George Floyd, doctor visit and other stuff…

I wasn’t sure I was going to post tonight. But, in the end – it’s kind of whatever. Maybe if I write about it, then it will leave my head and allow me to not lay awake tonight – again.

A man was killed in Minneapolis last week. He was being detained by police, when the police decided that he was resisting and felt it necessary to lay him face down on the roadway, and a two hundred pound police officer knelt on the man’s neck. The man began gasping for breath – saying he couldn’t breathe – that he was in pain. He was like that for several minutes. Then, he was silent. The officer in question mocked him, said that if he could speak, he could breathe. At one point, there were four cops on top of this man, while he lay in the roadway, with his arms cuffed behind his back.

His name was George Floyd. The police were investigating the fact that Mr. Floyd may, or may not have had, a counterfeit $20 bill. A man died over a piece of paper. When it all boils down to it – that man is dead because of a piece of paper.

Now, several days later, the streets of Minneapolis, Kansas City, NYC, Washington DC are awash in “protests”. Look, I’m an unapologetic Constitutionalist. And I firmly believe in the First Amendment – you have the freedom of speech, the freedom to assemble, the freedom to protest. But, you don’t have the right to burn down an Auto zone or loot a Target. How is burning and looting and making a mess of your own homes going to change anything? Please – stop the violence. George Floyd deserves better. His memory deserves better. His family and friends deserve better. This is not the way to make a change. Stop. Stop the violence. Stop the hate. Start the healing. I beg you – nothing good is going to come out of violent protests (riots!). Please, think before you act. Is what you are about to do going to lift up the memory of George Floyd, or are you making him into something that he would never want, the reason others were hurt.

A little closer to home. The past several days the name on everyone’s lips has been Peter Manfredonia. Who is he? Why did he do what he did? Where is he?

Well, by all accounts Peter Manfredonia is an intelligent man, a senior in college, someone who was a football start in his home town, charitable, and someone who wanted to make a difference in the world. Which is why the past week everyone was stunned to learn his name. He killed an elderly gentleman, attacked another. Committed a home invasion, stole firearms, killed a 23 year old man, kidnapped the victim’s girlfriend, stole cars and was finally found six days later in Maryland.

There were BOLO’s (be on the look out) all week long from CT to NJ/PA and finally Maryland, where he was found at a truck stop. He was taken into custody without incident. He’ll be back in CT soon.

Why am I talking about him? Because something that may not jive with the medical marijuana theme here is firearms. I am a huge supporter of the 2nd Amendment. I believe everyone has the right to bear arms, just not that everyone should exercise that right. Peter Manfredonia shot and killed a 23 year old man with guns he stole in a home invasion. Why does that make a difference? Because Peter Manfredonia grew up just down the street of Adam Lanza. Yes, THAT Adam Lanza. Peter Manfredonia grew up in Sandy Hook. He would have been in his teens when Adam Lanza ambushed the Sandy Hook Elementary School. Again, why is that important?

Because, Peter Manfredonia was/is an ardent supporter of gun control. He raised money, and was a member of a few gun control groups that stemmed from the massacre. Found during the investigation of the crimes he committed, writings on the wall of his dorm room “We saw what happened when Adam snapped. Now they see what happens when I snap.”

Chilling words.

We found out what happened when Peter snapped. He killed two people, injured another, and kidnapped and terrorized a fourth. Put countless lives in danger. Peter’s family have stated that he had mental health problems. But, apparently no one saw this coming. Like Adam Lanza.

Now, I’ve begun to wonder what is in the water on that street? Are there lead pipes? How did this happen? How did so many people miss so many things with both of these young men. It’s scary. It’s made me quite pensive tonight.

I turn 51 today. I don’t know how to feel about that. I really don’t. I feel – I don’t know – it’s just another day – just another number. It’s – well – I guess it doesn’t really feel like anything. I’m going to get out on the bike tomorrow. Go visit a couple of friends (#UBBU(TM)) and bring them their goodie bags. I’m looking forward to that. It’s going to be a warm day. It’ll feel good to be on the bike. Maybe go for a long ride down by the shore or something. Just anything to get out of the house.

Lockdown restrictions are easing up. Although I feel like if these riots continue, there may be more to the riots than just the racial issues. People are getting tired of being cooped up – of not having the freedom to just go to a restaurant and have dinner. To go to a friend’s house and have a cup of coffee. I have a feeling that that is what is fueling some parts of these riots. People have been in lockdown for the better part of three months and we’re tired of it. We need human contact. We need to see more than our four walls. I think I have watched every Law & Order SVU, The Walking Dead, just to mention a couple.

Doctor’s visit. Welp – this one was to my hematologist. Last August, I was at an event for the group I ride with (I’m still a prospect, so I can’t say I am a member). It was an awareness event – where we just put our name and what we do out there. It was a very hot day. I was dehydrated. And unbeknownst to me, at the time, I was extremely iron anemic. I passed out on my bike and hit a truck in the parking lot of the event. I wrenched my shoulder and back – but the biggest problem was the iron anemia. When the ambulance was called, my blood pressure was 70/40, and my heart rate was 140. Yeah – I was tanking and tanking fast.

I spent five days in the hospital. I was in bad shape. My hemoglobin was three/four. It’s supposed to be 12. My red blood cells, what few there were, were half the size they should have been. A few transfusions, some direct line iron and I was out of the hospital. That was when we added a hematologist to my team of doctors. Because we don’t know exactly why I was iron anemic – the best guess is that it is the fact that I am 20 years out from gastric bypass. So, now I see the “vampire doc” every six months.

I’m happy with what we discussed today. My hemoglobin is 12. It’s perfect. My red blood cells are fat and plump and healthy. That’s a huge relief. I was very nervous about my numbers. I was in fear of having to go on iron transfusions. I don’t want to do that – for many reasons. One – the cost. It’s $5000 a pop. It would be at least $60,000 a year. And that’s just plain old crazy.

Well, stress relieved. No transfusions.

Today was my grandson’s birthday. I can’t believe he is five already. He is a pistol. He’s a great little guy. And growing so tall. I swear he is going to be taller than me by the time he turns six. I love him like crazy. I remember the day he was born, I think my daughter in law wanted to kill me when I said “hold out another five hours so we can have the same birthday”. I was only kidding – obviously – but yeah – she wanted me dead. LOL I love her like crazy too. She’s a great girl.

In two weeks, my son leaves for the middle east. I won’t say where exactly. Just that it is the middle east and he is in the military. That’s all I will say. The momma bear in me is not happy about that and wants to go kick some butt so my kid can stay state-side. But, I knew what he was signing up for in 2012. I had hoped that we would have left the middle east by now, but here we are, 19 years after 9/11, still fighting an ideology, not a physical enemy. There is always going to be a terror threat. There is always going to be an ideal out there that does not match ours. How many more people have to die for an ideology?

Okay. I will leave that alone for now. I can’t keep dwelling on this. I’m just thankful that he was still home for his son’s birthday. Originally, he was supposed to go a few months ago, but the quarantine stopped that in its tracks.

None of this actually has much of anything to do with cannabis. It’s just the musings of a middle age woman with purple hair hoping that the world gets to re-open soon. I want to see people’s faces again – not masks. I want to see people going into restaurants and stores and being able to just live their lives. No clue on when I am going to go back to work. All we have are rough guesstimates based on other anecdotal evidence. How they plan on social distancing in a courthouse that sees 300 people a day is going to be interesting, to say the least.

Well, now that I got all this rambling stuff out of my head, I think I will end this post for now. I contemplated leaving it private, but I’m more than just cannabis. I have a lot of facets to myself – some I am still discovering. So – that’s that.

Have a sunny and High Day!