My Response to “How did you come to decide not to…”

Back in the early days of the Holocaust, they sequestered undesirables under the guise of “Public Health.” People don’t read their history, so it seems it is going to repeat itself.

My Response to “New Rules on Vaccine Exemptions Sought”

Salem News’s article, “New Rules on Vaccine Exemptions Sought” https://www.salemnews.com/news/local_news/new-rules-on-vaccine-exemptions-sought/article_302e0362-1e40-56c3-b372-7ca8a0abcfec.html is nothing more than a balm for public consumption.  In no way does it reveal the devastating impact these bills will have if passed into law.  Managing Editor Cheryl Richardson is aware that Industry is marching around the country—and even the world—rewriting our Laws to... Continue Reading →

My Name is ASIA

Doctors are of the human species.  Brave souls who take the risk of making decisions that may pit us against them.  I always keep on mind my brothers and sisters are just as fallible as me.  I’ve seen the frivolity of law drive up costs and drive up the profession’s need to protect itself.  But it’s gone too far. 

Abuso Infantil: Un Paseo por la Memoria

  La mayoría me conoce por mi abordaje de asuntos sociales. Esto puede tomar un peaje. Mucking alrededor con qué está mal con el mundo puede ser horrible. Encontré cosas que no quiero saber. Sí, Ian Weinberg, no hay justicia. Tienes razón, pero eso no significa que me lleve ese hecho acostado. Voy a gritar y gritar... Continue Reading →

Toes

Toes. Whoda thought? Toes can be dangerous. Toes have toenails, and mine are particularly and voraciously strong. As my hands have become more crippled with MS, I have, and will always, fight with my toes. Whodawhoda thought? My cousin pampered me with a visit to a nail salon which included toe care—a pedicure to be... Continue Reading →

Insanity?

  I often feel like the harbinger of doom-and-gloom. There are so many issues that I see as important. Most of them result in death. Some have happy endings. Fiction has been a respite for me. I don’t indulge in it often. It feels like a desert after a burnt roast. It’s hard to immerse... Continue Reading →

There was an Old Woman Named Sarah

I remember Sarah. I find it hard to stay in the now with my writing. Now is weaving down the hall like a drunk—plunking away at the keyboard with two fingers. But I remember Sarah. She was my best friend’s mother. At 84, and living in assisted living, she was a bright spot in my... Continue Reading →

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