Faulkner, Healthcare Reform, Anesthesia, 9/11
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Faulkner, Healthcare Reform, Anesthesia, 9/11
Writings/recordings on/from/about Mississippi, Connecticut, West Virginia, and NYC
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Today, Bastiat’s Window offers a medley of my recent works, including: (1) My introductory column on Civil Rights, Faulkner, blues, Mississippi/Virginia trees, and more for Mississippi’s Magnolia Tribune; (2) My four-part series on anesthesiology regulation, co-authored with Nina McLain and Murray Feldstein and published by West Virginia University’s Knee Center for Occupational Regulation; (3) My recent podcast on healthcare reform with Connecticut’s Yankee Institute President Carol Platt Liebau; and (4) a Celtic band version of “Laurelyn,” the poem/song I wrote in 2011 to honor the family’s of the firefighters of 9/11, which took place 22 years ago today; I posted a brass ensemble version last week. Lots more coming. :)
[1] From the Beltway to the Deep South, Diving into Mississippi
I’m now a bimonthly columnist for Mississippi’s Magnolia Tribune, and my first column included the following:
Why I might have something useful to say about a state I’ve visited precisely three times in my life. My columns will focus heavily on healthcare and policy, but history, music, science, and literature will also be in the mix.
“My story begins in 1954 in Petersburg, Virginia, where the Civil War ground to its end. As kids, we played on eroding entrenchments that were not yet a century old. Brown v. Board of Education followed me by four months, and, borrowing words from William Faulkner, ‘my own little postage stamp of native soil’ was, like Mississippi, roiled by the struggle for civil rights. … Petersburg’s wounds haven’t fully healed, recalling another quote from the Bard of Oxford: ‘The past is never dead. It’s not even past.’”
In 1810, a man from my hometown became Governor (President) of the Republic of West Florida—a brief-lived nation that aspired to conquer southern Mississippi.
In 1976, a University of Virginia professor: “arranged for me to spend a whole morning alone in a room, thumbing page-by-page through the original handwritten manuscript of The Sound and the Fury. The pages in my hands felt as fragile and sacred as the Dead Sea Scrolls.”
I vividly remember Hurricane Camille which, in 1969, ravaged the Mississippi Coastline and then snuck into Virginia by night to ravage our area.
My mother both loved and cursed the tupelo that stood in her front yard, as I both love and curse the magnolia that later stood in my own front yard.
As a musician, I deeply admire the jazz, blues, and country music that arose from Mississippi—and I’m just a tiny bit jealous, as Virginia has never even approached those heights in music.
In the 2010s, I made three trips to Mississippi: in 2010 to the town where Robert Altman filmed Cookie’s Fortune (1999) and to William Faulkner’s home in Oxford, in 2012 to the wild, beautiful coastline that commemorates the “Mad Potter of Biloxi,” and in 2019 to Jackson, where I heard a healthcare story that has haunted me ever since.
You can read the full article at this link.
[2] Anesthesiologist versus Anesthetist (Part 1 of 4):
I’ve coauthored a four-part series of posts on the educational and regulatory demarcations that exist between physician-anesthesiologists and nurse anesthetists. West Virginia University’s Knee Center for the Study of Occupational Regulation, where I serve as a Senior Research Affiliate, is publishing the series. My companions on these pieces are two of my most esteemed colleagues—Nina McLain, PhD and Murray Feldstein, MD. Nina, a former doctoral student of mine, Nurse Anesthesia Program Administrator and tenured Associate Professor at The University of Southern Mississippi, with a clinical practice in central Mississippi. Murray is a retired Mayo Clinic (Arizona) urologist and professor who once “oversaw” the work of nurse anesthetists under collaborative practice agreements.
The first segment, “Training, Knowledge, Privileges, Roles” was posted on 9/6/23, and the remaining segments (“Collaborative Practice Agreements and Full Practice Authority,” “Transitioning Across the Wall,” and “Alternative Pathways”) will appear over the next three Wednesdays (9/13/23, 9/20/23, and 9/27/23, respectively) on my page at the Knee Center website.
[3] How Can We Reform Connecticut’s Healthcare after COVID?
In this podcast, Yankee Institute President Carol Platt Liebau and I discuss my recent policy report: “How Can We Reform Connecticut’s Healthcare after COVID?” My comments included the following:
“COVID forced the entire United States into a big, grand experiment and opened things really quickly. Because when that virus hit our shores, [the states] didn't really have the luxury of saying, ‘Oh, we’re not gonna let this doctor practice, because he lives five miles over the border,’ or, ‘We can’t let this nurse practitioner come in because she’s over there.’ … … All of a sudden, the borders disappeared for telehealth, but also the borders disappeared for … the physical provision of health, too.”
You can read my policy report at this link, and you can listen to the podcast at this other link.
[4] On 9/11: “Laurelyn” Revisited
Today is the 22nd anniversary of the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001. A week ago, I posted an early remembrance titled, “They Also Serve Who Only Stand and Wait: Reflections on the Families of 9/11.” That piece explored the applicability of John Milton’s 17th century poem, “On His Blindness,” to the families of 9/11’s first responders and also to the service dogs who were so vital to the search for survivors and the deceased amid the rubble of the World Trade Center.
My post also included a poem I composed in 2011 to honor the families of 9/11’s firefighters and a recording of the melody I composed to accompany those lyrics. In last week’s post, the song was scored for a brass ensemble, but I noted that I had always envisioned the song performed by a Celtic band. Some readers/listeners sent touching messages about the poem and song, including queries about how it would be performed in Celtic band style. So, this week, I re-recorded the song in that style, this time in 3/4 waltz tempo, rather than 4/4 march tempo. As noted last week, when reading the poem/lyrics, it’s important to know beforehand that “New York’s Bravest” is the official motto of the FDNY.
“Laurelyn (Ballad for the FDNY)”
Composed and performed by Robert F. Graboyes © 2011, 2023
He was bound for New York’s Bravest, before he had a name.
His father fought the dragon, and he would do the same.
Delivered from his mother into smoke and ash and Hell,
To grasp the hand of God when night is shattered by the bell.
But braver than the Bravest is the one whose life he shares,
Who sends her lover off each day to scale the fiery stairs.
In Laurelyn, he found his love, and found his courage, too,
From deep within her spine of iron and eyes of steely blue.
“Oh, Laurelyn, my Laurelyn, the sirens call for me.
They beg for me to leave you for a caller’s anguished plea.
I should be home by suppertime, but if I fail to show,
Save your tears for those who called me, for you’ll know I chose to go.”
September skies were streaked with tails of black and tongues of red.
And children turned to orphans, midst the ashes of the dead.
Across the boroughs, engines raged and raced past every door.
Below the silver towers, New York’s Bravest massed for war.
“Oh, Laurelyn, sweet Laurelyn, the sirens wail for me.
They summon me to leave you for a caller’s anguished plea.
I should be home by suppertime, but if I fail to show,
Save your tears for those who called me, for you’ll know I chose to go.”
As thousands struggled down, the Bravest lumbered toward the sky.
They vowed to meet the dragons there, and face them eye to eye.
They never reached their quest that day, for soon the towers fell.
So they said their silent prayers, and bid their loves farewell.
* * * * *
The pipes and drums of cold November droned “Amazing Grace.”
Laurelyn had a flag in hand and one tear on her face.
She heard him whisper softly, “Please give the boy my name,
And give him half your courage – just enough to face the flame.”
“Oh, Laurelyn, brave Laurelyn, please love the boy for me,
But let him leave your side to heed an anguished caller’s plea.
He should be home by suppertime, but if he fails to show,
Save your tears for those who called him, for you’ll know he chose to go.”
For those who would like to hear the brass ensemble version, here it is again:
Faulkner, Healthcare Reform, Anesthesia, 9/11
I couldn't make it past the first section without stopping to comment. First, it's hard to imagine a manuscript of "The Sound and The Fury." It's one of those works that you can't see someone sitting and writing.
As to health care access, I had the privilege to work with some HCPs in Tanzania at one of their hospitals. I remember a patient, preteen girl, who came in with appendicitis, brought in over extremely poor roads by her grandfather. On a bicycle. I can't imagine the agony of that trip.
Wow. Somehow I'm not surprised. I almost would have expected him to write a page over rather than leave scratch-outs like that.