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THE TALE SPINNER
IN THIS ISSUE:Vol. XVI, No. 6 Ferbruary 6, 2010 Zvonko Springer continues his story about their first safari Jim Olson writes about two very different nurses' aides Freddie Goodship reports on Geoff's condition Pat Moore sends some hidden hospital costs to be aware of Bill McNair forwards a sad story of an unnerving experience Sites are suggested by Carol Hansen, Catherine Green, Gerrit deLeeuw, Tom Kyle, and Tom Williamson  Zvonko Springer describes the trip to the Serengeti in their FIRST KENYAN SAFARI In the dimming light we drove on towards the lodge when Vesna shouted, “Rhinos! There! See!” I drove the car in that direction but the warden was not too pleased as he knew the animal. “Beware! Do not get too close!” as we approached a mighty rhino with her 1.5-year-old toto, which was also big enough to turn over a VW easily. Ljiljana was taking pictures from some 35m when the vast mama made the first step towards us (rhinos see poorly but smell perfectly.) The warden said, “Get out fast! Drive!” and I started speeding over the open grassy plain as if we were being chased by devil himself. I hurried through grass, avoiding any small hills in it, hoping for no holes in our track. We scared several herds of gazelles, zebras, and hartebeest, making a detour around several buffalos, to stop just when we entered the lodge compound. It was high time as darkness had already set in. During dinner the manager brought the good news that the road into the Serengeti was dry and open for traffic. This was really good news because the driving distance to our next stopover in Seronera Lodge was only about 165km. Two other routes were much longer. One of the choices led back to Narok and Loliondo into Tanzania, which was a 330km drive through almost desert country. The other one was over 400km and would require that we return to the main road near Nakuru, and from Kisii to Musoma on Lake Victoria in Tanzania West. With good luck we could make it, so we started from Keekorok Lodge at 8:30 on Monday, August 30. About some 15km from the lodge we came to the Sand River with its shallow water. It was a risky crossing at low speed between rocks and we climbed the opposite bank at last. I followed a fresh route on an undulating terrain, passing close by several herds of zebra and gnus, some larger groups of various antelopes, and shy warthogs. Fortunately, there was no dust due to recent rains so we reached the River Bolongata that we had to cross in a concrete furrow with shallow water. We had to watch out for buffalos that we noticed crossing the river and continued along a path going up and down, one curve after the other, until we came to Klein’s Camp. Here was the actual entrance to Serengeti National Park in northern Tanganyika. The park fees and rules were somewhat different in Tanzania so we received several stickers for the car and a few pamphlets. The fees were paid per person per day, reminding us that were in a different state and regime. The countryside became flattish and the earthy track was almost straight. We saw few animals on the way. After crossing a dry river bed at Nyabwitagi, we went around a stone-crushing plant and several huts for workers who were busy with road construction work. Now the road was flatter and its surface was of rolled crushed stone, so I could speed up. We passed several settlements like Nyabogati, Ruhoga and Banagi, and arrived at the Seronera Lodge at 12:30. At the entrance I had my first experience with speed bumps that were sometimes so high they scratched the bottom of the VW, despite driving at only 10km/h. Our accommodation was a “rondavel” built in traditional African style with a round wall of concrete blocks plastered with mortar. The roofing elements of a rondavel are poles taken from harvested tree limbs and cut to length. The roof covering was of thatch slates that were attached to the poles with grass ropes. Beneath the thatch there were many cobwebs and a fine mesh fabric hanging for the ceiling, partly covered with bits and pieces of grass. Inside the rondavel there was a large room with three beds with mosquito nets and a separate WC and large wash basin compartment. The floor was concrete, and our expectations sank to a low point. I tried hard to cheer up my girls so we went to get lunch. The cold buffet lifted our spirits a bit, as well as the sunshine brightening the dull ambiance. We bought a park map, but it was inadequate regarding orientation or information about roads or pathways. We were disappointed with the available comfort so our optimism sank a little. The best way out of it was to have a nap and to rest before we went out to cruise around the camp. In retrospect, I believe that our mood has been influenced by the much proclaimed appeal of the Serengeti. Despite many scattered settlements for scientists and rangers, the park remained almost untouched in its nature. A great number of animals lived in this wilderness unmolested, and we were lucky to see almost 80% of its 35 larger species. It was here that we saw all of the “big five” (elephants, rhinos, buffalo, lions, and leopards), as well as all kinds of antelopes (like Topi) and gazelles (like Gerenuks), including Grevy’s zebra and lesser kudu, hyenas and jackals, cheetahs and wild dogs, mongooses, bat-eared foxes, etc. In principle, we could approach close to most of the animals and in some cases with lions, to about 3m. The animals were used to cars moving around and between herds or groups and did not scatter at their approach. The moment we opened a door to get a better position for photographing, the animals would disperse instantly, so we kept to the car as we had been instructed. After a while we had to end our first outing because dark clouds had gathered in the west, a sure indication that heavy rain was coming. I kept to the gravelled road that had drainage ditches on both sides and did not venture onto the black cotton soil of the plain. Of course we had to avoid the Seronera River flowing next to the lodge site. On our way we passed several kopjes, big outcrops of rocks, their surfaces partly worn away by erosion. The term “kopje” is commonly used in East Africa for the rocky outcrops technically known as “inselbergs”. They consist of very old granite rock which, because of erosion and weathering, has broken up into rough and messy protrusions. A kopje stands out against the surrounding plain in the open grasslands all over the Serengeti Plains. The plains had been more or less levelled off by deposits of dust and ash from volcanoes of the Rift. The kopjes have their own range of vegetation and wildlife, which makes them into islands in the predominantly grassy plains. In the open plains, animals find little shelter from the sun or fire and flood. Kopjes often have a thriving cover of shrubs and wild sisal around their base, as well as acacia trees growing nearby that provide shade and protection for wildlife. The obvious dwellers of kopjes are the hyraxes, of which the rock hyrax is the larger and has brown fur. The bush hyrax's fur is grey and they like to climb up the acacias. Both species (the nearest living relative of the elephant) live close together in harmony but in separate holes small enough to keep out leopards, jackals, and lions, which often stay on kopjes to rest and/or for a better lookout. Mongooses also live in the vicinity of kopjes and we liked seeing them taking various postures and actions. There were three different species that were easy to tell apart, although Vesna tried hard to distinguish between the slender, dwarf, and banded mongooses. We got back to the lodge just in time as it had darkened and rain was threatening. To be continued. Jim Olson writes about two aides in the nursing home where he is recuperating: THE ANGEL AND THE WITCH I recently had the misfortune to break some bones in both arms in an icy sidewalk fall. After preliminary hospitalization, I ended up in the rehab section in a local nursing home at the mercy of a mixed bag of nursing home professionals and paraprofessionals who, confronted with a confused, decrepit, ornery, helpless 85-year bundle of aches, pains, anxieties, and broken parts, did their thing to mend and bend the sad piece of humanity in room 126. The most alien time to a nursing home resident is night time, when fears and anxieties thrive; those times when dream- and pain-medication-induced visions and reality often blend for several long disoriented moments before one's mind clears - if it clears at all. It is a time of seeing the world "through a glass darkly." Early on in my stay, night was a difficult time. On the rehab wing of the facility, the night-shift staff consists of one chief nurse and two aides. Patients can call for assistance by pressing a call button, located in my case in a small device pinned to my gown. At that time even finding and pressing that was a chore, with only the few fingers of one hand that I had available to use, and those of limited strength and range. If I had an itch on the tip of my nose, for example, I had to call one of the aides to scratch it. It was under these circumstances that I first became acquainted with the two night aides, the Angel and the Witch. I assigned the title "Angel" to one aide because as I looked out into the dark through the partly-open door into the corridor, I could see her gliding up and down the corridor smoothly and almost effortlessly as she answered calls from various residents, dispensing whatever help was requested. When answering the call light from my room, she glided into the room, listened, and considered each request reasonable, and to the extent possible, provided the assistance requested, including the calls to "scratch my nose, please." The other aide appeared much less ethereal in movement and seldom accepted any request at face value, but would discuss my timing or frequency, or the efficacy of the request, in a less than angelic mode. I didn't think of the "Witch" title until after one noticeable incident. One night my request was to have a stronger laxative because I was suffering stomach cramps from constipation. Angel relayed the request to the head nurse, but the other aide gave me a long dissertation on the need for me to be more patient, and the difficulties of managing my request at a time when they were short on staff, etc. (no need for details). The processing of the request took some time as only a doctor could change medication. Meanwhile, New Year's Eve arrived and somewhat after midnight when I pressed the call button, an apparition suddenly appeared by my bedside, a dark figure wearing a strange hat and with a necklace of small flashing coloured lights. It was the now dubbed "Witch" wearing her New Year's Eve costume. After an initial fright and a return to reality, I decided that she has accepted my request after all and had decided to effect a fright constipation cure, scaring it out of me. In retrospect, I think that was not her intent, and in any case, it didn't work. The Angel's relay of my request did work, however, with a consequent heavier dose of laxative and the problem was resolved in a more normal fashion. But that is another best untold story. CORRESPONDENCE Freddie Goodship writes: Many thanks to all of you for sending your good wishes to Geoff. This morning I took him out in the car for a short while. He got to the car using a walker and wearing his stiff collar. He now has movement in most of his right arm but it is still very weak His shoulder was also injured somewhat so he is not supposed to raise his arm above his head at the moment. He has been eating a small container of yogurt the last couple of days without coughing, so his swallowing must be improving. The sooner we can get rid of the feeding tube the better. The tube is now directly into his stomach and not up his nose and into his stomach. He is having OT every day (learning how to do everyday things like dressing himself), physio twice a day, and speech therapy, which involves swallowing exercises. He is also able to get himself out of bed and into his wheelchair and wander the halls on his floor, and also downstairs in the lobby. We have also gone outside a few times this week. Every day there is some improvement, which is very encouraging. Your good wishes are helping him to get better and he is aiming to be out of the hospital by the end of February, or by mid-March at the latest. We'll just have to wait and see. Pat Moore sends examples that our accident victims should be aware of: HIDDEN HOSPITAL CHARGES I.V. bottle return deposit: $3 Bill preparation and printing: $30 Polysylabbic Obfuscation Redisintermediation: $275 Three-second smirk from specialist: $8000 Bedpan Refrigeration: $48.00 Unspecified Aroma: $83 Upgrade to hourly sponge baths: $197/day Wheelchair Damage Collision Insurance: $39.25 Surgeon's Daughter's Preparatory School Tuition, Wardrobe Surcharge: $2500 Psychologist's fees for nursing staff after you put your gown on backwards and went "visiting": $400 Donation to the Fund to rehire security staff: $3000 Lost forceps: $35.00 Knowing where the surgeon left the forceps: Priceless Bill McNair says the man in this story bears no resemblance to him but he can relate to it: TACO BUENO The kid behind the counter at Taco Bueno said to me, "$5.37." I dug into my pocket and pulled out some lint and two dimes and something that used to be a Jolly Rancher. Having already handed the kid a five-spot, I started to head back out to the truck to grab some change when the kid with the Elmo hairdo said the harshest thing anyone has ever said to me. He said, "It's OK. I'll just give you the senior citizen discount." I turned to see who he was talking to and then heard the sound of change hitting the counter in front of me. "Only $4.68," he said cheerfully. I stood there stupefied. I am 60, not a senior citizen! I took my burrito and walked out to the truck, wondering what was wrong with Elmo. Was he blind? As I sat in the truck, my blood began to boil. Old? Me? I'll show him, I thought. I opened the door and headed back inside. I strode to the counter, and there he was waiting with a smile. Before I could say a word, he held up something and jingled it in front of me, like I could be that easily distracted! What am I now? A toddler? "Dude! Can't get too far without your car keys, eh?" I stared with utter disdain at the keys. I began to rationalize in my mind. "Leaving keys behind hardly makes a man elderly! It could happen to anyone!" I turned and headed back to the truck. I slipped the key into the ignition, but it wouldn't turn. What now? I checked my keys and tried another. Still nothing. That's when I noticed the purple beads hanging from my rear view mirror. I had no purple beads hanging from my rear view mirror. Then, a few other objects came into focus. The car seat in the back seat. Happy Meal toys spread all over the floorboard. A partially-eaten doughnut on the dashboard. Faster than you can say ginkgo bilboa, I flew out of the alien vehicle. Moments later I was speeding out of the parking lot, relieved to finally be leaving this nightmarish stop. That is when I felt it, deep my stomach: hunger! My stomach growled and churned, and I reached to grab my burrito, only it was nowhere to be found. I swung the truck around, gathered my courage, and strode back into the restaurant one final time. There Elmo stood, draped in youth and black nail polish. All I could think was, "What is the world coming to?" All I could say was, "Did I leave my food and drink in here?" At this point I was ready to ask a Boy Scout to help me back to my vehicle, and then go straight home and apply for Social Security benefits. Elmo had no clue. I walked back out to the truck, and suddenly a young lad came up and tugged on my jeans to get my attention. He was holding up a drink and a bag. His mother explained, "I think you left this in my truck by mistake." I took the food and drink from the little boy and sheepishly apologized. She offered these kind words: "It's OK. My grandfather does stuff like this all the time." All of this is to explain how I got a ticket doing 85 in a 40. Yes, I was racing some punk kid in a Toyota Prius. And no, I told the officer, I'm not too old to be driving this fast. As I walked in the front door, my wife met me halfway down the hall. I handed her a bag of cold food and a $300 speeding ticket. I promptly sat in my rocking chair and covered up my legs with a blanky. The good news was I had successfully found my way home. SUGGESTED WEBSITES http://www.snopes.com/computer/internet/fbcharge.asp ~~~~~~~ Catherine Green sends this site for a new slant on how news is presented: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YtGSXMuWMR4 ~~~~~~~ Gerrit deLeeuw writes: This would be so much funnier if it weren't so true! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SfPgSzcu9RY&feature=related (Embedding disabled by request) ~~~~~~~ Tom Kyle writes: Jeanne Robertson is obviously from the south. She is 6 foot 2 inches tall and she tells stories about herself and her husband, whom she refers to as "Left Brain". This video covers her trip to Nanaimo, B.C.: ~~~~~~~ Tom Williamson forwards this URL for a video of opera in a public market: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ds8ryWd5aFw ~~~~~~~ For an update on the upcoming Olympics: http://arunaurl.com/3cjh ~~~~~~~ You may also read this newsletter online at: http://nw-seniors.org/stories.html "Unlike the other animals, people do have a drive to seek coherence and meaning. We have a need to tell ourselves stories that explain it all. We use these stories to supply the metaphysics, without which life seems pointless and empty." - David Brooks, New York Times Edited by Jean Sansum. You can contact her at : Jean |