Willy -welkom; Down-under-Bill; Marge - raging grannies;

[Guest guest]

Welkom, Willy. Waar in hemel's naam is Schepersberg (Brabant?) De

buurvrouw bij Mams in Kruining was ook 'n v.d. Plas, niet dat er geen

duizenden zijn. Onbeschoft van me om zo in het Nederlands te vallen. Ik

wou je alleen zeggen dat als je er niet uitkomt in her Engels, vertaal ik

het wel, ok? Toen ik eens les gaf in Middelburg kon ik toch niet

herinneren wat oxygen was in Nederlands (zuurstof). Hoe staat het leven in

m'n kikkerlandje??

I know, enough already. By the bye, LOL or lol is Dutch for fun, and my

last name in Dutch means knife (here I get 'a lot of mess'), my first name

means truth (from Greek, alethea), and the name is heriditary.

Bill - needs to be stated all the time, no one needs to settle or conform

to what others want of us, whether to live when we don't want to, or to be

otherwise abused, girls and boys both need to learn right from wrong and to

say yes or no when you mean it. Living your life in gray (grey) areas is

confusing and confusion breeds frustration and contempt. We claim this

civilization is freedom oriented. However when someone is sad society

finds it so unacceptable that either they are medicated or kept

cosmetically out of sight, what kind of freedom is that? For two decades

men are told they can cry if they want to, and now that they can be sad

that is unacceptable. Why not stop telling people how to feel, how to

behave acceptably, and accept the person 'as is.' No-one ever puts a

figure on how much seretonin is healthy, only that it is 'out of normal'

(I've been told that but never offered a test to check on it). I'm not

sure what is 'normal.' I can only surmise that I am not 'normal' (and

unapologetic for it). Perhaps the brain knows better what it needs than

doctors do. I'm all for going with the flow. Young people die all the

time, so do old people, we do not have an entitlement to a long lifespan,

we have a life, and if it is not long enough to suit, tough. What a waste

if you spend it trying to please others rather than live yourself. If you

allow yourself to be abused, that is self-abuse. Sadly that is a pattern

started in childhood. With so many poorly equipped parents, the village

should pitch in and raise children to see dignity in themselves, enough to

say no to their abusers.

I worked with HIV infected drug users - most of whom were living on the

streets - conservatively I'm saying 95% (but was higher) of them were

abused as children, and not knowing the difference between abuse and care

continued to self-abuse and more abuse by others. These people are now

additionally abused by a society that 'shuns' them, trying to tear at the

little humanity they hold in their hearts. In those people I nevertheless

saw strength and spirit. Doug or 'shoeshine' died last year of AIDS. He

was 35 or so, he had a 12 year old daughter he was not allowed to see, even

though he was dying. I told him to write letters to her and find someone

to deliver them after he died. When I last saw him he was still writing

her letters. One afternoon during a session, we were outside under a tree,

he weighed less than 120 lbs. his face was gray and his thin skin hung on

his bones. He was smiling and giggling. He told me he was

hallucination. I asked " tell me what you see " , his answer: " There are two

really cute pink fuzzy squirrels playing on your shoulder " . Such a sweet

child-like image from a man whose body had open sores from rat-bites, he

worked nights shining shoes. When I could not afford a present for my

daughter, he arranged for her to get her hair done by a client of his (he

really could shine shoes). None of the social workers and cousellors were

willing to discuss dying and he was happy that this was not a problem for

me. He'd never heard of hospice. Once I gave him information on hospice,

he worked extra hours, saved the money. I don't know where he found the

energy. He became so frail I needed to walk with him to the drugstore to

pick up his meds. He never lost his sense of humour. Our sessions ended

when I was too ill to keep working, a colleague of mine saw him after

that. He did not live much longer. He died in hospice, like a prince, on

clean sheets, no rat bites, at last he had dignity, death on his

terms. Mother Theresa understood what dying with dignity means to the

soul, even the poorest are deserving.

Which brings me to this horror story, Marge will back me up. British

Columbia is denying needed services to its citizens, the elderly the

disabled and the indigent, those who cannot muster a protest, Elderly

people are being evicted from long term care facilities with no place to

go. Long-time married couples are forced to part ways (in their

90's). Families are expected to take them in when they are already

stretched to the limits under a government which taxes to 52% plus sundry

taxes (sales tax, GST, property tax, transport tax, gas tax, sin

tax). Doctors are again threatening to srike, when the patients are

already on extended waiting lists from all the other bed closures and other

employee strikes. Add this to an already shrinking medical professional

numbers (40% of specialist will likely retire, many doctors and nurses

working south of the border). Food supplement, PT and other therapies and

homecare are cut no matter how high the need. We have only 2 opposition

members in the legislature (which officially does not constitute an

opposition). The impact on the upper-middle and upper classes is minimal,

in fact corporations are being given grants, tax cuts and bail-outs. Those

of us on the scrap heap have no friends there.

I wrote to my elected representative (one of the two remaining opposition

members) that we should have and 'adopt a pauper' program, where wealthy

families could adopt the unfortunate. They would never have to see us

(that might be embarrasing for them), but, we could send letters and

photographs to let them know we are grateful. Perhaps Sally Struthers

could donate some time. In return we could become tax deductions, and they

could pat themselves on the back for being great humanitarians. Where I

live the mood is getting ugly and desperate.

One of my fellow students a few years ago (developmental psychology) was a

raging granny, I've not seen her since her sentencing - yes, folks in

Canada you can imprison a dissident. They will do more time than a drug

dealer will. Free country, my ass. Like you Marge I am sooo f*&^$ng

angry. Why is it always the foreigners who get angry about these

injustices? What brought you here, for me it was marriage. By new Dutch

law I've lost citizenship though marrying a foreigner outside the

Netherlands, and I am not formally Canadian - I am really bloody

stuck. Just where would they deport me to?

Anyhoo, I've raged enough.

aletta mes

vancouver, bc Canada

web: http://aletta.0catch.com