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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 Letters Policy The Citizen welcomes letters to the editor. Letters must be signed and should include a daytime telephone number for the purpose of verification only. Letters that are not signed will not be printed. Submissions may be edited for length, clarity and content, using fair comment as our guideline. The Citizen reserves the right to refuse any letter on the basis of unfair bias, prejudice or inaccurate information. As well, letters can only be printed as space allows. Please keep your letters brief and concise. Old-timers not welcome in Cabinet