The Citizen, 2007-12-13, Page 5THE CITIZEN, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 13, 2007. PAGE 5.
Bonnie
Gropp
TThhee sshhoorrtt ooff iitt
No better teacher
Igrew up in a harsh and unforgiving world.
I remember, for instance, as a tot, running
into my mother’s kitchen, eyes streaming,
mouth screaming “GYAH BAH WAH GAH
GYABAY!”
Which was pre-pubertal English for
“Wahhh! Tommy Farmer threw dirt in my
mouth!”
My mother’s response was stoic. “You’ll eat
a peck of dirt before you die,” she said.
I didn’t even know how much a peck was,
but I sensed it was probably ‘way more
than Tommy Farmer could cram into my
mouth.
Turned out my mom (and Tommy Farmer)
were right. A gobful of dirt wouldn’t do you
any harm. Might even give you some
roughage.
On the other hand, we lived, back in those
days, next to a neighbour, a throwback farmer
who could have stepped right out of the pages
of a Charles Dickens novel.
Never read a newspaper. Never took in a
movie. Never even left overnight the farm he
was born on.
Old Ethan lived by kerosene and
candlelight, distrusting everything that
smacked of the big city or fancy science. One
day his left calf swelled up like a branch off a
grape arbour, all blue-black carbuncles the
size of golf balls.
“It’s no good, Ethan,” I told him, “You’ve
got to let me take you to the hospital.”
“Don’t hold with hospitals,” he said curtly.
Don’t know what he did, but he dosed
himself with some folk remedy and sure
enough, after a few weeks, the ailment
disappeared.
Dumb luck, no doubt. His ignorant,
primitive, antediluvian resistance to the
miracle of modern medicine could well have
cost him his leg – or his life.
Or maybe not.
Lorianne Koch is no throwback prejudiced
rustic. She’s a modern, well-educated urban
wife and mother who lives in downtown
Victoria, B.C., but she still felt like hell when
she woke up after the anesthetic wore off
following a Caesarian section last year. Her
doctors told her it was normal to feel a little
discomfort following the sort of operation
she’d gone through.
She replied that this was no ‘discomfort’ –
she was writhing in agony.
Finally, the doctors decided to ‘go back in’.
Oops. What’s this? Well, I’ll be darned – a
surgical sponge someone overlooked.
Unusual? Not unusual enough, alas.
The Canadian Institute for Health
Information reports that about 200 patients a
year come through surgery only to discover
that something – a sponge, a clamp or some
other instrument – has been ‘forgotten’ inside
them. The Institute reckons that ‘foreign
objects’are left behind in about three of every
10,000 surgeries and that approximately ten
per cent of Canadian patients either contract
an infection or receive improper medication
while in acute-care hospitals.
Hospitals, it turns out, are just about as
dangerous as old Ethan believed they were.
It gets worse. The Institute reports that some
24,000 patients die in Canadian hospitals
every year from what are euphemistically
called ‘in-hospital adverse events”.
Odd, when you think about it. Our doctors,
nurses and medical technicians do their level
best to protect us from infection, but the
places they operate in are magnets for the
very microscopic contagions we seek to
avoid.
We’ve always had a screwy relationship
with infection and disease. The Ancient
Greeks were fanatical bathers, but they
believed hot water was dangerous. They
thought it bred effeminacy and encouraged
disease.
In the Middle Ages on the other hand,
bathing of any kind was considered highly
suspect.
During the Spanish Inquisition, the charge
‘known to bathe’ could get you snuffed.
We still can’t make up our minds about a
simple thing like urine.
“Wash your hands,” we are admonished,
each time we use the facilities. But a host of
humans make a practice of drinking their own
urine every day. Gandhi did it and he lived
until he was 78.
Reminds me of the tale of two Canadian
Armed Forces guys in Afghanistan – a pilot
and a navy captain – standing side by side at
the urinals. The pilot finishes, zips, heads for
the door.
The captain calls out, “In the Navy, they
teach us to wash our hands after we urinate.”
Over his shoulder the pilot says, “In the Air
Force, they teach us not to pee on our hands.”
Arthur
Black
In the eyes of a child there is joy, there is
laughter. There is hope, there is trust,
a chance to shape the future.
For the lessons of life there is no better
teacher,
Than the look in the eyes of a child.
— In the Eyes of A Child by Graham
Russell and Rob Bloom
One of the biggest highlights of our
upcoming holiday issue, at least for me, is the
interview with local Grade 1 students. It isn’t
just their sweet, natural innocence that both
touches and amuses, but their complete
sincerity, their honesty and spontaneity.
Asked a question, they give the answer that
makes sense to them. Unlike adults, when
confronted with a mystery, they don’t over-
analyze. They don’t pause to consider what
reaction the answer might get. They simply
tell it the way it is, at least in their world.
And if you think back, their world wasn’t a
bad place to be.
In Grade 1 life is still fairly kind. Exposure
to the toughness of the school playground is
relatively limited and so many things still hold
magic. It’s okay at six to believe in the
mystical, to believe in fairies and elves.
Monsters too may seem real but, unlike
those in the grownup world, they can usually
be vanquished with a flick of a nightlight
switch.
The confusion that complicates adolescence
has yet to put a spin on everything from
friendships to parents. Instead heroes really do
exist in the form of mom and dad; exciting
adventures are realized with playmates.
And all of these beliefs are there in their
eyes to see. New sights are eagerly absorbed
in wide-eyed gazes. They are interested in
everything, eager to learn more. Everything is
so new to them that it’s still very much
appreciated. You certainly never have to tell a
child to stop and smell the flowers.
In the eyes of a child you see trust, because
blessedly they haven’t yet come to know there
is anything else. Mom and Dad still have the
answers. Little ones don’t just believe that,
they want to.
It’s generally accepted that with maturity
comes wisdom. And vice versa I suppose.
Yet as adults, if we’re honest, we don’t
always remember the lessons we’ve learned
through a lifetime of experience. Life
becomes too fast, too busy. There are
responsibilities and worries. Keeping any
idealism can be difficult in light of the reality
that surrounds us. Even though we know
better, we let ourselves lose sight of what’s
important. We sweat the small stuff, hold our
anger and live with regrets. We stop looking
for the wonder, and fail to find the joy in little
things.
And we take it all far too seriously.
Fortunately, we can be reminded of all of
this by looking into the eyes of a child. They
are a wonderful reminder of what as adults we
have let go. There we see the joy in so many
things and the promise of more to come. Such
perfection, such innocence can only inspire
hope for a brighter future, a belief that no
matter what everything can still be okay.
When you look to the past for life’s long
hidden meaning
For the dreams and the plans made in your
youth.
Does the thrill to achieve match the warm
hidden feeling
That lies so still and lives in you?
Other Views Dishing the real dirt on hygiene
Ontario’s cabinet ministers have been
given clear warning if they get too old,
they will be out of the door.
Premier Dalton McGuinty conveyed this
message when he dropped his oldest minister,
Monte Kwinter, 76, and tried to give his
government a more youthful look by bringing
in new ministers, including five in their 40s.
Kwinter, who had been minister of
Community Safety throughout McGuinty’s
first term as premier starting in 2003, accepted
it quietly, because he is a good party man, not
known to kick up a fuss. But he says he is
disappointed, because he and those he worked
with, including police, fire and emergency
management services, in a ministry that has
taken on more importance since 9/11, thought
he did a good job.
Kwinter asked McGuinty why he was
leaving him out and the premier replied it was
a matter of fairness and he wanted to make
room in his cabinet for others.
When Kwinter asked why he had to be the
one to go, the Liberal premier kept repeating it
was a matter of fairness.
Kwinter said he does not know if he was
dropped because of his age and people will
have to make their own judgments.
McGuinty has appointed Kwinter chair of a
council that tries to increase exports and
attract investment. Kwinter is suited to this
task, because he once ran a company that did
business in many countries, particularly the
little known former Soviet republics, and says
he is excited by the opportunity, but would
prefer to be in cabinet.
Kwinter had held important ministries
throughout the two periods Liberals have been
in power this past half-century, under premier
David Peterson from 1985-90 and later
McGuinty.
He will go down as a supreme example of a
minister who never got in any trouble,
sensible, reliable, well informed, never in
scandals or gaffes and less known than some
ministers, which often is the way when a
minister does a good job.
Despite his links to business, Kwinter was
not a pillar of the establishment. He led the
fight that gained recognition for non-
traditional medicine against the wishes of
many doctors.
He withstood an earlier attempt to push him
out because of age in 1998, when he was 67
and his riding was merged with that of another
Liberal, Annemarie Castrilli, 48, who
suggested he settle down in his easy chair and
leave the new riding to a younger and more
vigorous candidate, herself.
Kwinter had much longer roots in the area
and no difficulty winning the nomination and
the riding in the next election.
Other MPPs have had to shrug off
allegations of being long in the tooth. Jim
Bradley, a longtime Liberal minister and MPP
since 1977, was accused by his Progressive
Conservative opponent in the 2003 election of
having been around too long, but beat off that
challenge.
People often lose some of their faculties
with age, particularly the ability to perform the
same physical work as a younger person.
An integrity commissioner of the
legislature, who had been much admired in
that role and earlier as a senior judge, was
forced to retire quietly at 78 because one case
he handled showed his thinking had become
confused.
But politicians often have been able to do
their work well at advanced years. The
examples include Britain’s Winston Churchill,
prime minister at 81, Nelson Mandela
becoming president of South Africa at 75, and
locally Mississauga mayor Hazel McCallion,
who still has a firm hand on her municipality
at 86.
Older people have the asset of experience,
sometimes called institutional memory.
The Conservatives for example would not
have promised to fund religious schools in the
October election and been crushed by it if they
had had someone around who remembered
when a proposal with similarities was rejected
in an election in 1971.
Some older people also may resent a
premier’s suggestion someone aged 76 is over
the hill and remember it at the next election.
Eric
Dowd
FFrroomm
QQuueeeenn’’ss PPaarrkk
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