Editorial

Last August, I was called to help a man with his dying wishes.  He had three.  The first was to go to Zen Hospice in San Francisco for his final days.  The second was that a Tibetan Llama accompany him with prayers and chanting for the last part of his journey, and the third was for medical cannabis so that he could reduce his reliance on prescribed opiates and die with a “clear mind.”

What do Hollywood’s Charlie Sheen, Sebastopol’s leaf blowers and

The farther the SMART train project moves down the line, the

Driving up the Oregon coast we heard a radio interview with a woman, someone who lived in the far-off troubled Arab world, I think she was Lebanese, saying she takes her family to the beach because people don’t usually bomb beaches. That’s something I never thought about. But here I was imagining a mother grabbing sunhats and sand buckets to take time off from war.

On a day dialed up by the Point Arena Chamber of Commerce, the U.S. Secretary of the Interior, Sally Jewell, came, saw and listened. I attended Friday’s environmental love fest on behalf of Sonoma County Supervisor Mike McGuire who is running for the 2nd District Senate seat in which the beautiful 1,664 acre Stornetta Public Lands is being considered for a land inclusion into the California Coastal National Monument.  McGuire’s time is now limited as he is speaking to the Kiwanis, Rotarians and special interest groups times the seven counties in the district.

Something unusual happened to me recently, and I think it serves a purpose to write about it here. I was attending a Healdsburg Museum opening celebration, and it was lovely. Good wine, good people and a lovely exhibit of local Farm to Table. I was about to leave for another event when someone said “Dr. Anderson, we need you right now!” I ran down the stairs only to find that a woman had passed out, and had briefly, before I got there, become totally unresponsive. You do your training thing, feel for a pulse, check for respirations, etc. She had a very faint and thready, but regular pulse, and was now responding to questions. She was very weak and sweaty. She was perhaps in her fifties, an active and supportive volunteer for the Museum. They were holding her in a sitting position, and I immediately told them to let her lay flat, so that despite her weak pulse, blood would more easily flow to her brain. Sure enough, within a minute or two she became more responsive, less sweaty, and her pulse became stronger. That is when you ask questions about her symptoms prior to this spell. She had no history of heart problems. Earlier she did have some chest pain, maybe some nausea. She had a history of fainting, but not for years. It was a very scary situation for her and for her friends who had seen this happen.  So I had to make a decision about what was the next step for her. I will get back to her situation in a moment, but let’s go on to phase two.

Last year, I was lucky enough to have been selected as Corp Member for Teach for America, a non-profit organization that places teachers in high need schools throughout the United States. My placement is in the Mississippi Delta, a region that has experienced long-standing high poverty, low graduation, and very poor college admission rates. Here, I have taught English to some wonderful students at Amanda Elzy High School in Greenwood, Mississippi. Unfortunately, many of these students are years behind grade level in a variety of subjects and often do not have the resources or opportunities that I was fortunate enough to receive in Healdsburg.

A few months ago I made an urgent plea that folks stop burning

We have been living in a global village and sharing the same orbiting planet much longer than social scientists have been reminding us, or the first photos from outer space of our fragile blue-green marble confirmed.

My Indiana friend sent a photo of her dazzling ruby-colored backyard. For your fall fix, she wrote. A California friend visiting Maine posted golden leaves on Facebook and happily reported it blustery enough for gloves and scarves.