Bits & Pieces

Our weather has turned intensely hot. Late yesterday afternoon a high of ninety-eight laughed at me from the shade and begged me to step outside and play. I graciously declined.

My mother in law called and informed me I haven't written a word in several days....guess I've been a baaaaddddd boy. I beg your pardon. Have I mentioned it's hot....

*****

Last Sunday the rain moved into our area. Since outdoor work and play was out of the question I chose to take the afternoon and reorganize our 'get home bags.' Mainly my main medical kit. Since we both have GHB's I keep small and light med kits in each but I have one large medical kit that stays in my truck at all times. I transfer it and my bag to our SUV when we travel.

I've been remiss in my routine maintenance. Get home bags should be inspected seasonally, and medical kits (if you have one) are often overlooked.

 Above, here's a little kit I keep in Sweet Wife's personal GHB. I found the container at a local antique shop and just added the contents. I'm not a big fan of box store prepacked 'first-aid' kits. Save money and build your own.

See the two bottles at the top of the photograph, one contains aspirin, the other Advil. When I checked both were at least six years old. Not good. Dump and refresh.

Above, my main kit.

When opened it unfolds into three units.

Contents of unit three. I checked expiration dates and those expired I replaced with new.

Above, a simple surgical kit. I keep six types of sutures ranging from catgut to silk to a plain roll of sewing thread. To the left of the kit is an Israeli battle dressing. I keep about a dozen on hand.

Since we have a trip planned for the last week of June I also dug into our GHB's and did a bit of reorganizing. I'll give you a rundown in a few days.

Until then, stay safe out there.

Stephen

 

 

Why

If you still have a Facebook page or use Twitter, I must ask, why....

Is it so important to you to bare your soul before the minions as the government sits back and laughs. What price are you willing to pay for your freedom?

Poor George, he tried to warn us.

Think about it.

Stephen

The Storm

Our early tropical storm has passed. She spawned a few tornadoes and in turn they ripped a few out at the Naval Base and towns further north, but we're fine.

My storm, too, has passed. I've tucked it deep and far away, for now, and have chained the door.

Today I plan to read as work allows. It's the quiet moments I like best of all.

Until then.

Stephen

Good Morning

Here's a big hello and welcome to two new followers, SteveierayV and Joe Schmo. Gentlemen, I promise to always reply to your comments.

Please, drop by and say hello. Each have very unique blogs.

*****

Tropical storm Andrea seems determined to wash our area out to sea. I awoke to pounding rain which I'm sure has my old cat in a tissy. I actually used my worn yellow slicker, for the first in many years, for the walk to my truck.

Suffice it to say, I'm still wet, and get this...arrived to work to find my coffee mess absent cream for my morning brew. Long day ahead.

*****

Today marks one year since I've held my Little Bit. One freaking lousy year.

I'd planned to write a longer piece, to her. It isn't possible. I haven't the mindset at this time. I'm sure I'd break down, and the urge for a kill shot is just too great. Maybe tomorrow.





Stephen

Going Home

Stumbled upon this interesting book while browsing around AR15.com. It and book two have been downloaded to my Kindle.


I'm fairly certain I'll like it. 

Think about it. Click here.


Stephen

New Survavilist Magazine

At your local newsstand (if you still have such near you) this August.

Information, here.

For those of you below the age of ten you will probably refer to this magazine as a 'Prepper' magazine  So be it. I'm still old school.

Stephen

Jesus and a Saline Drip

She just wouldn't shut her mouth. Every five seconds it was, "I gots Jesus. You hear me man, I gots Jesus. Bless the Lord, Jesus is coming and I'm his friend and f*ck you anyway you motherless child of God."

Over and over. Loud. She made my head hurt. She was a certified meth-head.

I was in emergency room two. The crazy drugged out woman occupied room three. I was trapped with her for over four hours. Sweet Wife kept me company.

My nice little attending nurse smiled at me and said, "She has issues."  I replied, "You think."

Sweet Wife didn't crack a smile. She was worried; she'd insisted the medics give me a thousand dollar cab ride to the world of horrors. Sweet Wife was also the reason half my chest had been dry shaved for the leads and horrible sticky attachment points, and it was her worry which lead to the saline drip. I explained this to the nurse. Nurse said, "Of course, she loves you." Like that.

I'm fine.

Yesterday, as I mentioned to Rev. Paul, I had yard work, chores, to complete. I dug a few holes, fixed a few sprinkler heads, and then trimmed hedges. Not long after Sweet Wife arrived home from church she joined me in the yard. We enjoyed typical Florida weather, hotter than Hades and very humid. Then, after I dipped to grab a handful of leaves and brush, I darn near fainted. Pain followed. I quietly excused myself and went inside.

The pain increased, then spread its insidious way across the back of my shoulders and down my arms. I took my very first self administered nitro tablet and an aspirin...took a sip of water and tried to dry my sweaty body. Then I said a silent prayer and asked the Lord to take care of my wife. Hey, I'm way of ahead of the game. If it's my time, I'll take the stairway.

She found me in the bathroom, and a few minutes later dialed 911. They gave me the long ride. I hate hospitals.

The woman in room three screamed again, and again.  I turned to the nurse, "I'm fine now, release me." She simply smiled. Sweet Wife gave me, 'The Look.'

The nurse stuck another needle in me and said, "I'm sorry. We can't release you. You must stay until the doctor sees you."

The crazy drug fueled Jesus loving democrat screamed. And screamed. And screamed. I searched my pocket for the little Old Timer knife. Found it. Hey, emergency rooms are dangerous.

Finally the doctor arrived. He was younger than my socks. Said, "Acute renal failure."

I said, "Let me out of here."

The woman screamed, "I gots Jesus oh yes I do. You hear me, bitch, I gots Jesus."

The doctor grimaced, and I'm fairly certain he wanted to suck on his thumb. I jerked a few wires from my chest and began to cut the pulse monitor from my finger. My Old Timer is very sharp.

Sweet Wife and the nurse were not amused.

From room three I heard a yell for security. Jesus had arrived and the crazy lady wanted to ride her meth high to heaven and kick ass. She yelled, "Me and Jesus gonna kick your ass motherf^ucker." I believed her...

They asked me to sign a 'against medical advice release form.' I said, "No." Then, "Well, then, we advise you have a stress test within three days." I glanced at Sweet Wife, sighed, and lied, "Sure."

Like that. Hour later I'm walking to the car.

Like I said, I hate hospitals.

Stephen