Maybe Sometimes God Makes Mistakes

 I was looking for a previous post the other day, and noted that I hadn't written anything in a while.

Not for lack of potential topics, mind you.  How about our friend, Supreme Court Clarence Thomas on the grift?  The Republican Freedom (term used loosely) Caucus holding the United States of America hostage by ousting Kevin McCarthy (Karma's a bitch, Kev), leaving the Speakership empty for three weeks only to finally elect Mike Johnson, whose only qualifications appear to be he appeased the hostage takers with his previous work as an election denier, abortion foe, vocal opponent of gay marriage albeit a nice guy?  Hamas attacking Gaza?  And lest we forget, how about the Donald, four time indicted felon, whose children are being called to testify in his NY fraud case?  

What a Dad, huh?

No, I'd left those topics to speak for themselves as I spent the bulk of the fall enjoying the unseasonably and climate change influenced weather, spending time with the grands, playing Pickleball, being with friends, etc.  In other words, living on the down low, even as it has often felt as if our world is simmering on the brink of the Apocalypse.

Then, reading the news last week, my Snark-O-Meter sprung into high gear, triggering what I've often referred to as a potential God mistake.  And my friend Jackie visited our old boss, who is suffering (yes, suffering) in the throes of dementia, and what she shared about that visit precipitated thoughts of another possible error by the Almighty.  I'll begin with that one.

Our mutual former boss was a force to be reckoned with.  She sometimes referred to herself as an "Old Buffalo" in Minnesota Community Education.  What that actually meant is she was among the pioneers in the Community Ed field, establishing the program as an integral part of the school district, holding her ground with other district leaders (okay, let's be honest, mostly Superintendents) who didn't much see the value of programming from birth-death in the schools.  She helped the field see how it could convince their respective leadership and school boards that Community Ed was more than classes on basket weaving and drawing.  She was principled and not unwilling to stand up for her beliefs.  She served as a mentor to many, myself included.

A number of years ago, she began showing signs of dementia.  Over the years it has progressed to full blown Alzheimers, to the place where she no longer has a sense of self, nor can she care for herself.  God bless Jackie for visiting her, because the visit was about as awful as you might imagine for a person in the throes of Alzheimers.  As Jackie was telling me about it, we both said the same thing.  First of all, our former boss would not want to live like that.  Second, if we ever disintegrate to where our minds have completely gone blank but our bodies have not had the good sense to follow, grind all our medications into some applesauce and help us get it down, tuck us into bed, sit by our bedside and play soft music as we drift away.  

Here's where I think the mistake might have come in.  I've been in multiple conversations with friends about an all merciful God, often precipitated by a horror in the world, of which there are so so many.  As the chat becomes more personal, Alzheimers often comes up and we mutually agree that we'd like to have someone end our lives rather than continue existing like that.  So maybe God made a mistake.  When the final brain cell outlives its sell by date and clicks off, a little switch should pop up, maybe at the base of the neck, with a gentle glow to call attention to it.  It's the off switch, and as someone flips it, a voice says, "Well done, good and faithful servant," and that's it.  Done.

The second OOPSIE has to do with menopause.  

Evidently the workplace is finally getting the picture that menopause is a real malady for many of their workers who have passed through their childbearing years, and because the American workplace has done such a stellar job with job benefits and modifications for pregnant/new mothers (yes, the Snark-O-Meter is ramping up), it will now turn its attention to its workers who are, experiencing "profound and sometimes surprising effects the “change of life” can have on women’s lives, health, workplaces and even finances."

Just knock me over with a feather.

According to a report from the University of Virginia, menopause (I'm thinking the authors should be referencing this as perimenopause, but what do I know?) "affects not only those going through it, but also those who love them, live with them and work with them."  Really?

The article I read, and forgive me for not bookmarking it so I can cite the reference, talked about accommodations for menopausal women, including wellness coaching.  That was when the Snark-O-Meter jumped.  Yep, if I'm experiencing the gushing periods of perimenopause, a chat with a wellness coach is just what I need.  And my favorite involved the financial impact on the workplace of menopausal women, because if they miss too much work, well then, you just might have to replace them!

So, the mistake.  And the solution is one I've promoted for a long time, at least twenty years.  As best as I can tell, the Almighty is a bit too busy with other things to turn attention to my good idea.  Not going to hold it against Him.

When you are finished with your childbearing years, and before perimenopause kicks in, a little string should drop down into your vagina, long enough to be noticeable to you as a foreign body.  (Yes, I'm speaking only of females.)  And that day, you say, "Hallelujah!", call all those family and friends and if you want, your co-workers, and invite them over for a party because you are DONE.  Then a quick call to the clinic, to make an appointment with a medically trained professional.  On the visit, said professional will invite you to drop your drawers, get those legs up in the stirrup one final time (DONE!).  The professional takes a look around to ensure everything 'down there' is healthy, then says, "Take a deep breath" as s/he (thinking it would be nice if this is performed by a woman) gives a good tug on the string.  Out comes all those organs involved in childbearing that are no longer necessary and otherwise have the potential for making women miserable for years.  There might be some cauterizing involved afterward, not sure.  Then you are escorted down the hall to the comfortably furnished recovery room, where you spend a full 24 hours day doing whatever the hell it is you want to do (including, probably, the first full night sleep in years) until one final check tells you yes, you're cleared to go home, and yes, you are DONE.

As I said, so far I haven't heard that this is in the works, but with all the gene altering and AI, it could happen.

Aren't you glad I'm back?  I've missed you, too.