Tag: Architecture

2020 week thirty four

Book / Stuff Read
26. How to Architect –Doug Patt
How the Pandemic Defeated America – Ed Yong (The Atlantic)
The Unravelling of America – Wade Davis (Rolling Stone)
The Unravelling of the Unravelling of America – Deanna Kreisel (Medium)

2020 Running to Date
1,905.5 KM

2020 Cycling to Date
1,805.6 KM

Days Without Strava Activity: 12

How to Architect is a cutesy introduction into the world of architecture presented as an A to Z guide, with short introductions into various architectural concepts such as J for Juncture and P for Proportion and culminating with Z for Zeal, the longest chapter of the book in which Patt waxes affection for Ayn Rand and The Fountainhead. The book is an easy read but nothing special, which makes me wish that A was for Ayn rather than Asymmetry so I wouldn’t have wasted my time. The Atlantic‘s long read summarizing the astonishing COVID-19 nightmare gripping the United States didn’t offer anything I hadn’t read elsewhere but it’s a very good collected how-did-we-get-here and worth the read. Wade Davis, an anthropologist at the University of British Columbia takes The Atlantic a step further lambasting America for Rolling Stone but doing so through a highly romanticized comparison to life in Vancouver. Not to have her country shaded, former UBC professor Deanna Kreisel, who recently returned her home to the United States writes a rebuttal that reads more like yet another Vancouver break up letter from yet another exiter. She’s right, of course, but the whole things comes across as a long whataboutism to Davis’ critique. That said I think they’re both worth reading, though. Follow the links above.

I normally follow my pithy reading review with a verbose look back at my week in running. I have not done any running. It has been 12 days since my bicycle crash, and I’ll be neither running nor cycling for the foreseeable future. Instead, I’m going to write about drugs. It’s not a happy story, but it has a satisfactory ending. I hope that my experience never happens to someone else, but I’m under no illusions that this story is going to inspire change. I’m sure it’s happened to a dozen other people since me. I have no way of knowing. On the afternoon of Wednesday, August 5, I was discharged from Lions Gate Hospital in North Vancouver with a single prescription for hydromorphone and instructed to continue following the pain management regiment that I’d received in the hospital. I was given some printed materials on how to put on and take off a shirt one handed and not much else. The trauma coordinator Darren Chan gave me his card with his cell phone and said to call if I needed anything. My care was being transferred to VGH Trauma Centre and I would hear from them. It was on Friday evening we did some math and realized my pain management would run out in 36 hours. I’d been provided with no mechanism to refill the prescription. First thing Saturday morning I phoned Darren and left a voicemail explaining my predicament. His voicemail message assured he would return my call. He didn’t. I didn’t wait. I call Lions Gate and ask to speak to trauma care, and explained the situation and asked for help. The person on the line said there was nothing she could do and that I should visit an Urgent Primary Care centre because no walk-in clinic would provide a prescription for hydromorphone. I asked where and she replied Esplanade and I asked if there was one closer to me in Vancouver. She made a show of being rather put out to have to Google the Hornby Street location for me. The centre opened at 8 a.m. so I gave them a call to see if a long wait could be avoided or, fingers crossed, taken care of over the phone. The automated message said they would neither provide medical advice nor wait times over the phone. At the same time Stephanie had been seeking advice and one suggestion was to call the pharmacy that had filled the prescription—sometimes they’re able to call the doctor for a refill. I was worth a try. Hydromorphone is a narcotic that requires a special prescription written in a special prescription book. The pharmacist was sympathetic, but there was nothing she could do. She suggested I speak with someone over the phone at Urgent Primary Care, so I called them again and held for reception. When I told her my situation she abruptly told me that they don’t dispense drugs and to go to a walk-in clinic. By now Stephanie has spoken with another friend who works in health care who said to just go the Urgent Care and that they tell everyone the no-narcotic message but if I could get in to speak to a doctor about my pain management they would be able to help. We didn’t have any other option. Stephanie drove me down and I took a number and waited my turn.

After a couple hours wait I got to see a doctor, who then proceeded to tell me that the pain management instructions I’d been following were “a lot” and anyway he didn’t have the required special prescription pad. I said that surely he could get one, or at least one page from one. I asked if there was a walk in clinic nearby that the doctor on duty might have one, and he replied that no walk in clinic would prescribe me hydromorphone. I replied that the Urgent Care receptionist told me to go to a walk in clinic, why would they tell me that? He had no answer, but suggested he could ask the other doctor on duty if they had the correct pad. After a few minutes he returned. There was no pad, but he could prescribe Tylenol 3. I replied that my injuries had happened just a few days ago and I really didn’t think it was wise to change up the pain management that I’d been instructed to follow. I asked if there was someone at St. Paul’s Hospital nearby that he could call. He was apprehensive, but finally acquiesced; he would make a phone call and see. He returned a few minutes later, asking, “Hey, are you that cyclist in the news?” He gave me a letter to give to the Emergency doctor on duty at St. Paul’s but made no promises they would be willing or able to help me either. We walked up to St. Paul’s and checked into Emergency. Stephanie couldn’t stay with me because of COVID-19 restrictions, but the intake staff at St. Paul’s were exceptionally helpful and kind. I was fast tracked through Emergency and met with the doctor, letter in hand. I could tell he too was hesitant to write a hydromorphone prescription, but ultimately did. I thanked him profusely and set off for the pharmacy. On a day I should have never left the sofa, I left the house in search of health care support at just after 8 a.m. and didn’t get home until nearly 5 p.m. Back in late July, before my life was changed by a negligent driver, Premier John Horgan suggested in a press conference that the opioid crisis starts with a choice. He’s since tried to walk that statement back, as have Minister of Health Adrian Dix and the province’s top doctor Bonnie Henry. I remember being so disappointed when I heard him say it. My experience navigating the health care for pain management certainly gives me another perspective. What if I hadn’t been able to convince the doctor at Urgent Care to phone St. Paul’s? I was out of options. I’m in terrible pain, and the pain management that I’m on only manages it. It is bearable, and I have a very high pain threshold. What would I have done if I wasn’t able to get a prescription? If this was my experience, what is the experience of others? I cannot be unique. On Monday, August 10, over 48 hours after I left a message with Trauma Coordinator Darren Chan, he returned my call. I was furious. “I don’t check my phone 24 hours a day,” he replied. I reminded him that he gave me his card and said to phone if I needed anything, that I was given no other contact person for assistance. “Why would discharge me from trauma care, and give me a number – the only number I was given – that isn’t even monitored?” He replied, “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

I received excellent care throughout my stay at Lions Gate Hospital. The doctors and nurses were exceptional and professional. There is a huge problem with the way in which I was discharged. I am fortunate that I was able to solve the issues I faced, but I shouldn’t have had to, and no one else should have to either.

Notes:
– If you’re wondering what the heck is going on, I wrote about it all here: https://readrunwrite.com/2020-week-thirty-two/
– Thanks again for all the well wishes from everyone. I have a very long road ahead of me and your kind words of support really do help.
– My bike is home! It looks in okay shape but I won’t be riding anytime soon, and not before it gets a full safety check at the shop. I’m on the waitlist. Thanks for all the offers to help.
– Some of you have asked about a GoFundMe page; a friend has created one. It feels weird because I think there are much more worthy causes, but if you are so inclined: https://www.gofundme.com/f/todd-nickel-recovery-fund I am overwhelmed by the response so far. Thank you.

2020 week three

Book Read
1. The Architecture of Happiness – Alain de Botton

Kilometres Ran
week three – 57.6

2020 to date: 163 KM

I’ve been a de Botton fan for a while but I have a few gaps in my collection. Then before Christmas SC and I spent a day shopping local on Main Street and Mount Pleasant, which never excludes a visit to Pulp Fiction Books. These visits take longer than they did back when I lived a few blocks away and I could come in and quickly peruse the new arrivals and then carry on my merry way. Anyway, on this visit I didn’t get much farther then the new arrivals and ended up at the cash register with a small pile, including this de Botton title that had been on my radar for a while. And it did not disappoint. I think my only complaint is that de Botton tends to use “which” sans preceding comma and in every single instance when “that” would suffice, which annoys me slightly more than the lazy use of the Oxford comma but not quite as much as the comma splice. Incidentally, I also quite like le Corbusier and if you don’t then you might not share my enjoyment of this book. Okay, I have two complaints. The second is that the book is chock-full of fantastic photographs, all in black-and-white. I wish that they were most or all in colour.

Apparently this was the week to quit, and the weather definitely cooperated. I was quickly reminded that once you just get outside and do it, it is almost always way less terrible than you thought it was going to be.

Strava says that today is Quitter’s Day – according to their data, January 19, 2020 is the date they predict most people will give up their fitness resolutions. I have mixed feelings. I think New Year’s resolutions are dumb because they so often fail but then they’re arbitrarily attached to a date that only comes around once a year so there’s a tendency to put off trying again until the arbitrary date comes around again. If you can get past the arbitrary date, then I think resolutions can be great. I have read that it takes 21 days to create a new habit, so tripping on or before day 19 and then not getting back up makes sense. But I also read that the 21 days thing is bullshit. Maybe if you want to make positive change, just decide to do it, be ready to fail, and also determined to learn from failure and move the fuck on.

Pre-Icebreaker 8K warm up strides in Steveston. First race of 2020.

So this morning I woke up and dropped some Nuun into the CIM Finisher bottle I got after failing pretty hard back at the beginning of December last year and I went and ran my first race since – my first race of 2020 – the Icebreaker 8K. After snowing all week the weather warmed and the rain washed most of it away, and then it rather miraculously cleared up a bit to provide a slightly damp but otherwise pretty perfect race morning. I had set a rather arbitrary goal to run 31:30. I’d never raced an 8K before so I wasn’t sure what to expect, or where my fitness was at coming into the new year. I ran my best 5K and 10K this past September and I was rather curious to see if I could run 3:59s for eight kilometres and not die. Well, I’m alive. I had a great start and felt really good going through the first couple kilometres, and I just focused on keeping a steady pace through seven and then finish strong. It didn’t quite go that way, because by six kilometres I was really feeling it. I managed to catch a couple people who’d been leading me for most of the race. With just under a kilometre to go I was passed back by one who had a better finish kick than me, but I did manage a bit of a kick down the last long straight to the finish, crossing the line in gun time 31:40 (31:38 chip time) for 3:58 /km average (and very even) pace and fourth in my age group. I am very please with that result. My body felt good and still does a few hours later sitting here typing this. I was very close to my arbitrary goal, and exceeded my other. I checked off my January race with a smile, and I’m really looking forward to my first goal race of the year: the RunVan First Half half marathon in just three weeks.

All smiles post-race – a few of us from the Mile2Marathon crew (l2r): Katie, Meaghan, Mel, Rose and me. iPhone button pressing provided by Raymond Cayas.

Last thing: during some step near the Icebreaker finish and my post race warm down jog my Strava running odometer clicked over 10,000 KM and I think that’s pretty cool.