A book I recently read has greatly influenced my opinion about the current Islamic issue—the controversy over the planned Islamic Center to be built near ground zero. I believe this book is so important, especially right now, given the current animosity toward Muslims. In fact, Zeitoun, by Dave Eggers, should be required reading in high school, just like “To Kill a Mockingbird”. The two books are similar– both tell a story of discrimination— except that the latter is fiction and Zeitoun is a true story.
Just days after hurricane Katrina, an American citizen from Syria was detained by the US government then inhumanely imprisoned without charges in a makeshift jail that sounds worse than Guantanamo Bay. Abdulrahman Zeitoun stayed in New Orleans after the flooding: He paddled from house to house in a canoe, helping neighbors and feeding dogs left behind. In return, the government treated him worse than an animal…
In August 2006 Kathy and Abdulrahman Zeitoun filed a lawsuit against the City of New Orleans, Mayor Ray Nagin, the state of Louisiana and the state police. The suit alleged false imprisonment and false arrest of Mr. Zeitoun during the aftermath of Hurricane. Katrina. Here is the Disposition:
“Mr. Zeitoun was transported in the van to the Union Passenger train station in New Orleans, fingerprinted, photographed, and retained in police custody, where he remained for three days and suffered a large splinter for which he was denied medical treatment. On the third day, Appellants allege that Mr. Zeitoun was transported to the Elayn Hunt Correctional Center in St. Gabriel, Louisiana, where he informed the employees of his religious beliefs which disallowed the consumption of pork, but that this request was disregarded, as well as requests for medical treatment. Next, Appellants assert that Mr. Zeitoun was brought to a maximum security prison, where his requests to telephone his wife and have medical treatment were denied, and that although he was eventually permitted to use the telephone, he missed his turn because he fell asleep while waiting.”
Mr. Zeitoun was charged with looting and possession of stolen goods and bail was set at $75,000.00. Because he never made contact with Kathy or anyone outside the prison, he was unable to post bond—no one knew where he was, except the government. He was suspected of being a terrorist. In fact one of his guards called him “Taliban”.
(Unfortunately the lawsuit was thrown out, but the Zeitouns’ are trying again.)
Back to the Islamic Center. All white people aren’t considered KKK, so why are Muslims considered terrorists?
Shame on you, Senator Harry Reid of Nevada and Howard Dean, former national party chairman, for calling the proposed Islamic Center project “a real affront to those who lost their lives.” What happened to Abdulrahman Zeitoun mirrors this kind of mentality toward Muslims and that is why I hope every high school student will read the book, and then do everything they can to ensure that prejudice and discrimination won’t happen again. “In America every Muslim has no rights,” Zeitoun said. “There are too many stories worse than mine.”
By the way, Dave Eggers has given all author proceeds of the book to the Zeitoun Foundation, which is “dedicated to rebuilding New Orleans and fostering interfaith understanding.”
I don’t know what’s worse: second-hand cigarette smoke or second-hand Chantix. After 62 years of smoking, my 78-year-old mother decided it was time to quit so she asked her doctor to prescribe Chantix. She drove me crazy.
Fortunately for me, my mum lives a few thousand miles away. My crummy sister Jill, who warned me about our mother’s sudden change in temperament, is not so lucky—she lives a stone’s throw away. I say crummy because it was Jill who suggested that mum visit me for two weeks, just after Mum finished taking two month’s worth of Chantix. Crummy because she warned me about Mum’s anger issues just a day before mum arrived. If I’d known our mother had turned into Momzilla, I would never have let her get on the plane to visit me. (Good thing she wasn’t Steven Slater’s passenger—his hissy fit would have likely resulted in fisticuffs!)
Mum arrived August 6th and by nightfall I was drinking heavily. The first thing she commented on was my appearance. “Your hair is too dark; when you get older you should go lighter,” she advised. “You’d look better as a blonde.” I guess she doesn’t know any stupid blonde jokes. “You’ve got quite the pot,” was her next remark, and she wasn’t referring to anything in my kitchen.
“I’m thinking about making a new will and leaving everything to your brother because he doesn’t have much, what do you think?” she asked/said. I suggested that might not bode well for the rest of us (I have three sisters) and would likely cause a rift in the family. “Well that’s what I’ve decided.” Why bother asking me?
She’s a bit hard of hearing so the TV was blasting at full volume and always tuned into programs I hate: afternoon soaps, reality shows. I started drinking in the daytime. Cabin fever set in just a few days after her arrival so we went on a road trip. Big mistake. My mother doesn’t drive but she sure knows how to instruct.
And she argued with everything I said, right up until it was time to leave. “I have to be at the airport two hours before my plane takes off,” she insisted. “OK Mum, but it’s a domestic flight so you just have to be there an hour beforehand,” I replied. “No, it’s two hours.” As I was hauling her 200 lb suitcase down the stairs, she said “I don’t have to be there until 60 minutes beforehand.” I should have told her she had to be there a day beforehand.
And the glass was always half-empty. “There probably isn’t any parking” or “There likely won’t be any seats left” when I suggested we see a movie. “I bet they [the airline] make me pay extra for all this added weight” because I gave her a book for my sister—the crummy one.
Of course I love my mum. Even my friends love her and say she is the sweetest lady. But that was pre-Chantix. I just hope she gets this drug out of her system and back to normal before someone loses their patience. Before she turns her family and friends into raving alcoholics. Of course she is blissfully unaware that she has become Momzilla.
Mum, if you are reading this, it’s for your own good. I have to go now and pour myself a gin and tonic.
JetBlue flight attendant Steven Slater is getting his 15 minutes of fame and then some, for going ballistic on passengers, grabbing a few beers from the galley (coming to a beer commercial soon) before sliding down an emergency chute, making his escape and later arrested. He has become a folk hero for many people and he’s the latest media darling. But what do those JetBlue passengers think of Slater? If airline staff yelled expletives at me I would be upset, to say the least. And I might want to sue the airline for emotional pain and suffering.
Marjorie Briskin, age 53, said that Slater was rude to a passenger over a luggage issue, and thought his behavior was totally inappropriate. Another passenger said Slater was also rude to her when she complained about a coffee stain on her seat—on the other hand, I might fly into a rage if I were told to whip out the spot remover and clean the Queen of Sheba’s seat while trying to deal with a few hundred people fighting for overhead luggage space. So is Mr. Slater a Working Class Hero or Psycho?
Slater has been charged with criminal mischief and reckless endangerment. He most Read the rest of this entry »
Attorney Kip Scott has plenty of experience helping others—outside of his legal practice.
Scott first got into volunteerism during law school in his late 20s (his first career was in engineering). ” I had the opportunity to volunteer as a summer camp counselor for kids who were living in group homes,” says Scott, who helped with whatever activities they wanted to do, from swimming to bow and arrow(!) . ” I found it much more rewarding than a lot of stuff I did at work,” he adds. Scott volunteered at the camps for four summers and then 9/11 happened.
Again through his church, Scott volunteered with the relief effort. “I had one week’s notice to pack, take a few classes in disaster training and get to New York [from California], a city I had never been to,” says Scott. “We stayed a few blocks north of ground zero and worked 10-14 hour shifts. I drove a little cart around that carried supplies—food, water, firewood (to keep everyone warm at night)—for the police, fire department and the Port Authority. Most of the officers I spoke to just wanted someone to talk to about California, to keep their minds off what had just happened. Of course many people were emotionally numb; I owed them a great deal of respect.
“Basically Ground Zero was an open grave. We didn’t take any pictures; we wanted to honor the dead. It was really tough for everyone and every night after our shift we came back to the hotel and were debriefed about what we saw, what happened and what took place. The disaster training classes taught us what not to say and not to give advice; just be there for support.
“Most of us who worked at Ground Zero were so busy we didn’t have time to think about what we saw or smelled. There was a food tent and two supply tents set up and everything was being worked on including the subway. Often the gas lines would give way and everyone would have to evacuate; everywhere smelled like an electrical fire—it was surreal.
“The other part of my job was working at the medical examiner’s office—where the bodies were processed. When a body or partial body was found, they would bag the remains, put a bar code on the bag, put the bag on a gurney with a flag on it, salute, put it in the ambulance and drive the ambulance midtown to the NY Medical Examiner’s office. Again, I was there to make sure all the tents had supplies. I was there a few times when the bags were opened. The doctors would cut a piece of muscle or fingernail and bone marrow to get DNA samples. The triage room smelled like dirty ammonia, which made the doctor’s voices hoarse because the ammonia had eroded their esophagus.
“Our shift was over after two weeks and another group came in but I felt bad for leaving so many people still working there.. I would have stayed for as long as necessary.”
Then came Hurricane Katrina. Just as he did after 9/11, Scott dropped everything on short notice and traveled to Mississippi to help those in need. “I first arrived in Gulfport, where the eye of the hurricane hit,” says Scott.
“We helped flood survivors (they were not called victims) because their insurance wouldn’t help them. We would take all their furniture, appliances, clothes, everything, onto the curb of the street in the front of their house, in separate piles. Then we brought out all the drywall to expose the rafters so the wooden beams would dry—mold was a big issue. It was physically intense and the conditions were bad: it was about 100° with heavy humidity. Lots of windows wouldn’t open because the wood was swollen and inside the houses it was even hotter. I worked there for about two weeks until Hurricane Rita came and we had to leave.
“Even though for just a brief time, I’m glad I was able to help some people. And I wouldn’t hesitate to help in this capacity again—God forbid it won’t happen again. “
Back in California, Kip Scott helps personal injury victims at the Personal Injury Law Center in Orange County.
Some reports put Depakote in a more favorable light over other epilepsy drugs because there isn’t an increased risk of self-harm of suicidal behavior as reported in similar epilepsy meds. But such reports can also be dangerous if read by a soon-to-be pregnant woman or worse, an already pregnant woman on Depakote, because they often neglect to mention that the drug has been linked to Depakote birth defects.
Or perhaps a physician will read these reports and focus only on Depakote and its link to depression, bypassing its association to birth defects.
For instance, a recent UK study (Neurology, July 27, 2010) revealed that those who took relatively new antiepileptic drugs with a higher risk of causing depression, (such as levetiracetam (Keppra), topiramate (Topamax) and vigabatrin (Sabril) were three times more likely to harm themselves or attempt suicide than those who weren’t taking any epilepsy medications. The researchers found that patients who took conventional epilepsy medications, such as divalproex (Depakote, Depakote ER, Depakene) faced no increased risk of self-harm of suicidal behavior.
The Journal of the American Academy of Physician Assistants (July 29, 2010) reported that Depakote, when used as a mood stabilizer in adults with acute bipolar depression, decreases depression symptoms by at least 50 percent in at least one additional patient of every 10 patients who are given treatment instead of placebo. Again, no cautionary words for pregnant women.
Perhaps such studies should list alternative anti-epileptic medications.
But two studies presented at the beginning of July –the UK Epilepsy and Pregnancy Register and the European and International Registry of Antiepileptic Drugs in Pregnancy (EURAP)– found that Depakote and other valproate-based antiepileptic drugs were more than twice as likely to cause major congenital malformations when used by pregnant women than Tegretol (carbamazepine) and Lamictal (lamotrigine), with an overall risk of more than 6 percent.
The EURAP study set the odds of a Depakote birth defect at 9 percent. While those odds sound risky, a study done in 2006 found that about 20 percent of babies born to mothers taking Depakote suffered serious problems, as opposed to other drugs which only had rates anywhere between 1 and 10.7 percent. (Depakote was slapped with a black box warning in 2006). Clearly, the risk of Depakote outweighs the benefits, when it comes to the possibility of a pregnant woman suffering a seizure. After all, there are alternative and much safer medications.