Birthdays, Facebook and Canada Post

It was my birthday ten days ago. It was a fine day and as I noted on my Facebook page 

                "Thank you to everyone who posted/emailed "Happy Birthday" yesterday. It was great to hear                 from my friends and family.

              Had a wonderful day yesterday... in the afternoon I went out to see Tom who has a flock of    
              Cotswold sheep (he also teaches a course on sustainable agriculture at Trent University). I helped      
             with the shearing (mainly by staying out of the way), got to pick the best 10 fleeces (not that I     

             know anything about what makes a good fleece - I pick by whatever feels good), argued about    
             politics, heard some stories about the area and got to watch a skilled mother and son combo  
             shear. All in all it was a lovely afternoon with great people who had lots to teach me.
            Came home and had calls from both of my kids."

 It really doesn't get much better than that.


BUT I did not get any birthday cards this year. I can remember, from not that long ago, getting five or six cards every year. Because I live away from my family it was always nice to get something in the mail from them. I would display those brightly coloured folded pieces of cardboard with their special hand written messages on my  stereo. They might stay there for months. I just liked having them around. They were a tangible reminder of people who I cared about and who cared about me. Throughout my book case, tucked in between all of the academic books, are at least the last six or seven years worth of birthday and Christmas cards.

 A month or so ago I was trying to squeeze one more book into the already overcrowded shelves when I came across a bundle of cards from a few years ago. I looked at them, thought about throwing them away and decided that I would hang on to them for awhile longer. If I die before I move again, some poor person is going to have to go through those shelves and before they throw the cards away, will certainly wonder why I kept them. When/if I move - I will look at them one more time, read some of the inscriptions and in all likelihood keep them for no other reason than they make me feel good.

Silly - perhaps. Old fashioned - no doubt.

Facebook was lovely - I got many more birthdays wishes through that medium than I would have ever gotten via snail mail. Much of that is because my nieces and nephews and some of my far flung friends, if they ever knew when my birthday was, would have in all likelihood have forgotten it long ago. I would never have expected to get a card from them. So it was nice to receive a flood of "Happy Birthdays" even if it was because they were automatically reminded by Facebook that it was my birthday.

The cost of cards continues to increase, there are probably real environmental reasons as to why one should not buy cards and the cost of sending mail though Canada Post has reached the point where one really needs to think about whether or not it is worth it or not. So I understand why people don't send cards anymore. I, with the exception of sending cards to a handful of people, don't send cards any more either. But still it saddens me that such a simple, thoughtful and powerful way of reaching out to close friends and family is no longer part of our daily lives. While there are countless reasons why Facebook is a better way of staying in touch - some of the reasons including "it is easy and it is free" - makes the very act of reaching out just that little bit less meaningful.

I understand - I just don't like it.

On The road Again - 2015 - Prologue - Nightmares

I can't remember ever having a nightmare. If I have them - they never wake me up. I do on occasion have a dream that disturbs me and causes me to wake up feeling somewhat disquieted, but nothing that ever causes me to wake up wanting to scream. I never remember then for very long. I do remember some of my other dreams which for the most part are quite glorious. While it happens less and less often as I get older, for years I had a continuing adventure movie screening itself in my sleeping brain. I looked forward to each instalment and to being in an environment where it was fun and exciting.  I was eager to enter this special dream world where there would be horseback riding, sword fights, canoe rides down long and sometimes dangerous rivers, dreams in which no one ever got hurt and where I could be the hero. I am sure Freud could written a new book with all of that - but I don't care - it was fun.

However on the weekend I did have a rather disturbing dream about travelling - something I never have.  In my dream I was somewhere west of Winnipeg. While I didn't quite recognize where I was, I knew that somehow I had gotten off the Trans-Canada and was on a secondary highway. That in itself was a bit weird as I generally am not very adventurous when travelling. I prefer to stay on the main routes. It felt as if I were near the beginning of my trip as I had not yet gotten out my signs for the drivers to see. I was on the side of the road digging through my back, sorting through the signs looking the one that says "Calgary" when I realized that the pack at my feet was not the one that I have used for the last ten years. Instead it was sort of like the small black canvas shoulder bag that I use when I walk to the library. At best it can hold three or four books. I do travel with it but it at best is only a day pack with room for some water, a camera, my tablet  and if I think about it, my cell phone.

As I dug though the small bag I became alarmed as I realized that much of the stuff that I think I need to travel with, was missing. As I dug deeper into the bag, I started to feel this deep sense of panic. I could not find anything. No extra clothes, no food, no bivy sack, nothing! I felt more and more  lost without my possessions. The bag, while it did not contain much other than my sleeping bag and my signs, did have some apparent magical aspects to it because seem to be bottomless but that didn't matter. There was nothing else in it.

As soon as I woke up I knew that it had been only a silly dream and that there was nothing to worry about. I knew exactly where my pack was. I knew in which cupboard I had stored all of my camping and travelling gear. I knew that I would never intentionally leave home without all of the things that ensure that I have a good time and a safe time while traveling. I am far too methodical of a planner for that.

While I am not all that interested in having my dreams analyzed - this one was weirder than most. I can't remember the last time the remembrance of a dream ( and the feelings it germinated) stayed with me for days. I can't remember ever having, after two or three days that sense of dis-quietness (yes I know that that is not a word) sticking with me.

Strange............... I wonder what it means.

Jumping the Queue/Liver Transplants

CORRECTION: As of today (May 19) while there have been many volunteers - a match has not yet been found

Eugene Melnyk will, in all likelihood, get a new liver in the next few weeks. He received the good news just over a week after he went public with his condition. Without any hesitation or any sarcasm in my words or attitude let me say - I think that is great news. Anytime someone has a life threatening medical condition and gets to live longer and healthier life - we should all put that in the win column. The only question is why him and not one of the 700 or so people across Canada waiting for a liver transplant (number is a guestimate based on a 2004 report (NCBI)). Is Mr. Melnyk a particularly charitable individual? Has he done something extraordinary in terms of making the world a better place?  No - his main claim to fame appears to be that he owns a professional hockey team. Within a day of the press release describing his critical condition he started to get offers from complete strangers for a piece of their liver. He was fortunate that a good match was found between him and one of the volunteers. Finding a good match is all about the numbers. The more livers there are to choose from, the more likely it is that that a good match will be found.

If Mt. Melnyk's  condition and the extraordinary response from hockey fans meant that we had turned a corner in Canadians willingness to donate their organs, then I would be delighted. If the public awareness generated by Mr. Melnyk led to many more lives being saved, it would be a win-win situation for everyone. However I think the sad reality is that by next month people will have forgotten this minor celebrity reality show and moved on to something else. The number of people signing a organ donors card (and telling their family) will not increase. It is more than sad that we live in a world where someone with money or a particular claim to fame gets special attention while others equally as deserving get very little attention. From all reports it is not that Mr. Melnyk wanted this attention. In fact it appears that he was reluctant to use his fame to find a liver. One can't blame him for doing all that he could to save his life. But one should be able to blame someone for the fact that there is an inherent unfairness in a system that requires an individual to beg, through the media, for their life. It is even more unfair when those who are popular or pretty or rich have a much better chance of winning.

I have to wonder about the people who indicated that they would be prepared to donate a chunk of their liver. What made them agree to surgery (no matter how safe it is reputed to be - it is still surgery with all of its inherent risks) - to give up part of their body to a complete stranger? Why would they not agree to do that for anyone on the transplant waiting list? Why was giving a piece of an organ to a famous/rich/powerful person so important to them?

I can't help but wonder what it must feel like to be a person, on the liver transplant list, who has been waiting for weeks, perhaps months for the phone call that says "we have got a match and you are next in line" to know that someone has, because of that person's position in society, jumped the queue. I can't imagine the frustration and perhaps the out-right anger that they were not really next in line. If it were me, I suspect that I would spend whatever little energy that I had plotting a way to make myself famous so that I too could get a piece of someone's liver.

Surely in the year 2015 we can do something that prevents needless deaths. Right now in Ontario, if one wants to donate organs after death, one must fill out a form when renewing your health card; but one must also make your instructions clear to your family. Regardless of what is on your Ontario Health Card  or what other forms you have in your purse or wallet - hospitals and doctors always defer to the patient's family. A simple law stating that all organs can be harvested after a person dies unless they indicate that they don't want that, would ensure at least some of the 700 people waiting for a liver transplant and the thousands of others needing other transplants would not have to sit on a waiting list watching other people jump the queue.