The next time you hear a politician use the word 'billion' in a casual manner, think about whether you want the politicians' spending YOUR tax money.



A billion is a difficult number to comprehend, but one advertising agency did a good job of putting that figure into some perspective in one of its releases.





A. A billion seconds ago it was 1959.



B. A billion minutes ago Jesus was alive.



C. A billion hours ago our ancestors were living in the Stone Age.



D. A billion days ago no-one walked on the earth on two feet.



E. A billion dollars ago was only 8 hours and 20 minutes, at the rate our government is spending it



While this thought is still fresh in our brain, let's take a look at New Orleans It's amazing what you can learn with some simple division. Louisiana Senator, Mary Landrieu (D), is presently asking the Congress for $250 BILLION to rebuild New Orleans. Interesting number, what does it mean?



A. Well, if you are one of 484,674 residents of New Orleans (every man, woman, child), you each get $516,528.



B. Or, if you have one of the 188,251 homes in New Orleans , your home gets $1,329,787.



C. Or, if you are a family of four, your family gets $2,066,012.



Washington, D.C .. HELLO!!! ... Are all your calculators broken??





Tax his land,

Tax his wage,

Tax his bed in which he lays.

Tax his tractor,

Tax his mule,

Teach him taxes is the rule.

Tax his cow,

Tax his goat,

Tax his pants,

Tax his coat

Tax his ties,

Tax his shirts,

Tax his work,

Tax his dirt.

Tax his tobacco,

Tax his drink,

Tax him if he tries to think.

Tax his booze,

Tax his beers,

If he cries,

Tax his tears.

Tax his bills,

Tax his gas,

Tax his notes,

Tax his cash.

Tax him good and let him know

That after taxes, he has no dough.

If he hollers,

Tax him more,

Tax him until he's good and sore.

Tax his coffin,

Tax his grave,

Tax the sod in which he lays.

Put these words upon his tomb,

'Taxes drove me to my doom!'

And when he's gone,

We won't relax,

We'll still be after the inheritance TAX!!

Accounts Receivable Tax

Building Permit Tax

CDL License Tax

Cigarette Tax

Corporate Income Tax

Dog License Tax

Federal Income Tax

Federal Unemployment Tax (FUTA)

Fishing License Tax

Food License Tax

Fuel Permit Tax

Gasoline Tax

Hunting License Tax

Inheritance Tax

Inventory Tax

IRS Interest Charges (tax on top of tax),

IRS Penalties (tax on top of tax),

Liquor Tax,

Luxury Tax,

Marriage License Tax,

Medicare Tax,

Property Tax,

Real Estate Tax,

Service charge taxes,

Social Security Tax,

Road Usage Tax (Truckers),

Sales Taxes,

Recreational Vehicle Tax,

School Tax,

State Income Tax,

State Unemployment Tax (SUTA),

Telephone Federal Excise Tax,

Telephone Federal Universal Service Fee Tax,

Telephone Federal, State and Local Surcharge Tax,

Telephone Minimum Usage Surcharge Tax,

Telephone Recurring and Non-recurring Charges Tax,

Telephone State and Local Tax,

Telephone Usage Charge Tax,

Utility Tax,

Vehicle License Registration Tax,

Vehicle Sales Tax,

Watercraft Registration Tax,

Well Permit Tax,

Workers Compensation Tax.



STILL THINK THIS IS FUNNY?

scroll down and THINK about this:















Not one of these taxes existed 100 years ago, and our nation was the most prosperous in the world.

We had absolutely no national debt, had the largest middle class in the world, and Mom stayed home to raise the kids.





What happened? Can you spell 'politicians!'

My last visit of the day was a wound care patient in Kensington.

I was hesitating to go because no one was answering the phone. I hopped on 95N and got there in about 15 minutes. No one was home. A man sitting on the stoop next door asked if I was looking for Mrs. M.."Yes", I said. "She is down the street at her sister's house", he said. I got the correct address and headed toward the house. On the front door was a note..."bell broken, door open". I walked in singingly (is that a word) announcing myself. I entered into an inside porch..another door to open as I announced myself. 4 small children..the oldest not even 4 greeted me with big sloppy smiles. My patient was in a hospital bed and her sister, a flustered 78 year old was chasing the dog with a back scratcher. "Am I interrupting"? I said. Margaret laughed and invited me in. I performed wound care, albeit simple and not disgusting at all, while 8 little eyes widened in amazement and watched. The whole time someone or another was being poked with the back scratcher and reprimanded.

Margaret is a 78 year old woman that has temporary custody of these four beautiful great grandchildren because her granddaughter "takes too many drugs". DHS took the kids and gave them to the grandmother. Her daughter, the granddaughter's mother, died last year.

She chased the kids off the furniture with the same back scratcher. I asked her how she did it all. She said..."I am going to the doctor's this week". "Are you sick"? I asked. "No, I have to get some medicine from him to get these kids to sleep more!"
I laughed and wondered if I could borrow some for my own kids.

They looked like kids straight from "Angela's Ashes"...so adorable with fat, chubby faces and wide semi-toothless smiles.

In March the mom will get another chance to keep her kids. The dad is "a bum; he doesn't even have a job".

I finished up and she walked me to the door. "Oh, it is nice out today. I feel like I am in prison in here..I never know what is going on outside", she said. "Why don't you take them to the playground"? I asked. "Maybe another day..that is a lot of work", she said. "It would get them nice and tired", I said. "Maybe I will take them over to the playground and then put them to bed early", she said. We smiled a split second until we heard a crash and she ran inside like a young girl herself.

Thank God for the angels on earth.

I was glad I made the visit.

I am having a hard time forgetting the events of saturday night. I keep thinking about it and reliving it. Today I am going back to work and hopefully the routine of the familiar will help me/us feel better. I really don't want to leave my son's side, though. As you can see I am kind of stalling to go out..even though I can come in and out all day.

Yesterday, the Mummer's strutted down Broad Street for the 107th (I think) Mummer's Day parade. The costumes and rolling sets are fascinating. The different categories compete for prizes. The very traditional celebration is held in high honor and pride in Philadelphia. Tons of people crowded the 4 mile stretch of Broad Street..trying to watch and listen and dance. My oldest son was in the parade this year..he wore a glittering costume and played his saxophone with the band. THAT was exciting and very nice to experience.

My sister had a nice spread of traditional lentils, greens and roast pork..my mom brought home made potato salad and rice pudding. We sat and ate and drank and talked and it was like great Therapy. My sister's friends, my family including my aunt and uncle and my kids and my wonderful, darling niece all helped to keep up the cheer.

Thanks Lorraine.

2008 will be a good year.

Some of the best days this Christmas season were the ones when me and my third son, GC, baked cookies together and made homemade enocchi...afterwards filling ourselves until we were left with minimal breathing room...those potato dumplings are still nestled in my taste bud's mind. We sat complimenting ourselves on our culinary greatness and ate with big smiles on our faces. HE is truly sweeter than sugar.

Last night I watched that same sweet son fight against his restrained arms, his intubated lungs, his catheterized bladder and his accessed veins. I watched a stomach tube drain bloody contents into a suction cannister. I looked at his acne marked face and wondered why he'd drink Bicardi 151 (?name) with his friends until he passed out and his eyes rolled around in his head.

His friends dragged him home and lay him on the porch. He was unconscious and would not respond to painful stimuli, his pupils were fixed and pinpoint. The rescue squad took him to the best Children's hospital in the world. Over 20 people worked on him in the ER like he was the only sick child in the whole hospital. They looked like angels surrounded by bright majestic light, in my bad dream I could not understand or wake up from..they saved him; nurses and doctors more wonderful than I can ever imagine. I tried to thank them. I hope they know what a wonderful way it is that they utilize their time and their minds and their SELVES.

In less than 24 hours, he woke up, the tubes were removed, the I.V.'s out, the monitors disconnected, the neck brace came off and my son and my husband and I walked out of the Intensive Care Unit trying not to look too happy as we passed rooms filled with sick and truly dying children.

My son is lucky, very lucky. And being a nurse, I know how lucky I am, how my husband and I and all of my kids could get on with our lives full and intact and almost unchanged and learn from a very bad mistake. This day from hell will be used to name a few gray hairs and facial lines.

With or without sleep the world goes on. Some families are lucky to have everyone go on with it. And many families are not lucky at all.

Is luck it?

Tonight, I am thanking God and I am praying for the families whose luck runs short. My heart goes out to them.

For anyone who doesn't believe in God, I beg you to reconsider. He was with us.

As my kid's sleep carefully tucked and I breath a sigh of real relief, I will pray for another family to feel lucky too.

I have to make this fast because I am tired and I have to work tomorrow and I think my husband has my side of the bed warmed up.

Another year gone by, and now another resolution. Oh this year, it's the usual: to be more frugal (God help me), to cherish every minute (always accomplished), to get into better shape (umm, half way there), and to enjoy my friends and family (no brainer), and to be more understanding (ut oh).

I will shoot for my blogs to be full of thought but not rantings. I am sick of myself already.

These past months I've been so busy with my new job...patients full of diseases that need tending. And the endless paperwork...that has to get done before blogs because they send me a check every week..it's real nice too, goes right into my checking account.

Patients have my heart. Writing has my heart. I scribble every day like a lunatic..on bits of paper and napkins and gum wrappers. Poems, thoughts, quotes, books I need to read, a movie to see, an email to send, a thought for a blog. My job keeps me focused..like tangible Ritalin. I have a schedule to keep, notes to produce, visits to make...and then

holidays

weekends

books

blogs

and lunch with friends. ....I was warned to mention it. (see Kimmy...I am afraid of you!)

really...it is what keeps me balanced and happy.

I shouldn't complain about the paperwork because the health system I work for pays me to care about people who need caring. How great is that? So a few hand cramps later and I am still grateful.

Back to my hard to keep resolution to be more understanding. ...It seems I can rant and rave a bit, and the more I do it, the better I get at it, and then I do it more....needless to say how right I always am, how clear other's mistakes are to me, I see all the yellow lights flashing..why can't they (hence my reference to being called Lisa...my friend's very smart, responsible sister)(so it was taken as a compliment)....it's hard being the sensible one all the time...

but..
my friend said to me...you know, we (as in everyone) don't want these things to happen to us, we don't plan it or look for problems..they happen, and we can't help it.

I realized she was right. WE all are who we are and are always gonna be..but we have to try to steer away from what we gravitate toward...like me..the ranting, the way what other people do can tie me into a thousand knots..I think if we just realize it, what our craziness is...maybe we can nip it a bit..for our own good.

I know I won't be as much fun but I am done with it..no one is going to bother me anymore! lol

sooo..out to lunch with my long time friends..I found them wonderful and just the way I left them. I thought I'd share a bit.

Rita: no, it's not her sleek hair or flat stomach or long slender fingers...nope. I love when she tells how her daughter is going to Thomas Jefferson. She doesn't say Jeff or Jefferson Or TJ..she says, just like a bursting with pride mother, "Thomas Jefferson"...without a bit of bragging..but her cheeks catch on fire and I think it is adorable ...how a 47 year old mother can turn to mush talking about her 18 year old daughter.

Liz: level headed without anti depressants or alcohol. ...the most practical person I know..because even though she knows she can rant and rave and she has lots to rant about too...she doesn't because she understands EVERYBODY. She is decisive and responsible ..and was the only one who didn't drink at lunch and had an equally wonderful time. Truly admirable.

Kim: last but not least...her soul is open to the world. It wants to grow and it wants to analyze but she must have fun too. A sweet, sweet heart who sees her faults all too clearly...she needs to start seeing her sweetness. Her sister Lisa completes her..sometimes I think they should cut their thumbs and mix their blood together just to get a little bit of the other. Almost like me and my sister..and at one point it even made me cry thinking about it (no big surprise there)...how we are born into who we are..and that is what we have to deal with...so we do.

Some of us are better than others at accepting things. Sometimes that is a good thing and sometimes that can work against us.

It isn't always easy being one of the Lisa's of the world. It's hard. We get flack for it. Thank God for the Kim's and Lorraine's....to keep things balanced and Thank God for the Liz's and the Rita's to keep things real.

Our little get together was a real Christmas treat...I hope we make it a tradition.

and it got me back on the blog.........................................