The FIFA Piece of Crap Prize

I don't know much of anything (i.e., nothing) about Maria Corina Machado, other than that she's the leader of Venezuela's democracy movement. And that she beat out Dear Leader for the Nobel Prize. 

What a travesty. 

After all, Dear Leader helped bring about the ceasefire in Gaza that lasted a day or two before Israel got right back into flattening Gaza with weaponry provided by the US. 

And he did broker some sort of ceasefire of the 12-day war between Iran and Israel, the included a bombing foray into Iran by the US. Can you be the president of peace when you've bombed a country? Not quite as if Harry Truman had gotten the Nobel Peace Prize after Hiroshima and Nagasaki, but still...

Pakistan went full suckup grateful nation and nominated Dear Leader for the Peace Prize after the US played a mediator role in ending a brief war between Pakistan and India. But India said he had nothing to do with it. Gee, why would Pakistan lie  just to get into Trump's good graces?

And there were all those other wars, or non-wars, or skirmishes that Dear Leader laid claim to ending, and which garnered him a couple more nominations.  

I'll give Trump some minor credit for using his diplomatic and economy-threatening skills to move things along in a number of these situations.

But then he goes and starts obliterating boats (and the humans in the boats) that may or may not have been involved in drug trafficking, but which is kinda/sorta against international law. 

And he renamed the US Department of Defense to the Department of War.

Plus he's been threatening war with Nigeria. (Is it to save Nigerian Christians, or grab the country's oil?)

Not to mention he's been sending in troops to cities and states where they a) aren't wanted and b) aren't needed, in Trump's peacekeeping hopes that these deployments will turn into violent fiascos so he can declare an insurrection and start killing folks in blue cities. (I'm already practicing my 'duck and cover.') 

Anyway, now that I think of it, Trump not getting the Peace Prize is a travesty? NOT.

Of course, I can't say that it's not at least mildly entertaining - if you can factor out the nausea-inducement - to watch Trump non-stop grovel for the recognition and pathetically whine about not winning it. Trump is actually somewhat fascinating in that, along with his lack of empathy, lack of curiosity, lack of integrity, lack of decency, lack of honesty, lack of compassion, etc., he is apparently completely lacking in shame. What an embarrassment to our country. (I was going to say 'what an embarrassment to his family,' but as long as they're raking in the grift $, I'm sure they don't care at all.)

After he didn't win the Nobel Peace Prize, after he threw his snits, Trump did get a boost when the South Koreans gave him a crown. If you can't be the Nobel Peace Prize winner, at least you can be a make-pretend king! 

And then FIFA, the famously corrupt international soccer association, decided to trump the South Korean gift of a crown, and create a consolation peace prize.

In November: 

Fifa president Gianni Infantino announced the creation of the Fifa peace prize, to be awarded each year to “individuals who help unite people in peace through unwavering commitment and special actions”. The inaugural award will be presented on 5 December during the World Cup draw at the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts in Washington DC, a high-profile event that Trump is expected to attend. (Source: The Guardian)

Expected to attend? Did anyone think for a New York minute that Trump was going to miss an opportunity to be the center of attention, have his arse royally kissed, and get to blather on about how the FIFA - Guardian says fifa, I say FIFA - prize is actually better than the Nobel.

“In an increasingly unsettled and divided world, it’s fundamental to recognise the outstanding contribution of those who work hard to end conflicts and bring people together in a spirit of peace,” Infantino said. “Football stands for peace, and on behalf of the entire global football community, this prize will recognise the enormous efforts of those individuals who unite people, bringing hope for future generations.”

FIFA corruption aside, sports in general, and football (a.k.a., soccer) in particular do unite people. Billions of people will watch the World Cup matches next year. I don't have much interest in it, but even I will likely turn it on at some point, and I'll know for sure who's in the finals. Sure, your enemy becomes the opposing team, but - occasional riots and hooliganism aside - it's not a murderous emnity. And you're friends with anyone and everyeone rooting for your guys. For a peaceful 90 minutes (plus stoppage time), you're with those who are wearing the same colors and waving the same flag, even though IRL (which starts the moment the trophy is awarded) you might despise them.

But in what world is Donald J. Trump someone who "unite(s) people, bringing hope for future generations"? 

He makes no bones about not giving two shits - make that actively hating - those who didn't vote for him. What hope exactly is be bringing to anyone? Please name names.

In any case, 2026 will be a big ego-booster of a year for Dear Leader. Even if he fails yet again to win the Nobel Peace Prize, he'll be presiding over both the US's 250th birthday and elbowing his way into the picture whenever he can at World Cup events. 

Can't wait. (Have I used up my allotment of NOTs?)

Meanwhile, congratulations to Trump on winning the FIFA Peace Prize. Make that the FIFA Piece of Crap Prize.

Memo to the Toy Hall of Fame: Let It Snow!

Each year, I like to take a look at the toys nominated for entry into the National Toy Hall of Fame, which is housed in the Strong National Museum of Play in Rochester, NY. (I've been there, a brief but fun visit. What's not to like about a museum dedicated to toys and playing?)

There are a lot of wonderful toys and games that have been inducted in the Toy HoF. The Hula Hoop. The Baby Doll. Jacks. Teddy Bears. PlayDoh. Doll Houses. Balls. 

All personal faves.

But my favorite favorites are the most basic of items, toys like Alphabet Blocks, Crayons, Chalk, Swings, and Playing Cards - things that aren't over complicated, tricked out, expensive, yet provide for hours of fun. (Or at least they did when I was a kiddo.) I was a little bummed out that one of last year's finalists - Balloons - didn't make the cut.

But there are even more basics, the most basicests of basics, that don't cost a thing. How wonderful that the Hall of Fame includes things that aren't produced by Disney or Mattel, that aren't made in miserable overseas factories, that don't end up in waste dumps. Sticks. Cardboard Boxes. Blankets. Sand.

Sticks can, of course, be weapons, which is likely their most common usage. But they can also be canes or shepherds' crooks. Teachers' pointers. Outlines/framing for a pretend house. Bats. Etc.

Cardboard Boxes. The fun never ends! One of the treats of my childhood was when someone in the neighborhood got a large appliance delivered - a fridge, a washing machine - and us kids got the box. Instant club house or fort, good until it rained. And - my favorite use case - a tumbler: stuff a bunch of kids in it and push it down the steep bank of the frontyards of the street I spent my first seven years on. With luck, you'd get a couple of somersaults in before the kid-filled box hit the edge of the cement retaining wall and landed on the sidewalk with a satisfying clunk. Small boxes were just fine, too. You could make trains, houses, villages full of houses, doll beds. Or just push a baby around in it. You could use a piece of cardboard as a makeshift sled for snow, or to slide down grass banks if you didn't have a big, intact box.

Blankets were hiding places, tents, things to toss other kids in. They were costumes. Cover your head: ghost or monster. Over your shoulders: cape. Draped around your body: glamorous ball gown.

Sand also made an excellent toy. Castles. Forts. Food (especially when augmented with acorns, pignuts, and red berries). Mud pies. Just digging in at the beach and watching the hole miraculously fill with water. Digging for worms. (Oogie.) Digging to China. (A complete waste of time. You knew you were never going to get there.)

Ah, the basicests! Available, versatile, affordable. No rules. No tricky pieces. No assembly needed. And good for all sorts of imaginative play. 

Given my inclination towards basic toys, I was delighted to see that one of this year's Toy Hall of Fame finalists was SNOW. 

Unfortunately, only available in places where it snows - and there's a diminishing number of those, I'm afraid, but Snow is such a terrific plaything. 

You can use it to build forts, igloos, caves. You can make snowballs. You can slide on it. (And lest you think that you need a pricey Flexible Flyer, a toboggan, a flying saucer, to enjoy sledding, you can slide using a piece of cardboard. (C.f., Cardboard Box.) 

Snow is good for making snow angels.

And snowmen.

I was especially fortunate to spend my early years in a flat in my grandmother's coal-heated three decker. So we had real bonafide pieces of coal to use for eyes, for the smile, for the buttons. Even in the dead of winter, you could always find sticks for arms. And even my frugal mother would spot us a carrot to use for a nose, and some worn to the nubbin knit cap, a rag to use for a scarf. When we moved to the next block and no longer used coal, you could always find stones. (This was New England. Rocky, stoney ground in abundance.)

Snow was also, of course, the ultimate pro-play, pro-toy thing in that we were pretty much guaranteed a couple of Snow Days per winter. (Snow days required at least a foot of snow, but there were plenty of foot-of-snow storms in the Worcester of my childhood. Bummer if they happened on a weekend. Hiss, boo!) I know I've said this many times in the past, but one of the most beautiful sounds in the world was the WNEB radio announcer saying "No school all schools, Worcester public" - and here we would hold our breaths waiting for the words we longed to hear - "and parochial."

Tough luck for my mother. Good luck for us! A day off! And all that glorious snow to play in!

As I write this post, I don't yet know what's been elected to the Toy Hall of Fame for 2025. 

Let it be SNOW!

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Image Source: Wikipedia

Dr. Who? Dr. What?

In October, I received a form letter from my primary care physician, announcing that she was leaving her internal medicine practice to become a concierge doctor.

I was not happy to hear this news, as E has been my doctor for well over a decade, and I trust, like, and admire her. E is a good 20-25 years younger than I am, so I had been hoping that she would see me out the door. (Her husband is my dentist, and my hope is that he ain't going anywhere. I've been getting my dental care at his practice for nearly 50 years. E's father was my dentist for decades, and I was delighted when E joined the practice.) 

The form letter from E stated that all of her patient's would be assigned a new doctor by mid-November, and we were not to contact her office. Don't email us, we'll email you.  

When I saw the note, I gulped and did three things: 

• I wrote E a very nice snail mail note telling her that I was grateful for her care over the years, and, while I was disappointed in the news that she was leaving, I wished her well.
• I got in touch with K and M, two friends from different spheres of my life who are also patients of E. All three of us are long-standing members of the E Fan Club. All three of us were upset by the news.
• I wrote an unwanted email to E (or E's practice) saying that, before assignments were made, patients should be asked for their preferences. Mine would have been a woman doctor, one affiliated with Mass General,where I have been a mostly healthy part of the family for nearly 50 years, and one who was relatively convenient to get to. MGH is the hospital where my husband spent the last week of his life. I know my way around there. Brigham & Women's is part of the Partners healthcare system that MGH is a member of. I did not want to get shunted off to The Brigham, even though it is a fine hospital. Whenever I visit someone there, I get lost.

No response to either the note (wasn't expecting one), nor the email (kinda/sorta was).

Pairwise, K, M and I had several convos about the sitch. (As an aside, K is a retired primary care physician, M a retired nurse. They know things.)

On a lovely mid-October day, I was on the train, tootling out to the 'burbs to have lunch with a friend. I was checking my email and saw a notice from Partners. I had my assignment. In suburban Waltham. 

I immediately texted K and M, and spent the rest of my train ride on the phone with one or the other of them.

K had also been exiled to Waltham. M, through a convoluted set of circumstances - and a lot of persistence on her part - had been okayed to see O, a resident in E's practice.

The notification said that the Waltham facility was accessible by public transportation.

Their definition of accessible is not quite the same as mine. 

I plotted a trip, and for me to get from home to the new doctor in Waltham via public transpo would take 1.5 to 2.1 hours each way. It would involve multiple changes train-bus-bus, and, depending on the route, would require a .4 to 2.0 mile walk up a hill. (The detail on the hill climb wasn't included in the route info, but, as it turns out, I used to work in that area and know all about the hill.) 

Not that I would ever be taking public transpo out to the wilds of Waltham - Uber all the way, baby - but, seriously folks, to expect a carless elder who lives a 10 minute walk from E's practice - which is still a practice - to trek out to Waltham seems pretty daffy to me.

When I got home from my lunch, I shot a response off, saying that I thought it was pretty outrageous to assign a carless city-girl elder to the boondocks. I also asked to be assigned to O, the resident physician that M had arranged to see. The curt auto-response was pretty much of the sorry/not sorry variety. It included a number to call if I wanted something different.

So I called and spoke with a very nice young woman who told me that there were no MGH-affiliated PCP's anywhere in the city of Boston taking new patients. She laid out my options, which were mostly in locations farther away than Waltham, but the coup de grâce was that I could get assigned - guaranteed, they're taking new patients - to Amazon One Medical. NO THANKS! Make that NO FUCKING THANKS.

While I was speaking with the very nice young woman, I saw that another message had come in from E's office, this time not an auto-response, but a personal note from E's practice manager. She apologized for the process having upset me, and told me that if I were willing to see a resident - who would only be around for a couple of years - she would assign me to O. 

Yes, seeing a resident 10 minutes from my house was infinitely preferable to schlepping out to Waltham. Over the course of time, I've seen a number of residents and nurse practitioners and physicians assistants. Happy to see any and all. Sure, for continuity of care it's nice to have your very own personal Marcus Welby, but that's not the wave of the present, let alone the future.

Meanwhile, K wasn't able to line up with O, but was assigned to another resident which she, as a physician herself, thinks is just fine.

So all good.

But it's no secret that there's a shortage of primary care doctors, and Mass General Brigham has been hit especially hard. 

So they've now launched:

...an AI app that questions patients, reviews medical records, and produces a list of potential diagnoses.

Called “Care Connect,” the platform was launched on Sept. 9 for the 15,000 MGB patients without a primary care doctor. A chatbot that is available 24/7 interviews the patient, then sets up a telehealth appointment with a physician in as little as half an hour. MGB is among the first health care systems nationally to roll out the app. (Source: The Boston Globe)

Look, medicine is one area where I think AI shows some real promise. I've read that it's proving to be better at identifying breast cancer than mammograms are. And I'm sure that eventually AI will be very good at looking at tests and symptoms and making a diagnosis, which should be especially helpful in rare and complex cases. There's too much stuff to know out there, and doctors really aren't able with keeping up with it all. So bring on AI. (Not to mention that half of us are using AI search to get preliminary diagnoses for ourselves, our friends, and our families. Asking Dr. Google - and making sure that the sources are legit and not some ChatGPT iodiocy spewing bot - helps us figure out what to ask the doctor when we see them.)  

But I'm not fully sold on sticking an AI intermediary (and AI-driven devices) between patient and physician. 

It will, of course, happen sooner rather than later. And there may be plenty of places - refilling a prescription, the common cold - where Dr. AI will perform plenty well enough. But there's something to be said for the doctor in the white coat actually looking you in the eye when they're delivering good, bad, or just sort of meh news.

Maybe MGH needs to start treating its primary care doctors better so they won't be running out the door. It's a demanding job to begin with, and the paperwork, the midnight emails, the Dr. Googling don't make it any easier. But I can certainly see a point where having a personal PCP will only be for those who can afford concierge medicine, while the rest of us "see" a robot, or a doctor in Timbuktu via telehealth, or a rotating carousel of residents and nurses, or whoever it is that's on duty that day in the healthstop or Amazon's fakeroo doctor's offices. 

Me, I'm just happy to be seeing Dr. O for my annual come January.  So what if it's the first, last, and only time I'll see her? Crisis averted, at least for now. No more worrying about Dr. Who and Dr. What. 

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Image Source: SciTech Daily