I am stewing. Why? I just wonder how anyone can write about any subject without first thoroughly researching it; and second of all, without getting the person’s name right, who is the subject of the discourse. The whole act seems criminal, and just as “life is in the details,” the details of someone’s life are important to “get right.”

In exploring any subject, a good writer will look at multiple sources to verify the same material. I verified the person’s name in many ways, including her birth and marriage certificates. A conscientious writer will employ critical thinking skills to figure out situations.

I’ll give you an example. It does not seem logical to say that a woman was engaged in giving quilt talks, when that person had just lost her husband, was busy working on an undergraduate and a graduate degree at an out of state university, and was teaching, too. This is not to mention that the book upon which she cheap viagra 100mg tablets based much of her quilt block information and stories for lectures, had not yet been published. In addition, when there is no extant physical evidence, it is doubly illogical to claim the statement.

To come to the conclusion that the woman might not have given quilt lectures during the time in question, one would have to know when her husband died, what years she was in school, and what else she was doing during that decade. One would also have to realize that the quilt book in question weighed heavily in answering the question as to whether or not the person was actively involved in giving lectures during that decade. Without written proof, the statement that she provided quilt lectures at that time, is pure speculation. You get the point.

What does one do when one is a scholar and an historian who is serious about discovering the truth, and then, dismally, realizes that another “scholar” has published/disseminated erroneous information, covering a ten year time span?

There comes the rub. What can one do? It is a frustrating situation, particularly when people line up to take sides. As far as I know, no one has taken sides yet. Knowing human nature, it seems a likely scenario. People make light of the errors of their cronies, perhaps due to a misplaced loyalty.

I am interested in the truth. I uphold it, and I seek to spread it. I speak out when something is wrong, and in the case I mention, things cheap viagra 100mg tablets amiss.

I can’t account for the mistakes of others. Being in a hurry was the excuse given to me. All I can do is to try to retell the story, incorporating the facts, while trying to forget the lack of attention to the facts that has preceded my work.

I could just cry a river over the hurt inflicted on the family, when their relative was not even called by her given name. The error repeated itself, in yet another venue. Instead of honoring the deceased by writing about her, her memory was dishonored. And now, this misinformation has been spread to the four winds, via an article, presentations, and/or journal write-ups that will remain in libraries, forever, possibly to confuse other researchers.

Yes, I am upset when I think of misguided “work” by someone who should have tried a little harder to establish the truth. Now, the information is on record, “for what it’s worth.” I am passionate about my chosen field of quilt history and I just want people to “get it right.” When they don’t, it’s a crying shame.

Patricia Cummings

We are constantly evolving, as people, and it is no news to you that “change” always seems to be the most desirable next step. In some instances, change is for the better. However, change just for the sake of itself does not always reap expected benefits. To turn to politics, for an instant, Barack Obama has achieved his current pinnacle of success on the buzzword of “change.”

Right now, the results of change are troublesome. Schools are turning out students who are lackadaisical about disciplined learning. Graduates sometimes lack critical thinking skills altogether. It is rather frightening. I mean, would you really like to have a doctor operating on you who has barely eeked through medical school with poor grades? I’d rather have an A student taking out my appendix. By the way, what are the standards of medical schools in other countries? Foreign-trained doctors are being hired, left and right, in clinics across the country, and some of those doctors are quite inept.

While we are on the subject, what about the current state of kickbacks – oh, pardon me, “rebates,” to doctors, for prescribing medications? One doctor tried (unsuccessfully) to tell me that I have Restless Leg Syndrome and don’t sleep well. Really? I sleep just fine, and if I don’t, it is perhaps more often due to a certain person, snoring. Yes, sometimes it is cheap viagra 100mg tabletssnoring, waking myself up! Ha! No, no twitchy legs here.

Maybe the problem between foreign doctors and patients is sometimes that of language. Some doctors just don’t know how to interact with, or speak with, patients.

I like to remember the time when doctors made house calls, when they knew every member of the family, or at least all of the siblings.

Dr. Joy and Dr. Jalbert, in my youth, were two of the finest physicians I have ever known. One of them visited our house one Sunday, late afternoon, after my brother had split his head open when ice skating with my other brother, and my parents were away at some church activity. Unless memory fails me, one of them came to see me when I had Scarlet Fever. When I think back, I see my childhood as a kind of Norman Rockwell vignette. Even though we lived in a city, everything seemed so home town, right down to the striped poles outside the barber shops.

We went to the bakery on Saturday afternoons. The smell of breads and pastries nearly filled the street. My mother would buy baked beans that surpassed even her own, and hers were delicious. Her favorite pastry was “Neopolitans.” My Dad favored “Apple Turnovers.” Of course, today, the business is no longer there.

As I approach my birthday, I can’t help but think of these kinds of changes – no more house calls by doctors, no more small town atmosphere in Manchester, no more bakery, or dedicated fish market in the “Irish” part of town. Things and places change and we change. It is all so subtle and slow moving, we barely notice from day to day. My hair is gray and changing to white. I weigh more than I did when I was in college. I reach for my glasses, if I don’t already have them on, whenever I want to read, and I’m noticing, more and more, all the little aches and pains associated with aging.

I find myself getting enraged at the mistakes of others who “should know better.” I find that I do not suffer fools gladly, or at all. I have become very outspoken because I have a command of more knowledge, than ever before, and I view it as an injustice and a personal affront when anyone passes along false information.

So, there are changes in the world that are unavoidable: natural disasters, the economy, and war. We have little or no control over the physical changes of aging, in ourselves. The things we can change, we should, for starters:� Education with higher standards at every level; and testing for foreign doctors coming into mainstream medical practices in the U.S. In addition, it would be a good idea to outlaw those so-called “rebates” as they present a conflict of interest between patient interest, and padding the pockets of doctors.

Some change is good; but some is not. The next president will not have time to sort out all the problems because they have been developing for too long a time. We can start making the world a “kinder, gentler” place, in our own workplace. For example, a nice way to answer the phone at a clinic would be, “Hello. May I help you?” – not, “I’m with another patient. Can you hold? (click). The health care system does seem in need of a major overhaul. In life, you will find that it IS the little things that matter.

Patricia Cummings