Category Archives: Weight Loss Doctors

Boston and Providence – Bussey Bridge Train Disaster March 14, 1887

A few nice weight loss doctors images I found:

Boston and Providence – Bussey Bridge Train Disaster March 14, 1887
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Image by clamshack
www.youtube.com/watch?v=w5XVJ3v5bF0&fbclid=IwAR3cZCh6…

Jamaica Plain Historical Society
www.jphs.org/transportation/bussey-bridge-train-disaster….

March 14, 1887 dawned gray and cold in Dedham, Massachusetts. It was a snappy Monday morning with the temperature at about 34 degrees. Shortly after 6:00 a.m., Boston & Providence Railroad engineer Walter White and his fireman Alfred Billings steamed their engine, the D.B. Torrey, the short distance from the Dedham engine house to the impressive stone edifice that was the Dedham depot of the Providence Railroad.

Engineer White, a 31-year veteran on the Dedham to Boston run, cautiously backed into the train of nine open-platform, red-varnished coaches that made up the 7:00 A.m. train to Boston. The yardman dropped the pin into the coupling and White and the Torrey were tied to the head end. This was the only day in the week when he would trail nine cars, for on Mondays the passenger load required one extra car.

The run was familiar to White. He’d covered the same route for three decades, and today, as usual, he would follow the 6:10 to Boston. His passengers would be businessmen, workingmen, and store girls – about 100 by the time they left Roslindale, the community halfway between Dedham and Boston’s Park Square Depot.

The D.B. Torrey was a trim little 440 American Type locomotive, the mainstay of American railroads of the 1880’s. She was built by the Rhode Island Locomotive Works in 1880 and weighed 35½ tons. She had just been fitted with a new stack, slightly smaller than her original, and this caused her to steam with a little more difficulty than usual. But this was the only thing out of the ordinary that morning, and it meant simply that Billings would labor more with the coal scoop and White wouldn’t have the power normally available.

Promptly at 7:00 a.m., the train of partially-filled wooden coaches chugged out of Dedham Square over the bridge across High Street and into the outskirts of town. It steamed through snow-covered meadows and crossed the iron bridge spanning Mother Brook. Billings watched the boiler pressure gauge needle dance between 90 and 105 pounds, down a bit from the normal pressure that powered the Torrey.

Back in the coaches, Conductor Myron Tilden and his assistants William Alden and Webster Drake busied themselves taking tickets, while brakeman John Tripp, Winfield Smith, and Elisha Annis remained alert for the engine whistle that would send them to the end platforms to wind the brakewheels. Their effort, added to the air brake on the Torrey, would be more than sufficient to stop the train under normal circumstances. The day of the automatic air brake was just dawning, and while mainline trains were equipped with such systems, branch trains had yet to be modernized.

At each of the closely spaced stations – Spring Street, West Roxbury, Highland, and Central – the train picked up more of its human cargo. Five stops after leaving Dedham the train stood in Roslindale station. By then, nearly 200 passengers occupied the eight coaches and one combination baggage and smoking car coupled to the end of the train.

White’s watch showed him seven minutes late. The timetable called for a 15 minute run from Dedham to Forest Hills, about a mile and a half from Roslindale. The extra car, the cool morning which made wheel bearings stiff, and the poor steaming of the Torrey had combined to lose time from White’s schedule. Regardless, he was better than halfway into Boston on a routine Monday morning in March.

Slowly, White notched the Torrey’s throttle out. The engine barked through a shallow earth cut just east of the station and began the slight downgrade toward Forest Hills. Out of the cut and onto a high embankment the train rattled above the frozen ice and snow covered meadows below.

About a quarter mile ahead, the single-track Dedham Branch crossed South Street on a spindly iron truss bridge known as the Bussey Bridge. It took its name from the old Bussey family farm that later was to become a part of the would-famous Arnold Arboretum. In earlier days, as a wooden bridge, it was sheathed in tin to prevent it from catching fire. The iron structure, which replaced it, was still known as the Tin Bridge.

The Bussey Bridge, toward which 200 souls in nine fragile coaches were heading, was by any standards, a peculiar structure. It crossed the street at an incredibly oblique angle, its spindly iron trusswork bridging a gap of some 120 feet between high granite abutments. So sharp was the angle of the span that the floor beam which ran from the center of the truss on one side rested on the end of the truss which supported the other side of the bridge. Its design was such that certain structural members carried a disproportionate share of the load of every locomotive and car passing over the structure. And this was a violation of the laws of physics and mechanics that would not be tolerated forever.

That March morning, Engineer White approached the old Tin Bridge at a cautious speed. It was a habit, arising from restrictions placed on the bridge prior to its rebuilding in 1876.

There was no indication whatever of any danger as the D. B. Torrey and her nine red coaches rolled toward the bridge. To the engine crew the bridge appeared as solid and safe as ever. White could see meadows stretching away on either side of the embankment, their pale, frozen grass surface punctuated occasionally by stands of bare maples and elms.

The familiar rumble White had heard as his engines crossed innumerable bridges during his career filled his ears as he passed over Bussey Bridge that morning. As the Torrey reached the Boston end of the span, however, White felt a sudden jarring of the engine’s front end, and as the drivers reached the far abutment there was a strong shock unlike anything he had ever felt passing over the bridge.

Immediately he looked back and saw the first car off the track, careening drunkenly behind him. His blood ran cold as he watched the second, third, and fourth cars dancing insanely, trailed by an ugly cloud of smoke and dust where five more cars loaded with passengers should be crossing the bridge,

Instinctively he knew that his train, save the first three or four cars, had gone through the bridge. In the seconds it took for the awesome spectacle to unfold, White’s hands pulled the reversing lever – the fastest way to bring the Torrey to a halt. By now the force of the writhing cars and their human cargo had snapped the coupling at the tender and the Torrey was free.

As the engine came to a halt, White’s reflexes told him there was nothing he and his fireman could do. He knew there was a Dedham-bound train with Engineer Tim Prince in the cab waiting for him at Forest Hills. It was loaded with laborers headed for Dedham to work on a bridge project. He knew too, that these husky workers might well mean the difference between life and death to those trapped in the coaches which lay in a heap beneath where the Bussey Bridge once stood.

Before the engine stopped, White threw the reversing lever ahead, yanked the throttle out, and the Torrey lunged forward again. White grabbed the whistle cord, and the polished brass steam whistle atop the Torrey’s dome screamed in anguish as she roared toward Forest Hills.

Woodcutters in the woods beside the tracks and residents along the line were stopped by the piercing wails of the whistle. They watched as the Torrey raced down the track, her engineer and fireman frantically waving and pointing back in the direction she had come from. That some kind of calamity had occurred was obvious.

In what seemed like seconds, the Torrey was at Forest Hills. White and Billings yelled to station agent William Worley that a train had gone through the bridge and to send Jim Prince’s three-car train with its laborers to the scene.

Immediately Prince had his engine barking at full throttle up the branch toward the ill-fated commuter train. White leaped from his cab and ran into the small frame depot where he ordered Worley to telephone for doctors and ambulances.

Five minutes later he was again aboard the Torrey, headed back to the scene to give what help he could to the dead and injured.

What met them when they returned was a ghastly panorama. Three cars teetered on the frozen roadbed, their wheels torn from beneath them, underbodies and platforms smashed to kindling. Behind the third car the roof of the fourth lay on roadbed, torn from the rest of the car body, which was some 50 feet below. The fifth through the ninth cars were either at the bottom of the embankment or in the chasm where the bridge had stood.

The rear car, which had been the smoker, was smashed, turned upside down. The next car was thrown on its side and stove in; the next car dropped square on its wheels and stood upright. The succeeding two cars were telescoped and lapped onto each other and a part of the sixth car was wedged between the telescope and the embankment. All the cars were smashed and broken, twisted and entwined with the iron beams and girders of the bridge. Broken rails, twisted and jagged bars of iron, and splintered wood combined with badly mangled dead and injured in a scene of horror.

Within minutes, spurred on by White’s alarm, help was arriving from everywhere. Residents and shopkeepers, workers and doctors from Roslindale arrived in time to extinguish one small fire and help in removing the injured. Hundreds worked feverishly to remove the wounded. A special train carrying doctors, hastily assembled by railroad officials from the professional buildings around Park Square Depot in Boston, arrived to render medical aid.

When all the passengers had been removed the dead and near-dead numbered 23. Most of the dead had been killed instantly. Some of the injured survived a few hours, one several days. Over 100 were injured, more than half of them seriously.

What caused this terrible disaster? The Boston Globe that evening speculated that a weakened span failed under the weight of the train.

The Massachusetts Board of Railroad Commissioners convened the day after the wreck and sat until April 4, gathering facts upon which to determine the cause. What it heard from survivors, railroad officials, the builder of the Bussey Bridge, and outside engineering experts was a story of an incredible collection of circumstances culminating in the tragic collapse.

The primary cause was determined to be a pair of iron hangers which formed an integral part of the supporting network of iron rods making up one of the two trusses upon which the rails rested. Improperly designed and manufactured, they weakened gradually with the passage of time and failed catastrophically that morning. The weight of the Torrey snapped the hangers, and the bridge immediately began to disintegrate as the train crossed the span.

The parade of witnesses described how the Boston & Providence in 1876 entered into a contract with one Edward Hewins, representing the Metropolitan Bridge Company, to rebuild the bridge. Testimony further revealed that he alone was the Metropolitan Bridge Company. When pressed on this point by the commissioners, Hewins testified it had been his intention to organize a bridge company at the time but never got around to doing it. The two trusses which made up the ill-fated bridge were actually fabricated by two separate iron works. The Commissioners found that the railroad had never investigated the Metropolitan Bridge Company and that no one involved in making the contract really knew enough about iron bridge building to pass intelligently on the structure’s design and specifications. In fact, it was generally admitted during the hearings that the company didn’t even employ an expert to review the design of the bridge once it had been built.

One railroad employee who had inspected the bridge regularly was a machinist who was not trained to look at key structural parts for signs of failure.

Six years earlier the Commission had recommended a series of structural tests for the bridge, which were never conducted. Crossties were spaced too far apart for safety. The bridge was not equipped with guardrails to catch the wheels of a derailed train and guide them safely across. And, tragically, the Westinghouse automatic air brake was not in operation on the train even though it was becoming more common on the nation’s railroads. Had it been in use, it might have prevented the fatal plunge of coaches into the chasm following the separation of the train from the engine.

Fire, the real horror of most train wrecks of the era, didn’t occur because the B & P followed a policy of bolting its coal-burning, car-heating stoves to the floor and bolting the doors shut, thereby, eliminating the possibility of hot coals igniting the wooden wreckage.

The wreck was a calamity for the Boston & Providence, which for almost twenty years previously had not had a train accident resulting in injury or loss of life to a passenger.

Today the Boston & Providence is long gone, along with its Dedham Branch to West Roxbury. Where once stood the Dedham depot, a municipal parking lot serves Dedham shoppers. Trains still cross South Street in Roslindale on the Penn Central’s Needham Branch. But the Bussey Bridge they use is a solid, substantial granite arch, which has safely carried passenger and freight trains since before the turn of the century. It stands as a stone monument to the hapless passengers on the 7:00 A.M. train and the quick-thinking engineer whose fast action that Monday morning in March saved so many lives.

Written by Edward J. Sweeney. Originally published in Yankee Magazine, March 1975. Image courtesy of Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division, Digital ID: cph 3g03155

Saxenda (Liraglutide) Weight Loss Injection Pen – Image 1
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Image by Doctor4U_UK
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Celia says #87 (lock)
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Image by Brett Jordan

Cool Weight Loss Doctors images

A few nice weight loss doctors images I found:

Day 172 of 366 (Collectible Monday Edition)
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Image by James_Seattle
An adipose waves good-bye at my door as it heads off the porch and out into the world.

[The Adipose originally came from the planet Adipose 3. After the Adiposian First Family lost the nursery planet, they hired wet nurses in order to find new places to breed their offspring. On Earth, the wet-nurse Matron Cofelia set up Adipose Industries and disguised the Adipose seeds in the form of weight-loss pills, using humans as surrogates. The pill gained over a million customers quickly. When the Tenth Doctor and Donna Noble discovered the alien secret behind the supposed diet pills, Matron Cofelia ordered the immediate birthing of all Adipose. The Adipose nursery ship collected the babies then ordered the death of "Miss Foster", as Cofelia was known, to remove any evidence, as breeding on a Level 5 planet was an illegal act under the Shadow Proclamation. ( Partners in Crime) After being taken from Earth, the Shadow Proclamation took the baby Adipose into care.

The Adipose reproduced on Nursery Worlds. When on Earth, the Adipose’s development was started when a pill from Adipose Industries was ingested. The young Adipose would grow, collecting fat from around the body. Every night, the Adipose would then be born and leave the body. They could convert other material into fat; however, this practice was not good for their health. Alternative materials included the bones, organs, muscles and many other human tissues. In emergencies, this was used to dispose of people by turning them completely into Adipose.]

[Taken from Wikipedia]

A very short classified file (video) on them:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=57g3dKzYMuU

A clip from The Doctor Who episode "Partners in Crime"
www.youtube.com/watch?v=zqYsFv_IxLc

My Dad’s Quotes – A Tribute
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Image by EX22218 – ON/OFF
To the tune of CSNY’s "Teach Your Children Well" – www.youtube.com/watch?v=dQOaUnSmJr8

My Dad’s Favorite Quotes:

"You know, Suzie (he called me Suzie) you can be replaced". – (He was right. Unfortunately, you couldn’t be, Dad.)
"If you had half a brain you’d be dangerous." (Up for debate)
"Do the right thing" – Huh.
"Do as I say, not as I do".
"I just want you to live an honest life". (Refer to "Do as I say, not as I do".
"You’re no prize"
"Eat your heart out" – I can assure you, I do. Especially when I am reminded of the night *somebody* walked up to my bedroom while I was sleeping as a toddler and pulled the sheets down. Wanna talk about frozen in terror, Dad? Wanna talk about "the fiend without a face" now? Wanna talk about suicide now? Too late. Unfortunately, kids don’t forget – they simply divert themselves. Buried moments tend to resurface now and then. The next time that happens it will be in the morgue if I get that far. You did. I’m a slacker. But then, it’s just a right of passage, they say. You want therapy with that whine? One moment can make or break somebody – which one broke you – or were you born that way?
"They broke the mold when they made you". Which mold?
"I forgot more than you know"
"you have a one-track mind" – It’s "inherited" (wink-wink)
"Do you know what time it is?" (No – I confuse right and left. It only took 60 years to figure that one out)
"Get your ass in gear"
"Motor Mouth" – His polite way of saying shut-up. He never said shut-up. He always said this with a smile.
"Shit for brains" His name for my brothers.
"Go run around the block" (We did – many times I did not go home).
"Asshole buddies" – (When one of his buddies went somewhere with one of his other buddies other than him.)
"He talks like he’s got a paper asshole".
"Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it" – See "Do as I say, not as I do".
"If you’re going to live in my house you live by my rules".
"Every cigarette you smoke is another nail in your coffin".
"Your eyes look like two piss holes in the snow" – (First time wearing makeup.)
"You got band-aids for those mosquito bites?" (First time I’d asked Mom for a bra.)
"You have exactly till 6:00PM to eat those tomatoes (two hours away) or you go to bed *again* without any dinner.". (And?)
"Watch the tips goddammit!" – (Bringing the fishing poles in from the boat).
"You smell like burnt toast".
"I don’t trust him/her as far as I can throw him/her". I was a child, remember? Maybe throwing your beer cans, cigarettes, cigars and bottles in the garbage would’ve been a good start, Dad.
"You know, sometimes I think about suicide." (Christmas Day – 10 days prior to placing a high-powered rifle in his mouth while sitting on the toilet, so they said. )

Mom said he’d always stated he was going to commit suicide when he was ready, although I was not aware or told of that one while he was alive. IOW, he always had a plan. "He did it his way" – on his mother-in-law’s birthday. He probably didn’t even know it.

He committed suicide 20 years ago (or so) today – January 4, 2019. Nobody knew my phone number to let me know – my Son was finally able to reach me. Somehow I lost a year at that point. I only know *somebody* put that bullet hole in the bathroom ceiling and his neighbor cleaned up the bathroom. That neighbor developed early dementia as many people do after witnessing such a horrific sight they do not recover from without counseling or talking about it and coming to terms with it. Family trauma and abuse is much the same. That is how people are then labeled with psychiatric terms, unfortunately they were not in fact the "crazy" ones. The true "crazy" ones stay under the radar and appear fully functioning. IOW, "they have jobs" according to today’s society. I’d been told my Dad was a "functioning alcoholic".

He tried quitting smoking many times. Once he tried replacing cigarettes with Regal Crown sour cherry & sour lemon drops. No sugar-free options back then. That’s when he lost his teeth. After he quit he gained tons of weight.

He sat at the dinner table waving his fork up and down frequently….fair warning to get ready to duck. The five of us always had dinner together every night – that’s good for the family structure, it’s said. A few times he turned the dinner table over or threw dishes at one of us. I only know he generally missed. I would occasionally lock myself in the bathroom to get away from the violence. He generally knew how to unlock those doors. I ran away from home frequently. I accidentally drove his red Chevy pickup truck into a pond. Someone helped me get it back up on land. I also accidentally set his red Chevy pickup on fire but he wasn’t mad. He just laughed. He was a good sport like that. Brother Bob finally totaled it after being broadsided by a UPS truck (malfunctioning traffic light) on the way home from a Grateful Dead concert in Philadelphia. It really was a pretty truck – fire engine red with hand painted gold leaf lettering. It had ladder racks which I’d used as a jungle gym. He mostly put up tin, slate and shingle roofs. The most fun was taking the old shingles, slate and tin he ripped off the old roofs to the landfill in his dump truck which he parked around the corner on Hudson St not far from Gliba’s bar (Chambersburg, NJ), dumping it off a cliff along the embankments of the Delaware River – he would back up to the edge as close as he could and hit the gas to attempt to scare us. He didn’t. This was also near the huge penicillin and pharmaceutical dump by the Trenton Marine Terminal off Rt. 29 towards White City Lake..

US Navy Veteran. He had one older brother and one older sister. They (Mom & Dad) had three boys (one died – the second one – Russell – his stomach never closed so his guts were exposed and baby Russell only lived a short time. I do not know if or where baby Russell was buried) but Mom said he always wanted a girl, anyway. He told the same stories year after year for over 40 years, yet never spoke about his time in the Navy (the *brotherhood*, code of silence, whatever). He was the baby of his family. He had brown eyes. He said people had brown eyes because they were full of shit up to their forehead. His Mom died when he was 12. He had a severe hearing deficit that was never addressed, as many Veterans do. He was diabetic although it was never addressed. He had metabolic syndrome although it was never addressed. He always kept, cleaned and took great care of his German Ruger which was kept in the headboard of their bed. We learned at an early age where it was and to "respect" it.

He either fished or stayed in his bedroom watching old war movies in his later years and went to flea markets occasionally. His back also started giving out. He refused to go to a doctor. I do not recall that he ever did until his 70’s when he developed skin cancer (fisherman’s arms). Then he wore a hat like Lawrence of Arabia. They took real good care of him at whichever doctor / hospital he’d gone to. Someone trashed all of his records upon his death as I found only a few after Mom passed away – a statement from CMS Medicare – a summary of claims processed dated 6/13/2003 from a Dr. John W. Petrozzi in Barnegat – for an office visit dated 4/25/03. It was denied. Reason? "a. Our records show that the date of death was before the date of service. b. You do not have to pay this amount., c. The name or Medicare number was incorrect or missing. Ask your provider to use the name or number shown on this notice for future claims." My oldest brother wanted his "Red Dawn" book back. We never found it in the house but we combed through everything looking for it.

He would go meet his buddies for breakfast at a local diner. He was always mad at one of them at any given time. He had a loud, infectious laugh and a loud boisterous voice. He was also a tinsmith and spent a good portion of his Winters melting lead in the basement to make fishing sinkers. He had freezers full of bait (and hundred dollar bills wrapped in tin-foil). He was a phenomenal cook – he loved the typical German/ Polish/ Hungarian meat & potatoes diet. He adored his fatty meats (bacon, pork, Szalolonna, etc….). He never ate anything sugary except for tons of fresh fruit nightly. He only ate Wonder Bread (white) and tons of processed lunch meats (favorite was Lebanon Bologna). He came home for lunch daily for his bread and tomato sandwich w. fresh radishes on the side w. salt, He did like his Navy Bean Soup with ham. He also spent his afternoons at the American Legion drinking beer. The only "ritual" I remember aside from cleaning his gun weekly and going to Church with us once a year (Christmas) was breaking out the Limburger cheese every Sunday. That was the day we would all hold our noses and run out of the house screaming.

He would go fishing twice a week – a 1 1/2 hr. drive from Trenton & Lawrenceville, NJ to Waretown, NJ, where he docked his boat. There was a sharp turn around Cranberry Lake where he would drive 100MPH to try to scare us. It didn’t. While smoking his cigars (that was not fun). I did, however, have many, many night terrors most of my younger life about being trapped in a car underwater, among others. Until I learned how to escape one if it indeed happened. My friends all received a glass-break tool for the holidays one year. www.thebugoutbagguide.com/best-car-escape-tool/

He taught me how to shoot guns, ride horses, sail and swim (by throwing me in deep waters without any life vest while he laughed),. I am not sure why so many fathers do this to their daughters….one would think they’d teach them how to swim, first. He taught me how to handle a boat, to navigate through channels, sandbars and the Barnegat Inlet. He taught me how to surf. He taught me to water ski (without knowing how to swim). He taught me to snow ski. He taught me how to drive (while using a quick backhand across the face if I made my turns too wide). He taught me how to shoot bow and arrow. He taught me how to shuffle, deal and play cards. He taught me how to detail a truck. He left me a ,000 John Hancock Life Insurance policy which allowed me to purchase a Windows Millenium Edition Dell Dimension computer – my first Windows computer which enabled me to go back to school after my aneurysm. He taught me how to "be kind to animals" (after he beat them till they would no longer move) – I skip that part (hurting them). He & Mom hunted wild game (rabbits, pheasants and deer)) with 2 beagles (Tiny and Nellie who was later replaced by Rosie) which were kept outside year long. He had another dog before them – Speck. And another beagle, Queenie. He didn’t mind me bringing home as many animals (and amphibians) as I was able. Except for snakes. Mom had a snake phobia and even the tiniest garter snake upset her, so I learned not to bring home snakes after the first one.

He frequently had his drinking buddies at the house till late at night. Mom always loved Frank Sinatra, hence he did his best to emulate him in every way he could. He built a beautiful bar in the basement – I was the family bartender. He got a player piano which was quite fun. He set us up with pinball machines, pool table, juke boxes, bowling machines, arcades, etc….which he’d gotten from his friend, Whitey Bralynski from Browns Novelty, who supplied the arcade, pinball machines & shooting games.to local diners, bowling alleys, etc. – an all cash business.

He & Mom hunted deer with bow and arrow together, also. They beat the shit out of us, whipped my brothers and I frequently (I was the only one to hit back). One of the more favorite methods of "teaching" was total isolation for a day or night or more (locked in a completely dark cellar way). He was not the major disciplinarian (at least not for me). We won’t go there. He taught me how to not give a fuck about life although it was against my grain. The medical profession convinced him knee implants (which his body rejected) and various other surgeries would improve his quality of life – while in his 70’s. They, as well as Medicare or the V.A. (not sure which), squeezed the last bit of benefits out of him prior to his death. He began getting major headaches. He took shark cartilage which his buddies told him would help with pain. He died a few months after these surgeries after he insisted he did not want a nurse visiting his house to change the packings after they removed a good portion of his colon. Unless of course, his insurance would not cover it. Mom was unable to pack his wounds. His neighbor Bobby LeFebvre would go over and do this. Dad never exercised although climbing up and down a ladder in his younger years qualified for a while. Other than passive sports (bowling) while younger. he did practice his boxing skills on the family although that extended out to cage fighting, MMA and simply total loss of control of his anger (on 3 little kids). Wills Eye Hospital in Philadelphia attempted to convince him he needed to have an eye surgery – he left there in the middle of the night – Mom and her neighbor, Judy, drove to go get him at 2AM. I had just returned to work after the aneurysm and could not leave my job II was partially blind and was taking the bus) so I was on the phone with Mom throughout the night. The hospital also attempted to convince him he’d had a brain aneurysm (he did not). He did have a small stroke one Thanksgiving Day and refused treatment at that time. But one day a week or two later he walked into a wall, fell, knocked himself out splitting his head open (and one eye went crooked) which concerned them, hence a visit to the hospital. We all do love the holidays, after all. Wills Eye Hospital removed one of my Mother’s eyes – she was in her 70’s also. They like to take eyes when they can – someone can always use them. He was a Democratic Committeeman in Lawrenceville, NJ, USA. He was also a boxer on his ship, a ship’s cook, a roofing contractor, a great singer and comedian, and made friends wherever he went. He could be a very sharp dresser. He was also a die hard fisherman, a Charter Boat captain, and skilled builder, card player, gardener and carpenter. He was also an asshole, bigot and a stubborn fuck all his life. To the best of my knowledge, in spite of his earlier years as a boxer, he was never evaluated for TBI, trauma, hearing loss or any other neurological impairment or injury.

His favorite song was Frank Sinatra’s "My Way". He loved to watch Dean Martin, All In The Family and Three’s Company. He liked Chrissy. He never liked any of my friends and called all of my girlfriends (since elementary school) whores. He left instructions for Mom on how much to sell his boat, cars and trucks for and what to do with all his fishing stuff (an entire garage full) – that was very considerate, I thought. Once he & Mom were going to get a divorce – Dad said we had to choose who we wanted to live with. Ironically, I chose Dad. Brother Bob (the middle child) went hysterical and could not choose. So they reconciled after counseling with our Church pastor, we became The Brady Bunch and moved to the illustrious suburbs. Both he & Mom had themselves cremated and dumped in the Barnegat Inlet. We took Mom out on a neighbor’s boat (Al Casamente, one of his fishing buddies who later was hitting on Mom, she said) – not sure who took Dad – perhaps it was one of his fishing buddies Jimmy McCarty. When their cat, Max died here in Kentucky his ashes were shipped to NJ and his neighbor Bobby again took care of it, so Max should be out there living with the fishes as well. I do not even remember which war Dad was in. – with everyone in our families on both sides generations back in wars, it became impossible to remember whose was whose, mostly because when I’d asked there were many different answers their paperwork disappeared. There was no obituary. No memorial service.

I was told two versions of how his Mom died. One was she was at the "beauty parlor" and died from what was called "beauty parlor stroke syndrome". The other story was she was getting her hair done and there was a mob bombing in which she was killed. Read about beauty parlor stroke syndrome – articles.mercola.com/sites/articles/archive/2017/03/25/be…

While Mom was sorting out his belongings after he allegedly committed suicide, she said she found a black bra in his closet. This would most likely account for why all of his belongings were disposed of.

RIP, Dad. Thank you for preparing me to deal with senior citizens. I hope I haven’t created too much havoc as your Daughter (if I really was).

With Love,
Dysfunctional Veteran’s Daughter

Moral of Story: Drinking, drugs, babysitters & kids don’t mix. Think about it.

RIP Ziva 2011-2016
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Image by Nicholas Erwin
I haven’t been on Flickr very often in the last few weeks and that’s because my cat and best friend Ziva has not feeling well.

I had to put my maine coon cat Ziva down last night. It was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. The last few weeks she hasn’t been acting right and was losing weight rapidly so yesterday we decided to take her to the vets. In the spring we took her to the vet because had trouble eating and that was because she had a bit of dental disease and it was causing some discomfortable but we able to take control of it and she felt better in a week. We were hoping it was going to be something similar.

When the vet did the exam, she felt something not right in her abdomen and recommended an x-ray in which we were soon to find out what it was, she had 2 large tumors in her abdomen and the doctor doctor didn’t think it was going to operable. Not that we could afford it anyways….

We had to make sure though so they brought us where the x-ray machine was and showed us the pictures and you can clearly see two large masses and that pushing her insides and it would eventually would of stopped her for going to the bathroom.

She was also losing her hair more so than normal for the last year or so but didn’t think much about it, she was an indoor cat so I thought maybe the seasons and being in a warm environment during the cold seasons was having an effect. With her teeth and mouth problems and the hair loss the vet said she most likely had some form of cancer, most likely Leukemia which unfortunately can be common in Maine Coons.

I could see she was uncomfortable and most likely in pain so we made the decision to put her down peacefully. The veterinary hospital has a beautiful pet cemetery garden out back where she will be buried.

We didn’t want watch her take her final breath so as we were leaving the nurse was holding my kitty and we were saying our final goodbyes, Ziva was just staring at me as we were walking out and I can’t get that image out of my head.

I’m going to miss her lots, she will never be forgotten.

RIP Ziva 2011-2016.

I know how many of you loved seeing pictures of my cat and I’m going to miss taking them.

Nice Weight Loss Doctors photos

A few nice weight loss doctors images I found:

Stevie Girl will need surgery ~~ Scheduled for Wed.2/23
weight loss doctors
Image by Trish Hamme
for a small tumour on her left front mammary gland .
Since the first week of Dec. , she has lost almost a pound ~~~~
Blood work results are due Monday , then surgery will be scheduled for Tues. or Wed. ~~~~

UPDATE Sat. 2/19 -Just recieved e-mail from Vet. , with Blood Test results:

"The accompanying blood test results point toward a problem with Stevie’s Liver. The elevated bilirubin (an indication of bile pigment accumulation in the blood called jaundice) is mild but unmistakable, and the liver enzyme elevations (AST, ALT, Alkaline Phosphatase) are mild, but taken as a whole with the bilirubin increase are strongly suggestive that a low grade liver ailment is present. The good news is that every other parameter is normal (including platelets evidenced by the "adequate" platelet estimate). A 12 mg/dL increase in cholesterol is not clinically significant from a health standpoint but adds circumstantial weight to the suspicion of a liver ailment.
There are many possible pathologies that could cause these blood enzyme changes, and the next most logical step diagnostically is to do an ultrasound screen of her liver (whole abdomen really). "
Doctor is not in office until 8am Mon. , so will set up Ultrasound then , and find out if surgery on the
"lump" in her mammary gland should be schelduled , or wait on ultrasound results ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THANK YOU for your Prayers & Well Wishes-Flickr Friends are the BEST !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

UPDATE Mon.2/21—
Stevie goes in to Vet. at 7am Wed morning———–He can do BOTH surgery & ultrasound at same time~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I pick her up at 5pm Wed————–but Doctor will call me to let me know all is well after surgery~~~~~~~~~~will discuss ultrasound results at 5~~~~~~~
Glad can do both at same time —-much less stress on Stevie———
and ME 🙂 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thank You all SO Much for your Prayers & Well Wishes !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

UPDATE Wed.2/23 -UPDATE 2:45pm—Stevie out of surgery , lump fully removed !!!!!!! Ultrasound clear-NO tumors or
abnormaladies found—-Dr. will discuss other possible reasons for weight loss & abnormal liver function
when I pick her up at 5pm .
THANK YOU ,Bless You for all your Love & Support & Prayers !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Will update with more details after I talk with Dr.

Scales
weight loss doctors
Image by Jarod Carruthers
I liked these scales that were on a small alley in Siena. Lots of people will be looking at these after the festive season (me included!).

CameraCanon EOS 450D
Exposure0.003 sec (1/400)
Aperturef/4.5
Focal Length70 mm
ISO Speed800
Exposure Bias0 EV

Mel B
weight loss doctors
Image by Eva Rinaldi Celebrity and Live Music Photographer
Mel B Of Spice Girls Fame Signs On With Jenny Craig, by Eva Rinaldi

Mel B aka Melanie Brown has just been signed up as the new face of Jenny Craig (Australia and New Zealand).

Today at 10.30am Mel B, the top brass at Jenny Craig, and over a dozen news media enjoyed a healthy and delicious breakfast (and a media gig) at the Centennial Parklands function centre.

In the extremely unlikely event that you didn’t know, Mel B is an English pop singer-songwriter, actress, author and television presenter. She is best known around the world as Scary Spice, one of the members of the girl group Spice Girls.

It’s well know that brands around the world are often interested in signing up suitable celebrities to promote their wares, and on the surface it looks to be a great match with Jenny Craig being a leader in the weight loss industry for over 30 years, and Mel B recently off pregnancy, enjoying motherhood and looking to loose weight.

The international star told our table "I just love the breakfast. Jenny Craig is just right for me being a busy mum".

Mel B said on her eating "I was eating literally eating morning, noon and night, and its didn’t matter what time. I was just eating. I was a house. I love my humps and bumps, but when a newspaper described my shape as the ‘bootylicious, curvylicious, post-baby body of Melanie, I knew I had to do something. I had to get the eating under control".

Jenny Craig boss Amy Smith released in a media statement: "Mel told us she doesn’t like dieting at all. She loves eating healthy foods and she is thrilled with the health snack options and the amount of fruit and vegetables she gets to eat. Jenny Craig’s team of nutritionists and doctors have created a program especially for women like Mel who have recently given birth, that takes into consideration the nutrient levels needed for breastfeeding women", says Ms Smith.

Mel B said: "Life gets a bit crazy when you’ve got four daughters but it’s important for us mums to live healthy and to be in good shape. Mums really need to take time for themselves and get to a place where they are happy with their body again. We should not put it off because we deserve more than that. I healthy happy mum equals a healthy happy family."

After breakfast Mel did some on site TV interviews, believed to be for Channel Seven, followed by a relaxed photo shoot in the lush green parklands. Apparently word must have spread around Sydney press circles, as after just minutes after going outside for the shoot a number of uninvited paparazzi showed up and started snapping away. Mel and her media team probably expected it, so its a good thing that the word is well and truly out about her new campaign with Jenny Craig.

Mel B looks great, so just imagine how hot she will look a few months into the Jenny Craig program. She acknowledge that media, the other former Spice Girls and everyone else will be watching her progress closely, and judging by today it appears UK pop queen is on set to achieve her diet goals. Will you achieve your dieting goals as summer sneaks up on you? Needless to say, you now know who to call, which we strongly suspect for the ideal in the first place.

Thanks for the tasty J.C breakfast guys. Highly recommended.

Websites

Jenny Craig
www.jennycraig.com.au

Melanie Brown official website
www.melaniebrown.com

Centennial Parklands Dining
www.trippaswhitegroup.com.au/our-venues/Centennial-Parkla…

Centennial Parklands
www.centennialparklands.com.au

Hollywood Treatment
www.hollywoodtreatment.net

Eva Rinaldi Photography Flickr
www.flickr.com/evarinaldiphotography

Eva Rinaldi Photography
www.evarinaldi.com