ask if I’m going home today. They say “no, we’re going to a room.”

My dad appears. We take the elevator up to the 5th floor, where they put me in a room.

Now, the rest of this is growing hazy on me already. I should have written more about this, but I didn’t. The 5th floor was 3 days/3 nights of hell. i was in just incredible pain.

i would have shooting pain, like someone was jabbing a tons of electric needles into my leg and electricuting me repeatedly. My lower leg was entirely NUMB, but I could still feel this pain. I could not move my toes or foot at all. They did not react to my minds command.

With the pain I was feeling, I was worried. I mean, what was this going to feel like if I have a nerve block to PREVENT FEELING PAIN... when that block wore off?

The block wore off at 2am that morning, and I was in incredible pain. I was woken up because my big toe started twitching, and it felt like I was being bashed in the foot with a sledgehammer. A nurse came in, and gave me a shot of something. I have no idea what it was, but I went to sleep again...

I can’t remember who was in the room with  me that day or evening, really. I was given a whole crap load of drugs... I remember being given Morphine (knocked my ass out). I remember being given multiple shots, but having no clue what was given to me.

I could not pee. I could not poop. I would try to pee, but nothing happened. It was terrifying... I

One night, when my girlfriend visited (I think Tuesday night), I had simply had too many pain drugs... and I freaked out. I felt like a total waste of humanity, and a drag on everyone I loved. I felt like the rest of my life, I would be a painful wart that couldn’t be removed properly. I started to cry uncontrollably. I could not stop myself. i was an emotional sprinkler.

They gave me a shot of morphine and a sleep pill. I felt the morphine take effect immediately, and I watched and waved as my Dad and girlfriend left for the evening.

I was then woken up... I felt like I’d been asleep for-freaking-ever. I thought I slept for 24 hours or slipped into a coma. I was bathed in sweat when they woke me... and told me “it’s 10:30”. I’m like, wait, 10:30am? What?” and the nurse said “no, it’s only 10:30pm. You’ve been asleep for a few hours. Do you want an ambien now?”

I said yes. I took the ambien. WHAT A MISTAKE. Even on ambien, I could not fall asleep. I became terribly nauseous and began dry heaving into a bucket. That went on for over 2 hours, then I fell asleep and passed out cold.

I entered a realm of just terrible, awful dreams. I was emotionally blasted already, then ambien just amplified it. The dreams... I dunno. Like the worst shit imaginable. body parts flying, usingbloody severed limbs to play golf with severed cat and dog heads, marching, dead hitler molesting gerbils, the wall, pink floyd, terminators, all my loved ones as corpses, animated by breeze, hanging from trees, bits and pieces falling off... vivid beyond vivid... and total loss of control. I am a natural lucid dreamer. I can control my dreams... but under ambien, I couldn’t control ANYTHING, including my own mind.

When I woke up, I was still seriously nauseous, about 6:30am. I had to reach for a pan, which I started dry heaving into. I started throwing up small bits, but mostly just dry heaving. for the better part of an hour. Then I started to feel better.

I finally stopped, then they served me some breakfast (powdered eggs, sausage, orange juice, flavorless stuff that was supposed to be oatmeal, but tasted like wet newspaper). I ate that... then 30 minutes later, started getting nauseous again. Blew my breakfast out. Continued dry heaving for another hour after that.

Realized it had to be the durgs. My body just doesn't handle these pain drugs well at all. Any pills, anything they give me... I need food in my stomach to handle it. Shots or pills, if you give that to me without food, I'm gonna have a bad day.

Well, sometime later.. a strange nurse with a weird nervous tic starts telling me they want to move me into the in-house rehab. Well, I’d been there for 2 days. Why not? Will it be better? I ask for details. I’m told “you’ll be out by this weekend.” I say “as long as my insurance is on board, it sounds like a good idea.”

Anyhow, I get another repeat day... just sitting in a bed, unable to see the TV well because there’s a huge bar above me (so I can pull myself up). I still can’t pee. Can’t poop... until later that evening. They get me up with a walker, and I’m allowed to jump around a bit. MOvement should help get my bowels moving again...

Okay, this episode gets gross here, but my goal is to honestly capture what I went through. You’re warned right here. if you don’t want to read about this part... SKIP A FEW PARAGRAPHS...

I could not pee. They had to bring in an ultrasound machine to measure how full my bladder was. the first time, they said “you have 600cc’s of urine”. and told me to pee. (note: after the fact, I lookedthis up. The average male bladder holds 350 to 400cc's of urine... I was so screwed up from pain drugs, I could not control my own bladder, and did not notice it until my bladder was distended twice the normal size.) When I could not pee at all by myself, they ordered a catheterization. You asked “what is that?” It means, a nurses uses an iodine based lube on a rubber tube, which is inserted into the penis until it reaches your bladder. Then your bladder empties out like draining gas from the tank with a tube. My girlfriend watched this... and remarked “you’re like a race horse.” They emptied 880 cc’s of urine from me. The next time, 600ccs... the next time... 1100ccs. They did this about 5 times (with an average around 800 cc's) until I was able to pee on the toilet. I was able to get up using a walker, and sit on a toilet, which was natural to me. It allowed me to pee normally again. So part of it was drugs, but part of it was me: I just can't pee unless I'm on the toilet, in the shower, or standing over a toilet. I can barely pee in the woods, man.

All of this frightened me so very much. I mean, my mom joked once “I can’t believe my life is beholden to how much I can pee.” in the hospital. <sigh> I miss my mom so very much.

So, last in the day, I’m told “you’re approved to move to inpatient rehab”. I’m told it will mean I will be getting up, they will be helping me get my bowel movements back, and bladder emptied, and learn how to get around safely. I guessed this was good, but I had no idea when I would be moved.

I got moved about 11:30am that day, and was in a new room by 12. It was a curious move... I’m in a wheel chair, and we’re going down 2 floors. We’re heading to an elevator... when out of the corner of my eye, I see what looks like a guy trip and fall down carrying a large box.

The next thing I know, another guy runs into the elevator and dodges past me (jumping over my precariously healing leg) and then 4 big burly guys run in the elevator and haul him away. I find out post-tense that the guy escaped from the mental ward, and the 4 guys placed themselves between the escapee and us. Whatever was wrong with that guy, he had the decency to jump over me and not hit me. He's lucky. Even in a state of broken leg, had he hit me, i likely would have beaten him to a pulp.

“CRACK”

So... Saturday morning (4/14), I was leaving my house about 10am. I tripped and fell. I'm walking, thinking clearly about "what do I want to do with the rest of my life?" The next thing I know, I hear this tremendous <CRACK> and I'm looking at the sky. The rain drops falling in my eyes.

Immediately, I'm assessing. My ankle already swelling up. I heard a crack. I can't put weight on it. I'm pretty sure I screamed loudly. I look around, there's no one out. I could spend an hour waiting for someone to notice.

I hop down the slope. My garage is already open. I hop into my car, and my leg is screaming at me. Pain like I haven't ever experienced. No doubt in my mind that my leg snapped. I figure I snapped my lower leg, but no idea how bad it is.

I'm driving. Realizing I'm in shock. My hands are shaking, and I keep hearing this roar without realizing it's me screaming in pain. Horrible sound. I pull up to a stop light, screaming because it's just more time.

Where do I go? Gotta go to Providence. I couldn't go to Botsford. God no. No no no no.

I reach another light, and I'm screaming and bouncing in my driver's seat. I look to the side of me, wondering if they hear me or see me. Are they calling the police, saying some crazy raving man is booking down Grand River in Novi?

I reach the hospital. I'm unfamiliar with it. I've never been there. Emergency is on Beck Rd, so I left turn to the emergency entrance... I hope to find something to direct me.

I find nothing. I drive up and there's a sign that says "emergency response vehicles only". Well, I'm in a Nissan Rogue, not an ambulance. I should have called an ambulance, right? I'm going to be here a long time, so... I find a parking spot.

I back in. I'm about 250 feet or more from the entrance. What the hell do I do? What if I broke my other leg hopping there? I get out of the car, fall to the ground. I can feel my foot flapping around.I'm thinking "I did a Sid Vicious. Holy shit!" (for reference, the wrestler, not the singer. Sid jumped off the top rope in a match and snapped his leg clean.)

I start crawling. It's still raining. The parking lot if full of puddles. I start crawling, and screaming HELP! HELP! GOD PLEASE, SOMEONE HELP!

I crawl almost half way. Finally, I see someone. She hears me. She waves at me, and points at the door. I'm not sure what she meant. I keep going, screaming "I NEED HELP!"

I finally see a guard come out, with a wheel chair. They get near me and I say "I'm pretty sure my leg is broken. Please help me."

They took me inside. It's a slow day (lucky me). I get checked in, then triaged. They take me to the back immediately. Within a matter of minutes (I think) I'm put on an x-ray. The x-ray is excurciating. They're telling me to move my foot and I'm like "I told my foot to move, and it doesn't." so I'm contorting to aim my foot the way they want.

I'm wheeled back, and then sometime later, A nurse comes in and says "it's broken". I asked "what's broken?" and she says "all of it. you leg. Multiple pieces."

Meanwhile, I'm trying to get word out. Sending pages, but there's no signal in the hospital. I sent a page to my brother. Unknown what time he received it. Asked him to tell dad.

Sometime later, my dad show up as I'm coming back from a CT scan. I see him and say "I'm sorry, Dad, but your son can't do anything half assed. My leg is busted up bad."

I start explaining everything to my dad in the room, and I'm crying uncontrollably. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! it just broke."

I'll add this in there now: My concept of time was truly warped. Shock, and a pain shot, then vicodin later... I asked what time it was, and it was like 4 hours after my leg broke. It felt like 15 minutes ago.

Chris showed up, an incredulous look on his face. My ankle looks like a freckled softball, and I'm still writhing in shock, shaking and weird. I re-explain it all to Chris. I apologize to Chris for bringing him out like this. He's supposed to be at practice, and picking up Tima later. He's like "oh no, it's nothing... "

I managed to get online via wireless at the hospital, and started posting on Facebook. Just to get my mind elsewhere. Taking pictures. Posting them. They splinted my leg up, and I posted a picture of it stating "Splinted up for splintered leg."

I'm wheeled out in a wheel chair, given crutches, and prescriptions. Told to call a bone doctor on Monday.

Well, we have 3 of us and 3 cars. I can't drive, so... Chris drives my Nissan back to my condo, and me and my dad drive to CVS to pick up prescriptions, then to my condo... Then we drive back to the hospital so Chris can get his car.

We get to my dad's house... how am I getting in the house? I have no experience with crutches. I don't know how to use them.

We managed it, and I'm writing this, sitting in the same way slung back recliner as I plopped into Saturday, April 14... around 5pm. We managed to have dinner (I have no memory of what we ate that night).

Monday, we got an appointment for Tuesday morning... I'm in the Bone Dr's office waiting for about 20 mins. Agony, because there's no where to keep my leg up. I had my leg sitting in my dad's lap for awhile.

We're called back, and I'm on an x-ray machine again within 5 minutes. Agony. Turn your foot this way (it doesn't turn that way anymore).

X-Rays completed, and the Bone Dr comes back. He's like "your leg is broken. We're going to have to do surgery."

No words pulled. He whips out his phone, and has pictures on it. I look at these, and I think "there's no way that's MY leg"... except it was. The pictures were horrible. The bone is split wide open. There were 5 separate pieces of the tibia and fibia in the wrong place.

2 plates, multiple screws. Small incision on right side of ankle. Larger incision on leg side of ankle. Smaller cuts to allow the screws to be inserted. Have to wait a week for all swelling to go down. Gotta keep my leg up above my heart for a week. I asked how long will I be out of work? He tells me "4 to 6 weeks."

"You'll be end up with arthritis in the ankle, but that could be 15 years down the line."

2 weeks in a splint after surgery. Follow up appointment. If all healed well, then I'll be in a cast or walking boot (expecting cast, then boot). 4 to 6 weeks of healing AFTER the surgery.

Well... I had to tell my bosses about this. So, after my appointment, we went to CVS again (new prescriptions... did you know taking Vicodin and other pain pills gives you severe constipation? I didn't, but I do now!) We then headed to the Library...

I skipped to the best of my ability (god, my upper body strength sucks...) into the Library, and sat in a chair, and regaled them with this story... until the pain made me have to get up and leave.

I'm sorry, man. I didn't want this to happen. I'm going to miss a month of work, and I miss it already. Silly, me.

So now I await surgery. I posted something on Facebook, being the clever little twit I am... "My ankle is Humpty Dumpty, and I hope I have better kings men."

Thank you, my friends.

The day before…

Okay, tomorrow my state has the Republican primary... and I have some serious questions to ask, and some insight.... take as you wish.

1. What the flipping hell am I, as a tax payer, paying for the election of the leader of a private club for? That's what the "parties" amount to. If I have to declare as a Republican, or Democrat, to participate... why the hell is MY money being used? I'm Independent, and proud to be (i.e. I'm capable of making up my own mind without the aide of the all powerful hive mind.) It disgusts me that tax dollars are used for primary elections. (CORRECTION: it appears I was incorrect. You do not declare yourself for either party. You simple state "I want a Democratic Ballot" or "I want a Republican ballot". My point on hating the dual party system is still valid

2. More to the point... What exactly are they hoping to prove or determine with primary elections? Independents, or Democrats can't participate so... you're finding out who's the most popular among JUST your friends, and then sending that guy out to the wolves? That makes NO sense at all.

The 2 party system is UNAMERICAN. It treats EVERY SINGLE ONE OF US as part of a hive mind, too stupid to think for ourselves, too stupid to compromise for ourselves, and too stupid to decide. You wanna vote in a primary? Elect which of your friends should be the boss? You do that. That's YOUR problem. I don't feel like paying for it. I'll pay for health care, tho.

Let's also muse upon the way candidates run these days... they tend to tell you, rather rudely, how much their opponents ass sucks canal water. How awful their opponents views on this or that are... and almost never about WHY you should vote for THEM.

I do not care what your opinion of your opponent is. You have too much vested interest in getting yourself elected for your opinion of your opponent to hold any amount of importance or weight. It tells me more about YOU when the only thing you can say is "he's going to rape your children and molest your cat. Then he'll eat your mothers' spleen and BURN your God to the ground!"

It tells me you have no self worth, and you're not worth my vote.

Now... just for shits and giggles...

Evaluation of the Current Crop of Republican Candidates...

Gingrich: No. Really. I don't need to say much else. Too much ego, not enough substance. Even the people who like him get sick of him. The idea of Gingrich with any control over a nuclear arsenal in this age and time... No. No. No. No. NO. You're not a conservative, Newt. You have 3 wives, and an "open" marriage. You're really rather liberal. If you sell yourself as one thing, and you're obviously another... I don't want someone that confused in charge, frankly.

Paul: Do you realize... Ron Paul is older than Ronald Reagan was. I'm not an ageist, but... I didn't buy McCain as president for the same reason, and I won't buy Paul as president. McCain tho... was an absolute moderate compared to the wacky Ron Paul, who inspires naught but rich English majors in college who have nothing better to do but show up at his rallies and belittle everyone else as being nincompoops to Ron Paul's immense perfectness of poltical thought. How CLEVER are his supporters, who go around, shake hands with opposing candidates, and then have a friends behind them holding a sign that says "VOTE RON PAUL!".

Do I believe Ron Paul would reduce the debt? Oh yeah, without doubt. Do I believe Ron Paul would restore civil liberties? Yep, without question. Do I believe Ron Paul would stabilize this country? No, holy God NO. Do I believe Ron Paul would plunge this country into Civil War because he has no concept of the modern world and is running like it's 1946 and his opponents are Dewey and Truman? Oh yes, I do. Sorry, Ron. No.

Romney: Maybe the most moderate and possibly the most electable, but... who can tell, really? He has the consistency of silly putty. He'll echo back everything you give him. He's a flip floppin' echo machine. He'll say what you want to hear, not what he thinks. A man who has hidden everything he really thinks behind a veneer of "electability". This is the same curse that caused McCain to fail against Obama, and until Romney and his advisers wise up... he's on the same path to failure. Romney's biggest mistake yet was trying to claim the bailouts were a failure... IN MICHIGAN. In the face of actual proof that the bail outs were massively successful, in the state of his birth... it's like taking a loaded shotgun, aiming it at your penis, and then looking for a 2 dollar hooker on Main Street. I don't trust you, Mitt. I have no idea who the hell you are. You're a made up billboard of ideas from a top team of thinkers, but we have no idea who the heck you are.

Santorum: Senator Man on Dog is starting for a DEEEEEP hole. He's got that "man on dog" problem, and that "santorum" problem with Google... Go ahead, I dare you look up "santorum" and "frothy". Then he's got the problem that he demonstrates that he has no concept of WHY there's a separation of church and state. Listen folks... if you let someone who believes that the church belongs in government REALLY bring church into government... then you're turning the US into the Muslim States of America. Really. Because Religion has no place in government. Religion is for your SOUL. It's a compact between YOU and YOUR GOD, in whatever fashion you desire (also known as religion). Religion is about YOU and YOUR FAMILY. Jesus has no time or care to build a bridge in Alaska, or patch pot holes in Minnesota. That's what government is for. God has no time to see if your Social Security deductible is proper for your wages. The Holy Ghost doesn't give a shit about making sure FEMA has funs for the next hurricane, or flood in North Dakota. Come on, people. This is simple stuff. A bunch of bigoted slave owners in the 17th century figured it out, and YOU can't understand it? Separation of Church and State is paramount, and I do not believe Santorum understands that, which means I can't vote for you, Ricky.

GROW UP.

Obama: Okay, 3.5 years of "change", and... well, I don't like it. Listen "B"... my home is worthless.Your Making Home Affordable program doesn't actually make my home affordable. It's a scam. Sure, it makes homes affordable... by kicking you out ,and reselling the house as foreclosed. Like a rich folks joke, right? We're trillions in debt, and the Europeans are really unstable (especially the Greeks)... but you've kicked Iraq to the curb, set a timeline on Afghanistan... once we stop spending on those wars, the rest should be easy, right? Just stop playing party politics. Show a SPINE, for God's sake. Health Care for all is a GOOD idea. It will bring manufacturing BACK to the United States, in fact. If all the companies just pay WAGES... and not subsidizing health care, then hey, they make more money, and WE have more money to spend on stuff. That's economic gold there, kiddies.

So, who will I vote for tomorrow?

Nobody. I'm paying for an election I can't vote in because I won't join either party. I think any primary system that requires to declare allegiance is politically, legally, morally and religiously bankrupt.

I said it before, and I'll say it again: Party politics are Un American, and insulting to you; to me; to everybody.

THE DAY OF:

After finding out I did NOT need to declare... I went and voted.

While I think party politics are un American and distasteful... being able to vote is a freedom you cannot deny. At least you get to have a say (even if it's essentially restricted to 2 choices...)

NAIAS 2012

So we managed to attend the first public day of the NAIAS this year. I always look forward to the auto show, but this year, I'm actually car shopping again. I want to spend less on my auto this year, so I was looking at cheaper cars...

My summary of cars I was able to check out follows. (no particular order yet).

Chevrolet Sonic:
I had high hopes for this. It's made in the US. Just up the road a bit on Lake Orion, in fact. However, I was very disappointed.

It looks like a small car. and it FEELS like a small car. The interior felt cheap and crappy. Hard plastic with unpleasing surface. The seat felt flimsy, and cramped.

I will likely not test drive. Poor execution.

Ford Fiesta:
I sat in a sedan model,a nd was not happy. It feels bigger than it looks, but it was CHEAP inside. The hatchback is MUCH MUCH better looking. It's a tad over priced.

Honda CRZ:
Weird, FLAT floor in the driver area.Very low, maybe too low. No back seats. Otherwise, a fine, comfortable cocoon. I liked it. Maybe a wee bit over priced due to the hybird stuff... reminds me of the old Honda CRX's.

Chevy Cruze:
Right on. Real comfortable, and the one I looked at had a snazzy interior I was quite fond of. Black with a red inlay, cloth. Very sharp. Note for Chevy: Y U OVERPRICE YOUR CARS SO MUCH!?!? Whatever makes this Chevy Cruze worth a $2000 premium over an identical Hyundai Elantra or even the Ford Focus??? My family always bought Chevy, GMC, Pontiac, etc. I can't freaking buy them now because they overprice their stuff so much, it's not even worth going to the dealer. Are they pulling Gardner White pricing?

(Story: My mom and I went furniture shopping once. We went into Gardner White. We found a couch we absolutely LOVED. It was PERFECT for my parents house. However, it had no price tag. So a salesman comes over and says "oh, that's a $4,000 sofa. I'll give it yo your for $2,000." Dude... No it's NOT. it's a $900 sofa, and you're trying to make me think it costs $4,000 and you're giving me a deal at twice the real price! We walked out, and never came back. Chevy is doing the same stuff, as if they only want to sell to people STUPID enough to fall for that gimmick. Sorry, Chev. I'm not stupid.)

Ford Focus:
Perhaps the loveliest little car I saw, but I'm being silly. The Focus is as big as a current Fusion. It's large, comfortable and very very sweet inside. I would LOVE to drive this. And I will. But Ford's gotta do something about the price. Slap in an Auto and it adds $1500 to the price? To paraphrase the only funny thing David Spade ever said "are you nucking futs?" I like the hatch better, but the hatch adds another $1750 to the cost... that's odd because...

Hyundai Elantra:
A virtual twin of the Focus, really. Gorgeous lines, comfy interior. Really really liked this. Will test drive. Price is excellent, about $17.5k... which is the price point I'm using for the Focus and Cruze. All three cars are about the same, so why does the Cruze cost SO much more for the same stuff, and the Focus costs   more than the Elantra? It doesn't make sense, and I'm not going to pay an extra 4k because "it's made by Ford/Chevy". The Elantra is made in the US, for the US.

Hyundai Veloster:
I really looked at this for Dan, but this is a sweet ass car with style. It's technically a 4 door, but one is buried on the passenger side and it's a hatchback of sorts. Very nice interior, similar to the Elantra, but with more snazziness to it. A bit more expensive, really. The Veloster seems to act as the hatchback version of the Elantra, and I really like it.

Kia Soul:
Now, I also wanted to see the Nissan Cube, but Nissan had no Cubes. Alas. The Kia Soul is really quite nice. I honestly see no different in size/quality features between the Soul and my current Nissan Rogue. I will test drive the Kia Soul, and I suspect from Internet pricing, it's the front runner.

What else? Well, I checked out the 2013 Ford Fusion (looks good, but I'm trying to figure out if it looks timely enough... will it look dull in a year or 2?), the Maserati Kubang (looks FABULOUS all the way around till you reach the front... which looks like someone lopped a model's nose off and she's bleeding everywhere. Eww.) Nissan Frontier ("small" pickup? yeah, right...), Honda Ridegline (I would LOVE LOVE this. It is cool as hell.) Smart ForTwo (lololololo. Golf cart.) Dodge Dart (very nice looking. Dodge/Chyrsler/Fiat is REALLY betting on this, but it has no real visual piazz to warrant such faith... so it better be spectacular to sit inside, and better yet to drive). Via Falcon. Corvette and Ford Raptor (the first 2 things I will buy when I win the lottery, after the diamond ring for my lady). A bunch of concepts.

Ford had a really fancy display area. Chevy was hugely busy. The concepts by chevy (code S or R) were interesting... one looked like a Camaro mated with an old Neon coupe... which looks better than it sounds like. Overall the show felt bigger and more impressive than recent years, in which the floor had actual ghettos (read: Cheap ass Chinese "imports" like Chery).

Parking was... are you freaking kidding me? We ended up in the Atwater St parking around the Ren Cen and took the People Mover around. Speaking of which, why is it going the wrong way now???

Did I look at the Infintiss, Lincolns, Maybach, etc? No. Whats the point?

We avoided Toyota (screw you, Toyota) and VW (while I like their cars, I dislike the people who like VWs because they're all snooty snobaroonis... which probably says something about me too,alas.)