Spa Ordeal, Investment Tips, Goat Milk Soap & 47th in the Amanda Saga: Sipping Coffee after Dinner

Good Morning Ted and Jody:

There must be something drastically wrong with my makeup for I do not enjoy the spa treatment one gets when one has a pedicure.  None-the-less if one cannot bend properly one must undergo the torture.  I did yesterday.  There is of course a language barrier since she learned English “on the job” as a second language and I was forced to pick it up with no other language at hand for reference.  Given that, I suspect my screaming and crying has her convinced that I really do just want my toenails trimmed and not too short a that.   So, the next visit she has me scheduled for only a 10 to 15 minute round of torture.

While undergoing the ordeal this morning, I did have a realization that the replacement of human workers by machines should probably go a bit slower in personal service areas.  So, I am going to talk to my money guy about investing in people giving service rather than the tech sector.  But, on reflection, perhaps insurance companies who sell liability insurance to those in the personal service industry.  That led me to thinking about all the jobs we shipped overseas and all the workers we have shipped in to compensate.  I think the flow will not stop as the shipping is not actually occurring, rather, leakage is happening.  So, perhaps investments in plumbing are in order too.  All in all the ordeal of a spa visit was very productive for my next conversation with my money guy.

I ordered some soap from a guy I know who lives in Poland.  It arrived Saturday.  One of the bars was “coffee and cinnamon.”   I ordered that as my friend Juli is, shall we say, addicted to coffee in any form. (OK, she likes the taste and smell).  I gave her the bar on Saturday.  The fellow sent me a note about the soap, made by his wife (is this wife slave labor?) telling me to keep it dry by leaving it in a dish with holes for draining water after use or it will liquefy (I don’t think he know that liquid soap is a big thing here in the States and has been for a long time, so I may import his soap, liquefy it by letting it soak in water and put it in pump bottles to crack the P&G monopoly on soap in America).  He also mentioned the coffee and cinnamon was an exfoliate.  So I passed on the information and tip about keeping the soap dry between uses to Juli who replied: “Thank you for the tip and the soap!!  I used it tonight for the first time.  Definitely exfoliating, and smells edibly delicious.  I love it!”  I personally use the coconut oil soap his wife makes.  I am less prone to say it is “edibly” delicious, but it seems to do a excellent job of cleaning up the mess I make of myself on a daily basis is.  (You probably didn’t know the Kid in the Charlie Brown cartoon who is always walking around in a cloud of dirt {Pig-Pen} was patterned after me.)  Anyway, if you are convinced by my sales job here, you can order if from him directly at: http://winkos.co.uk/english/ where he has a list of “flavors.” (He takes PayPal, so if you don’t have an account I can order it for you, as I have one.) I am going to try the ones made of Goats Milk next.

Yesterday afternoon the sun and clouds cooperated once again for a color display.  The following one is messed with a lot (one of my attempts at almost an abstract–I do love to play with the images) the previous one only changed in size. While there, the beaver or, more probably, otter swam in view.  Ironically, I can almost see his or her fur in the cropped and enlarged shot, but all the other shots I took with him or her facing me are blurry.  I rather suspect he or she was drunk and that is why he or she is out of focus.

I hope this finds you healthy, warm and happy.

It may be getting to be a habit but I am appending the latest (47^th, but who is counting) installment of the Amanda Saga (which is no closer to a title than it ever has been).

Warmest regards, Ed

047 Sipping Coffee after Dinner

Fiction in 1512 words by T. Edward Westen, 2017

 

Sipping their coffee after dinner in the revolving restaurant on St. Lucy’s roof, Dr. Benjamin was explaining to Edith Gunderson and Detective Batan the origin of the revolving restaurant.  “It seems during the Seattle World’s Fair, the then Chairman of St. Lucy’s Board had dinner in the newly opened Space Needle’s revolving restaurant with the builders who then sold him a version for this building.  While we doctors pay full fare; we do get seated immediately if we are in our scrubs or white coats with” lifting his stethoscope off his chest “our badge of office.” He smiled. “They also serve us quickly.  Fortunately, the food service up here is not part of the hospital’s normal fare.  So, as you experienced, it is quite excellent. Unfortunately, we do have to pay.”

 

Detective Batan made a sour face, and said, “Pay, how could they . . . “

 

The Detective’s remarks were interrupted by the clanging of an alarm. Dr., Benjamin pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket and read the text.  “It seems we have lost Special Agent Fleishman.”

 

“Oh my God,” said, Edith, “The poor man was in worse shape than we thought.”

 

Dr. Benjamin shook his head no, “He is missing.  As far as we know he is alive.  He simply wandered off. The bell,” he added pointing the ceiling, “is our way of alerting all the staff that a patient is not where he or she should be.  A patient who needs attention, who needs attention in the worst possible way, is on the loose, so to speak.”  He tapped the face of his cell phone and Special Agent Fleishman’s admission photo appeared.  Dr. Benjamin held the phone up so both Detective Batan and Ms. Gunderson could see it and said “Everyone on the hospital’s staff has his photo and he will be found.”

 

Half under her breath Edith Gunderson said “Wanna bet?”

 

Dr. Benjamin looked at her curiously, “Do you think he made, what did you call it, a pivot on time and space continuum?”

 

Edith Gunderson shrugged her shoulders.  “A few days ago’ I would have thought that was a crazy idea, now, it sounds’ reasonable.”  She looked at the table and asked “How do we pay for dinner?

 

Dr. Benjamin replied, “It was my idea, my treat.  Besides, they will put it on my account.”

 

Edith Gunderson asked “What about a tip?”

 

Dr. Benjamin replied, “We often get called away long before the check arrives, so the tip is included in the billing. They bill me directly and take payment by withholding from my stipend.”

 

Both Edith Gunderson and Detective Batan, put a couple of bank notes on the table when the doctor headed for the exit.  The smiled at each other and quickly followed him.

 

Stepping off the elevator on the third floor,

Dr. Benjamin knew exactly which way to go as there was a throng of people gathered outside the door to one of the imaging rooms.  Most of the nurses, orderlies and technicians moved aside so he and Detective Batan and Ms. Gunderson could get into the room.  The room however, was crowded.  Dr. Benjamin, announced “People we are not going to find the patient standing around in here.  Go out and find him.”  Most of the staff members still shuffled a bit not quite knowing what to do. “Everyone back to you stations.  NOW.” Said Dr. Benjamin at an elevated lever of sound.  “NOW.”  Finally, the room began to empty.

 

“Who was the technician last with the patient?”  Asked Dr. Benjamin.  He looked around with a frown.  “Stephanie Meyer, you were the one who picked him up from the emergency exam room.  Stephanie where are you?”

 

A Registered Nurse pointed to a chair upon which a sobbing Stephanie Meyer sat with her arms wrapped as tightly around herself as she could manage, Stephanie was rocking back and forth.

 

Dr. Benjamin walked over and gently put his hand on Stephanie Meyer’s shoulder. “Stephanie, this is Dr. Benjamin.  I know this is not your fault.  I know you did nothing wrong.  I need you to calm down so you can help me.”  He stoked Stephanie Meyer’s hair with his right hand and pointed with his leftd to a box of tissue and nodded indicating he wanted the box or at least a tissue.  Edith Gunerson picked the box and took it to him.

 

Dr. Benjamin pulled a tissue from the box and still stoking her hair, held the tissue so Stephanie Meyer could see it.  “Here, he said.”

 

Stephane Meyer took the tissue and blew her nose.  Edith gunderson handed her the box and moved a wastebasket so the woman could dispose of the tissue she has just used.

 

“Thank you.” Stephanie Meyerson weakly said.  “Thank you, but how can you know it is not my fault?  I’ll get fired,’ and began to sob again.

 

“I guarantee you will not get fired.”  Said Dr. Benjamin.  “You did the Transcranial Doppler Ultrasound, right?

 

Stephanie Meyer looked up and nodded.  Then she said, “It was all done, but it looked very strange.”

 

Dr. Benjamin nodded, “stranger than you think and that proves you were not responsible.”

 

Stephanie Meyer seemed to be calming down a bit more now.  She said, “Do you want to see it.”

 

Dr. Benjamin said, “Please if it is not too much trouble someone get Stephanie a glass of water while she shows me the film.”

 

Stephanie Meyer asked “Could you make that a diet cola, please?”

 

Edith Gunderson stood up and said, “I’ll go, which way to the nearest machines?

 

While one of the nurses still in the room gave Ms. Gunderson directions to the soda machine, Dr. Benjamin walked Stephanie Meyer to the console where the images were collected and said “All you need to do is put the data on line, Stephanie.  I can take it from there and you can then take the rest of the day off.”

 

Stephanie sat at the console, twisted some knops, make a few key strokes and then asked, “Under his wristband code?”

 

Dr. Benjamin nodded his head and said, “put it on your big screen and I’ll take it from there.”

 

Special Agent Fleishman’s Transcranial Doppler Ultrasound results displayed across a 42-inch diagonal, HD, monitor, about twice standard size.  Stephanie Meyer said, pointing to the display “See, it isn’t normal at all.”

 

“Yes, I see that, Stephanie; remember you can take the rest of the day off.” Said Dr. Benjamin.  “But, I would like to ask you not to discuss this or the missing patient with anyone else until you talk to me first.  OK?”

 

Stephanie Meyer looked a bit subdued and sheepish and said.  “I will do exactly as you say.  You are going to keep them from firing me right.”

 

“Absolutely.”  Said Dr. Benjamin.  He pointed to Detective Batan, Ms. Gunderson who had just returned with a can of diet cola, and the one nurse remaining in the room.  “They are your witnesses to my promise.”

 

As Stephanie Meyer looked at each of ‘her witnesses’ each nodded affirmative, and each said “Yes, we will be your proof of Dr. Benjamin’s promise.”

 

Edith Gunderson handed Stephanie Meyer the can of diet cola as Stephanie left the room.  “Thank you,” Stephanie Meyer said.

 

When Stephanie Meyer had said “See, it isn’t normal at all,” Detective Batan moved to stand behind Dr. Benjamin for a clear view of the Transcranial Doppler Ultrasound results.  As Dr. Benjamin shook his head in disbelief, Detective Batan asked.  “Are those mesh like structures that seem to connect different parts of his brain normal in one of these sonograms?”

Dr. Benjamin, still shaking his head in disbelief said. “No, not normal at all.  Notice the size of the links between mesh structures and the mesh itself is all uniform.  That is strange.”

 

“Strange, how.”  Asked Detective Batan.

 

“For starters, it should not be there at all.” Said Dr. Benjamin.  “Then it is all apparently organic.  So, his implant would not have been impacted by any of the standard methods of imaging.  Then there is the fact that the mesh seems to make direct connections of parts of the brain that are nor normally directly in communication with one another.”  Still shaking his head.  “I think I need some mapping software to figure out what this all does.  But, it looks like an organic implant.  Or an organic structure that was deliberately grown in his brain.  A big implant, but organic.”

 

Edith Gunderson interrupted Dr. Benjamin’s train of thought.  “So, what injuries did the Special Agent suffer?

 

“Oh, minor.  He had a massive concussion given the surface welt and the size of the bump and subsequent bruising, but he inside shows only a small bit of hemorrhaging where the frontal lobe hit the skull, but none on the back.  That is strange, and next to impossible.  It is almost as if his implant kept the brain from bouncing off the back of the cranium.  Very strange.”

 

“Good.”  Said Edith Gunderson. That means he, wherever he is will recuperate”