Cycling Tales

Another Crash

 

Uggh!

I was doing my first circuit since my bypass surgery of the park drive in Prospect Park. When I got to the downhill part, I was doing a good 25+ mph, a cold but refreshing wind flowing through my hair. There's a somewhat blind curve which usually doesn't present a problem, but on Tuesday there was a film crew moving a large piece of equipment — what I think was a pole for lights. It didn't feature enough clearance for me to get underneath. I don't remember hitting it or falling, but the paramedic told me that I flew over it. Unfortunately, instead of doing the Olympic thing — landing on both feet and thrusting my hands into the air — I most probably just hit the ground on my left shoulder, breaking my collarbone. I blacked out.

Four hours later, I was leaving NY Presbyterian Brooklyn Methodist Hospital, sore but not as sore as I was today. Finally pulled my carcass out of bed today around 4pm, missing the inaugural. PHFFHTTHTH!!!

My other injuries — including a sore ankle, sore rt. side and sore neck — are relatively minor. My right hand is swollen, probably as a result of having had the I.V. inserted there and having a nick in the vein. I'll watch that to make sure the swelling goes down. I was appropriately assessed by X-ray and CT-scans, which showed the fracture, the usual arthritic neck spine changes, but no damage to brain, my head bones, or the chest. As for my prize road bike, it needs a new rear wheel, but I was able to carefully ride it home. (It didn’t get a CT-scan...)

No injury to the chest or sternum, thank goodness. Looks like that healed just in time! My heart dealt with the stress without missing a beat.

I may sue the filming company. They needed to have people flagging down cyclists. They should have known; there were avid cyclists like myself on the roadway ahead of me, and I saw even more as I was sitting in the ambulance. The Policeman was helpful; he gave me the contact info for the filming company not long after I came to (yeah, another concussion!), and he followed up with a phone call and a text, giving me info about how to get the crash report. I gave him my thanks. Suing should a good project to keep me busy and help to shake the COVID doldrums, eh?! If the suit succeeds in getting filed and surviving Defendant’s motions, I’ll probably settle out of court, hopefully getting a decent chunk of change in the process. That would be nice. Of course, if they want to settle without me having to file suit, I’ll take that, if the settlement is reasonable.

It'll be 2-4 weeks until the bone knits or otherwise heals so that I can get on the road again. My arm is in a sling, and I need to keep it immobilized to improve the chances of it knitting together. However, from what the doctor at the hospital and the repairperson at Bicycle Habitat on Vanderbilt said, if it doesn't knit back together, it's no big deal. (Most of the employees of the bike shop have had broken collarbones...!) But an operation or external manipulation could improve chances for complete healing; I need to see an orthopedist before the middle of next week.

Meanwhile, I'll sulk at home, getting exercise for my fingers on my Keyboard to the Internet...! Also, won't be able to get a bike into the spinning stand; that takes two hands (and arms, and shoulders...), so a lot less exercise.

Oy veh. I've noticed that motor vehicles drivers have gotten quite a bit more aggressive, passing me illegally close (less than three feet, by law) and intentionally pulling in front of me early. That I can deal with, oddly enough; I've become more adept at dealing with Men in Mercedes, Jerks in Jeeps, and D**** in Dodges. But dealing with a light pole, stretched horizontally less than five feet from the ground in the middle of the park drive with no way to see it in time — I don't think so.

Of course I was wearing a helmet...! Now I need to buy a new one; I have a reasonable backup I can use for now.

At least T**** is out of office... HALLELUYAH!!! I'm sure he's trying to sing, "can't get Georgia Off My Mind... “ He’s been a major “driver” of anger, selfishness, and frustration in this country. Maybe, as a result of the change in leadership, the next year will feature cooler heads on the road, so I can feel more safe. (I just listened to the first press briefing from The White House, and there was a refreshing and palpable change in the room!)

Let’s all work for calm and reason this year and next — to make our future not only more palatable but also more happy and just — and safer for cyclists!

Twelve Weeks After Bypass Surgery

An Optimist at Heart

My recovery has proceeded slowly but surely over the last couple of months. Nothing terrible has happened to me in that time — and that’s good, considering increasing COVID–19 cases in New York. I continue to “mask up” and to do all that I am able to avoid catching The Virus. So have the vast majority of New Yorkers.

I am able to carry heavier loads around now. That has really made a difference — 25 pounds of groceries carried home last time I shopped and seven (count ‘em — seven!) dirty loads of laundry shlepped downstairs to the laundry room and then seven loads of clean clothes shlepped up the stairs. My legs were fine, but my chest muscles still needed some loving care and consideration, so I waited a couple of days to put half of them away... and slept in the interim.

As both my cardiologist and I say, “Listen to your body.”

Up until a couple of days ago, I was spinning on my bike at home to get some exercise, keeping my legs and my breathing in decent condition. On Christmas Day, I gave myself a nice gift: I took my bicycle outside and rode a few miles. That felt soooo good! Now, today, I rode 11.6 miles, wearing my heart monitor. Gobsmacking good!! It was interesting to see how my heart rate varied throughout my ride. Good to see that my heart rate slowed by 20 beats per minute in only a short time when I was stopped at a traffic signal. My breathing never got labored. Only a little of “the burn” in my legs and no tiredness after riding. No chest pain. No heart pain. But I couldn’t really put out; that will have to wait until sometime in the New Year when I can allow my heart to beat as fast as it wants — within reason.

As it has been said: “Listen to your body” — with the aid of electronic devices...!

I’m hopeful. I wonder how much faster I can ride. I want to be able to attack hills more aggressively. I would like to do another Escape New York! century ride (100 miles) this September — and faster than I did a couple of years ago. I wish to take a few more long bike trips — well before I get too old to do so. Knowing more about my body, what stresses it out, and how well it can recover from that stress with the right care will inform me how far I can go, how fast, and how long.

I say it again:

Listen to your Body!

It would have been nice not to have followed in some respects a relatively unhealthy lifestyle for a number of years, driven by mental disorder. It would have been nice to not have had to take for seven years a medication that probably deposited a good deal of the plaque that clogged my left coronary artery. To be sure, I couldn’t dodge the fact that there was coronary disease in my family tree. But regret will only slow me down and, even though it has been difficult in the past for me to shake off a regret-driven depression inducing state of mind, I will surely be able to live more fully in the future, knowing that health professionals and I have teamed together to give me a good chance of achieving a number of my desired goals before I’m done with this world. What those goals are is still in the process of being reckoned — but at least I have the cycling part of it outlined!

Oh — well... then there’s music. I’m so psyched about having found the more athletic side of myself that I think less about making music. I’ve not touched a keyboard but a few times since around Ides of March time, when the church I was working for closed and musical performance in New York all but disappeared. But I kept on cycling. Then came July and my coronary artery disease diagnosis, and I became intensely focused on getting my heart fixed. But I still kept cycling, including to most all of my pre-surgery appointments!

I don’t doubt that the exercise provided by my avid habit helped keep me in a good state of mind, as well as in good fitness to handle the rigor of major surgery. Listening to my body and mind has done me good.

It’s much more difficult right now for musicians to express their artistry, except in the privacy of their homes or in an empty building. However, now that I’m able to get around, carry heavier loads, sleep less(!), and commute by bicycle(!!!), I have the bandwidth to add music practice to my To Do list. By May, I could be playing organ and directing a choir again and maybe even planning a concert or two. I look forward to that; the increased music making will help me achieve an even more healthy state of mind.

Both music and exercise are healing activities, and I intend to continue doing both. Then there’s good food. Drawback: I’ve gained 20 pounds this year — most of it from my own cooking!

I feel good about what’s to come just around the corner — many challenges, but also much satisfaction (as long as I listen to my Spirit... and my body). I’m thankful to all who have stayed in touch, seen me through surgery, and offered me emotional and material support during my recovery. In that spirit, I sincerely wish all of you Peace and Fulfillment in the coming year.

Have a Happy New Year!

Mark Victor

Heart Has History, Too

Family History...!

I had a great talk with my Auntie Ann today. She filled me in on cardiac issues that existed in two branches of our family tree — Tedlock (Uncle Victor and cousins all died of heart attacks and Bertie [nee Marshall], my grandmother, had angina) and Smith (three generations back, both branches, and Aunt Trudy). So genetically, I am disposed to heart problems. Oddly enough, my father does not have coronary artery disease, but he did suffer twice from rheumatic fever, leaving him with a heart murmur that has not slowed him down (he’s 93 y.o.). He gets periodic cardiac ultrasounds and EKGs. Genetic dispositions can skip a generation; I suspect this has happened in my case.

At least in these times we have wonderful medical diagnostic techniques, mitigation protocols (drugs, knowledge of good lifestyle changes) and fine invasive interventions. I should live a long time — just like my Dad — with good health management — both by myself and health professionals.

The family history is essential to my being able to stay in good health. Knowing this is very helpful. It indicates to me that I will probably be having regular cardiac ultrasounds and catheterization/angiograms. Note that there is a 30% occlusion in my right coronary artery — not too terribly bad, but it needs following. (Dr. Boateng mention it during my presurgery consult.) I do need to change out my statin, though; Lipitor (atorvastatin) makes me dizzy and has more interactions than the newest one (the name of which escapes me right now).

I had such a wonderful experience at Mount Sinai that I'm going to try and get my psychiatry there. WNYC featured a half-hour segment (don't remember what the show was) on research that had been done on the possible psychiatric benefit of three psychedelic drugs (ketamide, LSD, and a popular marijuana derivative). What I heard indicates to me a psychiatric section at Mount Sinai that is willing to think "outside of the box" — very important as regards the treatment of Adult ADD.

I might even consider transferring all of my care to Mount Sinai. That way, I could get the benefit of their fine Attending Physicians, rather than just their rotating residents and fellows (for the most part) that come from their medical school programs through Elmhurst Hospital Center. I'm getting more frustrated with the administration of this particular NYC-HHC hospital. Their policies are unhelpful and, I think, becoming unhealthy to deal with, especially mentally. Too many apparatchiks.

Knowledge is power — in medicine, too!

Lotsa Heart...

Wednesday and Thursday, October 14-15

I had my one follow-up appointment with Dr. Boateng and the follow-up surgery team. I am doing incredibly well; we all came to the conclusion that I’m in about the 90^th percentile of good recovery of heart surgery patients. This is only two weeks and two days after bypass surgery!

I’m going to miss all of the medical professionals at Mount Sinai. I’ve never had such a wonderful experience in hospital. The level of knowledge and skill, the kindness and appropriate firmness with which they treated me, the fine attention to infection control — all contributed to my being able to head home and continue what is a fine recovery.

I was able to nail down some concrete limits for heart rate, weight limits to bear on my arms, and a better timeline of recovery. I am going to have to rein myself in a bit and be especially careful of stressing the chest pectoral muscles and the sternum before they are ready to bear more of a load. This is something I have experienced before, with my hip, but my hip was screwed together. My sternum is held together with glue...!

Also, there is extensive healing going on under and in each pectoral muscle, necessitated on the left by moving a large artery and repurposing it to feed my heart and on both sides with the need to open my chest to access the heart. The total timeframe is about three months (probably a bit more) with possible additional physical therapy once the chest has sufficiently healed. The idea is to get blood moving without stress in the upper body, and using the lower body to deepen breathing and gradually get the heart beating faster over a period of several weeks.

One more PT visit, then I’m on my own. I see Dr. Sternheim, my Cardiologist, at Elmhurst on 10/20. Check shortly after that for another post.

You Gotta Have Heart... Lots and lots and lots of heart...

Out of the Hospital and Into Recovery (10/1 to 10/15)

10/1 — Second day with the physical therapist. Today, a pain volume control decided to click down a few notches. I had to tell the PT to let go of the device (a more robust version of the four-legged walking aid, with wheels) so that I could push it along on my own. Surprise! We got along well after that.

Both of my roommates watched Fox. I watched a good deal of MSNBC in retaliation... :-o Now the bed is empty. Wonder if it will be filled?

Later on — Got a new roommate. Watches sports. African-American guy who called me out in my reaction to a patient in another room yelling for assistance. He rightly asserted that I don’t know what this lady (also African-American) was calling for and how she was feeling, and that I was prejudging her. We discussed this a bit, and I apologized. After that, we had a great relationship. I do know that my reaction was too much tinged by my prejudice about young, “loud-mouths”. It’s always best to stop and think before reacting when you do not know all of the facts.

10/2 — Don’t really remember much about the day. The food is still good, but I’m having trouble eating because of constipation (normal after a major operation). Had a couple of good dumps today, and ate like a horse, getting hungry overnight.

During the day, the social worker and another PT came by (different person) to assess my needs at home when discharged. I waved off the walker which was offered; I felt (rightly) that my balance and strength were such that I could walk without any assistance. I did so a couple of times when evening came — to the bathroom, and taking a good walk around the hallway outside the room.

10/3 — Discharge. In a way, I’m sad to leave, but I’m ready and well-prepared to go home. Ray and his wife picked me up, we stopped by the pharmacy, and then Ray helped me by bringing my heavy backpack (items inside that I never used — five books!) into the apartment and setting it on my freezer. Shame he had to see my dirty nest, but maybe I can get some cleaning done in the next few months.

10/6-8 — Woke up and got up after two days of sleep, punctuated by bathroom runs followed by snacks and bowls of cereal. Actually had chili with Parisi’s bread for a good meal. Got outside to pick up groceries (o.j. & milk). Started a log of health measurements recording temp, pulse, walks, bike spin, and comments. Keeping the comments mostly clinical. Want to have this as a tool for visiting nurse and visiting physical therapist.

Over the next several days, I slept from 14-16 hours every day, leaving not that much time to reply to email and phone calls, eat, and get a decent walk (usually to the grocery). I’m not bored, but I do get concerned that I can’t get back to everyone in a more personal manner. I only ask that everyone be patient; father and sister get priority as does my recovery — food and sleep (14 hrs/day) included!

You Gotta Have Heart

Wednesday, September 30

Well, I had my “procedure”. Why I use that word instead of “major operation” reflects the skill and smooth transitions that I made from operating room to recovery to ICU to the cardiac care unit.

Like the doctor’s said, they took an artery from under my left pectoral muscle and redirected it to the left ventricle of my heart. There was no need to graft or redirect any other vessels.

My heart was stopped for about an hour. They wanted to make sure that my right atrium had sufficient blood supply. Apparently, there were some marks on the right ventricle which could have appeared as a result of lack of blood. However, when the doctors took the clamps off the arteries, the right atrium appeared to look quite healthy.

I was pretty fortunate not to have had more than superficial damage to the heart. Around the areas of the occluded portion of the left coronary artery, there was some surface scarring, but not too thick. Yes, I did have an infarction, a “heart attack” — but I don’t know for sure when that happened. I do know that there was enough blood redirected through the right coronary artery to really minimize any damage to the heart muscle and to promote healing of some damage that did occur.

Recovery has been quite painful. And I don’t know what gets into these physical therapists; mine was absolutely brutal. I know he needed to have me walk, but the way I was feeling, I didn’t need to make a full circuit around the central desk on the floor! Outside of that, I have pain in around my chest, my back, and my shoulders, primarily.

Most of the pain seems to be muscle pain. I’ve been successful in avoiding pulling on the sternum — which was the “access” point to my heart once they sawed it open...! And Mount Sinai has been pretty good about pain management. Today, Wednesday, I was in horrible pain in the morning; I had not kept up with the meds, and my roommate had the television on all night, keeping me awake. Well, I slept some this afternoon, and I’ll probably fall right off when I go to bed.

One of the main bothers has been the amount of mucous accumulating in my throat. I am unable to get it out, and it builds up until I finally am able to expel it. My lung capacity is fairly low right now, because the lungs collapse and don’t fully reinflate for a while. And it hurts to cough!

In fact, it was hurting when I made any motion with my body. I expected that and was somewhat prepared for it, but it was still a bit more pain than I thought I would have at this point. Also, the body’s reaction to the major, big-time surgery that I had is as extreme as the surgery itself. Wrenching the sternum apart and spreading the rib cage open is pretty serious stuff!

With that, I wish you Sweet Dreams and a Good night!

You Gotta Have Heart...

Heart Surgery, Part the Third

Last Friday (9/18), I cycled over to Mount Sinai Hospital, Guggenheim Pavillion, to meet with my surgeon and a Nurse Practitioner. It was the first rather cool day in a long time, and the trip was mostly uneventful and quick with only a hint of angina pain.

Armed with a fistful of questions and items I wanted to cover in my discussions, I of course first had to make it by the person taking my temperature and quizzing me about my possible exposure to SARS–CoV–2. Soon, I was going through the double glass doors into the Coronary Surgery Department at Mt. Sinai. Quite impressive on first sight.

My meeting with the N.P. went quickly. After checking my blood pressure, we discussed some things, mostly about what happens after surgery. I gave him my meds list and list of “questions”, which he took to the surgeon. Not long after that, I was led to a conference room and I sat down to wait for the surgeon. In the next half-hour, I was able to answer some of my questions by reading about open heart surgery in the textbook that was on the table. One would think it was left there on purpose, eh?!

Percy Boateng, M.D. is my cardiac surgeon. He is well experienced, doing many procedures on the heart during any week at Mt. Sinai. Dr. Boateng is a “man of color” — originally from Ghana! We had a wide-ranging conversation, about heart surgery, running, and cycling, among other things. And, of course, we talked about my upcoming surgery.

I was able to view the angiogram, taken during the cardiac catheterization procedure I had. On angiogram, there is little evidence that a left coronary artery even exists — it is either completely occluded or my body has gotten rid of it! Dr. Boateng (and also Dr. Sternheim) concluded that the left coronary artery gradually closed up over a period of time. This allowed the heart to build new blood vessels and reverse the flow of blood in parts of the left ventricle and other places in the heart. As a result, I never had a heart attack, only angina (which I didn’t recognize as such until after I was first diagnosed with coronary artery disease in August). Being active and cycling for moderately vigorous exercise helped.

Our human body is an amazing organism. Its capacity for self-healing and adjustment to injury and dysfunction is equally amazing. But equally amazing is the ability of skilled health care professionals to intervene when the body is unable to self-repair. I have the greatest respect for health professionals; it also helps that I worked as a secretary and word processor for some in the not too distant past at New York University Medical Center. This work has helped inform and guide my decisions about my own health care and feed my ample respect for those who take care of me.

So — I am scheduled for coronary bypass surgery on Monday, September 29. The surgical team will open my chest, hook me up to a heart bypass machine, and redirect an artery under my left pectoral muscle onto the proximal surface of the heart (right on top), replacing the occluded (and possibly missing!) coronary artery. My heart will probably be stopped for all of 15 minutes. (Dr. Boateng mentioned that they could do this with the heart still beating, but I decided, for more accurate placement and suturing of the artery to the heart, that I would like my heart to be stopped during this part of the procedure.)

I am certainly reassured by the skill and knowledge of Dr. Boateng. I’m also assured of a quicker recovery than I thought. My breathing tube will be taken out about an hour after surgery ends. I will be out of bed and sitting in a chair by evening of the same day. The hospital health care professionals will have me walking the next day, Tuesday. And I should be out of the hospital on Friday, or Saturday if they determine that I need one more day of hospital care.

Although cardiac bypass surgery has become quite routine since it was first successfully performed in 1969, this procedure still has its risks. But in my case, death (0.45%) or morbidity (<5.0%) are rather rare. I have confidence that the team from the Cardiac Surgery section of Mount Sinai Hospital are very good at mitigating risks like post-op infection, stroke, aneurism, and others. I am in good hands.

Once I get home, I’m told that I will be able to do a good many things, just as long as I don’t stress my sternum, which is cut through and separated to access the heart. I know from experience with my femoral neck (hip) fracture that major bones take six to eight weeks to heal sufficiently so that they may carry heavy loads again. I can reach, but not stretch. I can carry loads under 5-10 lbs. I can exercise on my bicycle indoors (I have a spinning stand for that), but only put light weight on my hands and arms. I’ve already been advised to begin taking walks every day immediately upon returning home. A physical therapist and a visiting nurse will stop by to check up on me, and they will give me more direction and advice.

It helps that I’m a well-informed patient, asking detailed questions and doing my own research. By doing so, I have been able to clarify issues regarding medication and pre-existing conditions with my surgeon and cardiologist. I am fairly confident that we’ve “covered all the bases”.

Next step is pre-op testing and intake. More about that in my next blog post.

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You Gotta Have Heart...

Heart Surgery, Part the Second

I tolerated the cardiac catheterization procedure very well. Interesting that I hardly felt any sedative that they may have used; I was quite alert during the whole experience.

The angiogram(s) showed that my main coronary artery is completely occluded. However, blood flow has been shifted to the "back door" — collateral vessels now supply 70% to 80% of my heart. I got the sense that there is no apparent necrosis or scarring, only that, because of limited blood supply, the heart muscle isn't moving properly. Their analysis is that I had somewhat gradual occlusion of the artery, allowing the heart to shift the flow to the collateral vessels without undue damage to the heart muscle. However, the flow is not sufficient, and heart-muscle damage is probable in the future. My heart needs fixin'.

There are two procedures that can be done:

►         Another cardiac cath, performing angioplasty + stent insertion. Both doctors told me that there is not a great chance of success and that it probably would only last 5 to 10 years. To me, the integrity of the main coronary would be in question anyway, not having handled any blood flow for possibly a year, maybe longer.

►         Replace the artery by coronary bypass surgery. This would graft an artery from the pectoral muscle area onto my heart, Serious surgery, three- to four-month recovery period, some serious pain but, with a good lifestyle, it will last me much longer and allow me to remain a rabid cyclist. (I intend to live at least to 90 y.o., like my Dad...!)

Guess which one I immediately chose? Yup — coronary bypass surgery. I don't really have any mitigating factors any more that would count this option out. And — they told me I'm still young. Great guys!

Dr. Sternheim already gave me one chance to chicken out, in the recovery room after the procedure. The surgeon will give me another opportunity on 10/20. The surgery would be done at Mount Sinai Hospital, Manhattan (Fifth Avenue). I'm not going to chicken out.

And MetroPlus, my insurance, damn well better not get in the way! If so, they'll have a rabid cyclist, at least two doctors, an N.P., and a fine nurse comin' after them... eh?! New Yorkers: Wear your masks, so I don't have to delay this surgery due to COVID!!!

I have to thank my primary care N.P., Yalto, for her thoroughness, though which she noticed the dysfunctional heart rhythm on EKG.

I'm in good hands with Dr. Sternheim, and I trust him a lot. The doctor heading the surgical team is very experienced in coronary bypass surgery. Dr. Sternheim mentioned that the surgeon probably does ten or so of these per week at Mt. Sinai.

It'll be a great adventure...! As far as pain goes: I'll make sure that I have good pain management in place before the operation. I have experience — my hip fracture and surgery. I had a pain specialist who did good for me. The eventual meds were 2, 3, or 4mg hydromorphone + 75mg Lyrica, which lasted the entire time between doses and relieved serious level 8 pain. Only took a bit of opiate once I got home, and then only occasional OTC pain reliever after that.

Next: A visit with the surgeon and a nurse practitioner in the Coronary Surgery section at Mount Sinai.

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You Gotta Have Heart...

Heart Surgery Time, Part the First

Well, I have problems with my heart. I found out late last year that I had an abnormality in my EKG, which we take regularly because of a medication’s effect on heart rhythm. Because of our current COVID-19 crisis, I was unable to follow up on that until July, when I scheduled a transthoracic echo-cardiogram and a visit to my cardiologist, Dr. David Sternheim.

I might mention that Elmhurst Hospital Center, at which I get my primary medical care in the I.D. Clinic, was the “epicenter of the epicenter”. They were slammed by the COVID-19 crisis, taking more than their share of critically ill patients. By mid-April, the entire hospital was devoted to taking care of COVID-19 patients. I had to reschedule appointments, cancelled during this time, and some of my appointments were (and are still) moved to telephone consultations. Fortunately, by the middle of June Elmhurst was able to resume some sense of normalcy. My heart goes out to all who lived through that crisis, taking care of so many who came down with COVID-19. I did what I could to support the health professionals with encouraging words and some humor as well.

However, I resumed my regular care at Elmhurst, and rescheduled (among many other appointments) the echocardiogram — a type of ultrasound.

On the ultrasound, the "apex" of the heart (bottom of left ventricle) showed that it was not functioning properly. After discussion, Dr. Sternheim and I concluded that it was probably a "silent" coronary event, which occurred some months before the EKG that showed an abnormal heart rhythm. I can still do moderately vigorous exercise; he told me "just don't push it". That, in itself, is encouraging.

I’ll be having cardiac catheterization/angiogram, during which a dye will be injected to show blood flow through my coronary arteries and into the smaller vessels. It’s possible that I’ll also have a stent or two or more inserted to widen a partially blocked coronary artery. The wait won’t be too long — just a couple of weeks.

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High Camp is Alive and Well and Riding a Bicycle

A "Conversation" Regarding "Crash, Not Accident" Article in The New York Times

AstoriaCentric facebook Group

May 31 to June 1, 2016

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Sometimes you just can't make logic work — like this post I made regarding New Your City non-profit organization Transportation Alternatives' campaign to change the nomenclature used to describe those unfortunate, often deadly physical meeting of motor vehicle and pedestrian and/or motor vehicle and bicycle.

Unfortunately, AstoriaCentric member Kara Bell nailed the location where I was born and grew up. Is it possible? Could she actually be a blood relative on my father's sister's side of the family?? I shiver with dread to think that this could actually be true. You'll see why.

In any case, she needs help. Again, you'll see why...

Oh... and I should define "/snark" for those who experience only a big "?" in their mind. It is [fake] HTML code, switching off SNide remARK. (I do have to admit that I've been visiting Daily Kos far too often.)

And, please note: "High Camp" (usually considered a 1970s phenomenon) is not dead.

As Harry Shearer says at the beginning of his program, Le Show: "Here it is!!"

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HALLELUIA!! About time. Transportation Alternatives is very much behind this change of nomenclature, and so am I, having had a recent CRASH (bicycle v. car and/or motorcycle... I don't remember...). There is no such thing as accidents, when it concerns vehicles and pedestrians.

[link to nytimes.com article]

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Kara Bell: That is foolish, if it is an accident that is what it is. If you spill a drink on someone, or bump into someone, are you at fault? No, it is an accident, unless you did so on purpose.

MVS:  It is certainly a crash until law enforcement determines who caused it. Still, few if any vehicles crashes or vehicle/pedestrian incidents are "accidents". There is almost always a causative factor - inattention , equipment failure, alcohol, and more. If you are not "in control of your vehicle at all times" [paraphrase from NYS Motor Vehicle Code] or if you are not actively watching where you are going, then it is not an accident. And if you are not "at fault", it is still a crash and not an accident, because someone else or something else caused it. There is always a cause - it is no accident.

If you spill your drink on someone or bump into someone, you are at fault; you were not paying attention and "in control". If a stain results from a drink, wouldn't you offer to pay to have that stain removed? I hope that you would take responsibility for your lack of attention.

Kara:   No, I disagree, this nonsense is just part of an attempt to get rid of as many car drivers as possible by people who want to have New York City to themselves so they can ride their bikes.

MVS:  Getting rid of automobile traffic is not nonsense in the majority of neighborhoods of a city — one that was only designed for this 1-ton, often dangerous, personal transportation hunk of generous portions of steel, plastic, iron, and other materials (too many of them rare or of energy-intensive manufacture or toxic to humans and animals and plants) by Robert Moses for a short period in the mid-20th Century.

I drive a car on occasion — when I can't carry what I need by foot (you forgot to dis those selfish pedestrians, too!! [/snark]) or bicycle. We got rid of dirty, s**t-producing horses by the 1920s, improving our quality of life and health, only to replace that with a vehicle more detrimental to one's health, our environment and, most importantly, to one's life. Aggressively or negligently driven 1 ton vs. bicycle/pedestrian... I think you know who "wins" hands down (or up or sideways depending on the circumstances of the CRASH ["A" word banned for good reason]).

If you can't bicycle or walk because of disability or age, I can understand you owning and driving a car; public transit is still difficult to use for those who are less able to walk and pedal. But do not accuse us who speak truth of being SELFISH ("people who want to have New York City to themselves"). Talk about nonsense...

Kara:   I am far from too old to bike, I know to do it in a park or upstate. New York is not a city for mixing bikes int the traffic at the rate they have been introduced. You state things that we all know already, but telling us that a crash betweena car and a person hurts the person--well, everyone know that. It does nto mean we have to go along with the agenda of a few who are loud most people in New York, an Astoria dont want the changes being forced on us regarding bikes.

MVS:  We are considerably more than a few — I would say that at least a hundred thousand bicyclists a day deliver, commute, run errands, and exercise and train using the roadways of New York City. We ride on bike routes (shared lane) and "usable" [c.f. NYS Motor Vehicle Code] bike lanes and bike paths, which are great safety improvements and allow ALL traffic to move much more efficiently. We've been around in significant numbers for the entire 26 years that I have lived, walked, pedaled and, yes, also driven through this cosmopolitan city — even through the reign of anti-bicycle Mayor Giuliani.

You are, however, part of a [hopefully] fast-diminishing breed of driver who holds on to the false premise that bicyclists do not belong in the city. Nothing could be further from the truth. Many of us regularly can and do ride AT THE SAME SPEED as motor vehicles in whatever lane is clear and safe on many cross streets in Manhattan and most certainly on the avenues that don't have reserved lanes for bicyclists. And we have the right to do so. To bicycle is to feel a freedom from traffic jams and mass-transit snafus. Often, bicycling saves time getting from one point to another. And Queens and Staten Island and parts of Brooklyn features wide streets and avenue lanes, increasing the pleasure and safety of bicycling.

You say that "upstate" and a park are where bicycles belong. Again, untrue. Have you ever been almost swiped by a vehicle going 55-65 MPH on an "upstate" road? I have. Also, many park paths are reserved for PEDESTRIANS, and bicyclists are limited to the ROADWAYS and reserved paths.

State law states that bicyclists "have the SAME rights and responsibilities" as do motor vehicle drivers. We are required to keep as far to the side of the road as is "possible"; every state in the Union follows these protocols. The NYC Bike Map states many times that if you cannot do so, "Take the whole lane"; in this manner, we remain visible to ALL traffic, including you. Be glad that you can see us. And I hope that you follow the law and leave the lane you are driving in when passing a bicycle — just like you would do passing a motor vehicle or tractor.

Some believe that bicycles do not belong on the roadway, yelling at me and many others to "Get on the sidewalk where you belong"! IT IS ILLEGAL TO RIDE ON THE SIDEWALK. Most of us follow the laws enshrined in NYState's Motor Vehicle Code, albeit sometimes pushing the limit a bit (something I see too many people operating a ton or more of metal also doing). Note that we become a pedestrian the second we dismount, so... well, look at all the pedestrians that cross against the light... o.k.?

We are not going away. You cannot force us to disappear, because the law, the State, and the City administration support our existence and growth. Accept the variety of vehicles that ply the streets of NYC and from here on in strive to CO-EXIST with them. Stop kvetching and accept bicyclists as a efficient, environmentally friendly, health-improving fact of New York City life — certainly in your and my neighborhood of Astoria.

Kara:   Your neighborhood is not Astoria, it's Michigan. I don't just drive, I also walk, and bike. But I see way too many people on bikes runnign lights, going wrong way, and swerving in and out. I know about 100 time smore people in this area than you, and we are fed up with this yupppie BS you and a few ohters are trying to force on people. If you want to ride a bike everywhere, then live out in the country.

MVS:  I grew up in the Motor City, N.W. suburban Detroit, where I learned BOTH to ride a bike AND got my driver's license at age 16. How did you know, my dear?

Is it such a terrible crime to slide through a red light or change lanes like a typical New Yorker driving in New Jersey?? (Uhh... oh... maybe it's the other way around. Are you from Jersey?) If there's such a problem with so many bicyclists, why don't you ask the NYPD 114 Precinct to take charge? Or even better, YOU stand out there with a case of thumbtacks.

How could you know more people than me?? That's illogical... and with YOUR personality...

Yuppie??? I am nearing 60 years of age. Most bicyclists I know, whether here, in Manhattan, in "outer" Queens and Brooklyn, are younger physically and more my age mentally — unlike you.

I'm sorry that I disappoint you, Ms Bell. But, as you can see, I am through and through a New Yorker.

Now go away. /snark

(up one level in this rather shallow thread...)

MVS:  NYC DOT has taken up the "crash" NOT "accident" change for Vision Zero! See the DOT poster on the bicycle parking area on the S.W. corner of 30 Ave and 31 St (before Ms. Bell destroys it and the shelter [/snark} {I'm done.}).

---

Note that the poster and shelter mentioned above are barely three blocks away from my home.

What great fun that was. I not only nailed her to the wall with my logic, I thoroughly destroyed my opponent. I sharpened my arguments supporting the cause of bicyclists everywhere, not only in New York City, and reminded everyone to exercise, keep the environment in good shape, and enjoy the cleaner air minus the smell of horse poop.

Still, there are too many folks out there that try to hold on to badly perceived "good ol' days", and also try to bully their way through to get their way.

Unfortunately, one of them is running for President. Unfortunately, he's a born-and-bred native New Yorker.

What is happening to U.S.?? Will we survive? Should I high-tail it to the Canadian Consulate and try to claim the Canadian citizenship that may be waiting for me?

Stay tuned...

---

Trumped Again

Daily Kos can be a cruel environment. Or... is something else at work? Have we all been Trumped?? Does The Donald have the last laugh???

Last night on Daily Kos, I riffed on the following phrase:

 

... did you mention "small hands", too? ...

The response:

          {cruel, Puritanic criticism... not worth quoting...}

So I had to say:

 

Oh well… sorry. Never mind. Gads!! My attempt at assuming a Monty Python characterization failed horrifically.

It seems that every week yet another Trump deficiency rears its ugly hea… uhh... mmm... becomes apparent.

I’m becoming too influenced by the [pornographic??] low-brow over-the-top nature of The Donald’s discourse. I even glee-fully started to write lyrics — a parody of a Frank Loesser musical, How to Succeed in Real Estate Without Really Trying At All. I’m rotting… please stomp me with a boot and put me out of my misery! (And please don’t hum The Liberty Bell March before you do it.)

And I don’t even have a television! Internet radio streams — and an overactive mind’s eye — and overexposure — and those increasingly annoying ever-present NPR talking heads… dancing around in my dreams… circling around me... Oh God!! Never thought that I’d ever come to call NPR presenters and commentators annoying, but there it is. And, now, I can't get to sleep. Is death by political campaign my fate??

Next, you know: Pigs will fly. It’s a cruel world. Uggh. Blehch! Phffhtth!!

Such a unique political year. Unfortunately, a whole string of unique, back-to-back, one after another — endlessly strung out into the infinite future?? AAAGGHH!!

So — What's next? (henh, henh, {snort} hee, hee, hee!!)

What a woild.

My Christmas Present — Hit By a Motor Vehicle while Bicycling

This past year for me has featured several significant events. And it ended with yet another one.

I got hit by a motor vehicle while riding my bicycle on Christmas Eve. One moment I was riding south around St. Nicholas and 122^nd Street and the next moment — seven hours later — I was in Harlem Hospital's Emergency Room, with two cops standing in front of me asking me to describe my bicycle. Scrambled brains from a concussion don't do well in such a situation, and they left without giving me any information, even their Precinct location.

Fortunately, all scans were negative — multiple CTs, multiple X-rays, and an ultrasound; they were quite thorough. I received exemplary care from hospital staff during my one-day-of-observation stay (the food, too, was quite good!), and I was discharged on Boxing Day. And, if MetroPlus doesn't kick about not getting an NYPD incident report (see below), I'm fully covered for my healthcare.

To this day, I don't know exactly what happened. My discharge papers state my "All Treated Diagnosis" as "Assault by being hit or run over by motor vehicle..." and under "Hospital Course" states in part "...hit from the side by a low velocity SUV." My brain has blocked or has had erased any memory of the incident and the seven hours after it. My belief is that I may have been a victim of "hit and snatch". Whoever hit me probably wanted my bike or its head and tail lamps. But without proof of an investigation and the help of memory, I can't prove that.

I don't believe that an Incident Report was ever filed by the cops which, one of my friends says, is not unusual for bicycling/motor vehicle encounters. Nor was I in good enough condition to quickly follow up on my own once discharged. Also, it doesn't help that it was the Christmas/New Year's holiday period. However, a representative from Harlem Hospital's Patient Financial Services needs an accident report in order to file a no-fault claim, so I need to do some digging. Although the report (if it exists) costs nothing for me to obtain, apparently it is not automatically sent to me. Also, apparently the EMTs did not leave a report at the hospital, which they are supposed to do.

My prized road bike is gone, and I need to replace it, but I don't think I'll be able to retrieve it. But I've pulled out my receipt of purchase from 20 years ago, just in case it has been stored for me to retrieve. However, I'm alive, and thankful that I received good medical care. The only scars I have seem to be a few scratches, a bit of a sore right ear and, unfortunately, another realization that the NYPD needs an upgrade.

There are lots of bicyclists in New York City, most densely in Brooklyn. Queens presents more problems than Manhattan or Brooklyn. I think here (mostly east of me, away from Manhattan) and on Staten Island (the "forgotten borough"!), too many motorists still don't want to share the road. But they are going to have to get used to it — a lot more bike paths, lanes, and routes are planned, and there are more bicyclists doing their bit for the environment, their health, and to save time — really! Bicycling rather than taking transit, bus, or driving often gets you to your destination faster, especially when you're in shape.

New York has been praised as a "bike-friendly" city, comparable to many European cities. It's better than London, believe it or not, which embraced the automobile with a vengeance when North Sea Brent crude oil was discovered. That evaluation, however, does not take into account motor vehicle drivers' attitudes toward two-wheeled vehicles. Bicycles have a right to use the road in much the same way as motor vehicles, with some relatively minor exceptions. Enforcement of traffic laws needs to bear that in mind, accept that, and fight the perception that every bicycle/motor vehicle incident is always the fault of the bicyclist. It is not, period.

During the December holidays, stress seems to get to more motorists who act out on seemingly anything smaller or slower than they want to go. Rather more than a few are from out of town and don't know our bicycle-respecting customs (Tourist drivers! New Jersey drivers! Yuk!!). But that does not exonerate NYC residents who drive; they can be just as bad.

I'm out again, riding my "street bike", commuting and doing errands. It's a heavier, straight-handlebar mongrel, pieced together by a local bike shop so that I could have something that isn't terribly enticing to thieves and which can well take the abuse thrown at it sometimes by the streets of New York City. I won't stop riding a bicycle — still the most energy efficient form of transportation invented. It remains my main source of exercise and well-being — after making music, of course!

HEADS UP!!

Texting While Walking — "Wexting"

I enjoy listening to the podcast, Note to Self, available through WNYC's website. One episode on wexters (those who walk and text at the same time, often oblivious to what is going on around them) elicited a reaction from me, which I put down into words and emailed to them:

 

In your podcast, "On Wexting and Other Woes", I found your guest somewhat too forgiving of wexters and definitely so regarding the issue of an individual's power to make a difference — in this case, getting wexters to stop wexting. She discourages one to follow the advice, "See Something? Say Something", which got me to thinking...

 

Of course, I have a little more power in this regard, being a rabid... er... avid bicyclist. I often encounter wexters who have stepped off the curb and who would have me mow them down if not for my resonant tenor voice yelling, "Heads Up!!" — or the sometimes not-so-polite equivalent. It works every time — usually accompanied with a look of horror from them and a wry smile — even a malicious giggle — from me. (By the way, the bicycle bell may be the "legal" warning device, but is quite ineffective in this case, and many others.)

 

This certainly is different from encountering a wexter in less dangerous situations — say, as a pedestrian, stepping out of the way of an approaching, foot-traffic-oblivious wexter or the rather comical scene of watching a wexter walk into a street-sign pole (certainly a sight almost demanding a giggle or even a guffaw!). However, as a pedestrian there are ways to battle the oblivious wexter and/or help them avoid injury. Here's a couple of methods:

 

•             Stand still; when the wexter is just about to run into you, go "Boo!" — then run like hell. (This could be considered normal eccentric New York behaviour, eh?!)

•             If you'd prefer not to be too eccentric, simply move quickly left or right (your choice) just as the wexter is ready to run into you, then walk on. Do not look back. Most folks have sufficient peripheral vision to get the drift.

•             A rather loud "EXCUSE ME!" often works in the middle of subway stairs. Always make sure to say "Thank you" afterwards.

•             And, of course, always giggle, laugh, or guffaw when a wexter runs into something. The harder the object run into, the more vigorous you response can be. But — If there's blood, call 911... on the victim's smart phone, if possible.

 

By the way, I don't own a smart phone; it would be too much of a temptation for me to become yet another victim of wexting, falling into oblivion, or worse. And I don't use my flip-top-beam-me-up-Scotty cell phone while riding. That and texting is illegal when operating any vehicle, probably even skateboards (skexters??). Although each of us [probably] wishes not to be that silly individual who is always accosting wexters, skexters, or bicyclexters, telling them to cease and desist, the subtle art of New York streetwalking does include a sufficient repertoire of reactions to them which, I guarantee you, will get the point across enough times to buoy the ego of any anti-wexter. See Something?? Well — "Where there's a will, there's a way..." And — have fun with it.

 

A Tale of Ignorance and Stupidity

A Response to a facebook Post

Just after Thanksgiving, 2015, I saw this post on my timeline, shared by one of my FB friends. It went viral, eliciting a half-million shares and at least that many comments on various users' pages. I seem to recall, rather dimly, that this may have appeared one Monday some years ago under the "Metropolitan Diary" subsection of The New York Times. Still, it is as relevant today as it was then and, unfortunately, maybe more so.

---

"The man" has an obvious, pathologic need to control others. He is also ignorant and wasn't educated in a manner that resulted in a respect for people from other cultures, nations (incl. Navajo, Six Nations, Inuit!), and countries. He could have been of any race, but the writer chose "white" to emphasize that there is indeed some sad truth to the stereotype of Caucasian ignorance in the U.S. But please: Let's understand from the get-go that white folks in the U.S. don't have a local, national, or worldwide monopoly on these traits... right?

It's not enough to "wipe the slate clean" periodically or daily, like one facebook comment stated. That's like erasing a hard drive of all of its data. It ignores history and degrades our ability to build healthy relationships with our fellow humans. What is necessary is for all of us to work toward making our society here in the United States (note that I didn't say "America" — a continental label that is much more inclusive!) one where we all embrace knowledge, fairness, inclusion, kindness, and respect, one in which everyone is motivated to constantly reevaluate their own weaknesses and endeavor to correct them (see why you can't "wipe the slate clean"?), and one in which each person — citizen or not — cultivates an inquiring spirit ("the man" would have realized that Mexicans speak Spanish... but, like us, as their national, official language, maybe not as their native tongue!).

This is what I get out of this reported encounter. Fight ignorance. Be inclusive. Explore other [U.S.-resident] cultures. Here in NYC, every country in the world and many sub-cultures within these countries, including our own, are represented, replete with their sometimes rare and "dying" languages. What a wonderful experience — every day! And, even though New York City is extremely rich in racial, cultural, and language diversity, it doesn't mean that other regions of the U.S. are diversity deserts.

Yes, we can encourage or even require everyone to attain a certain level of fluency in English; after all, that is our official language. It brings us all together as one nation and enables us to successfully perform governmental and commercial transactions. But we cannot be "whitewashed" anymore — although we've certainly tried, mostly unsuccessfully, in the past. Whatever we call ourselves — a vast and multicolored mosaic, a melting pot, a smorgasbord, a potpourri — it must be fully realized, preserved, and nurtured, so that we can get around to the important business of building a better world for everyone — now and for future generations.

Now:

►          Turn down the volume.

►          Gather ample data and evidence.

►          Think rationally.

►          Respond not with cynicism, anger, vitriol, or disrespect, but with kindness, respect, levity and, especially, understanding.

►          If we are to have a productive conversation, we need to keep on subject and listen and think before responding.

By and through these logical and thoroughly moral techniques — probably often used by our country's founders in conceiving this nation — we can be a great people, because we can be a sum of all of our parts — one with a good head on our shoulders!

Police Brutality in Long Island City This Morning

I observed what I believe was excessive force from two policemen on the platform, Queensboro Station (Ditmars-bound N, Flushing-bound 7) from ~4:20am to 4:38am.

I got a flat tire on my bicycle, cutting short an early morning ride, so I went to Queensboro Station to take the N-train back to my home. The time was around 4:20am.

When I got onto the platform, a few men who were waiting for the train told me of a man that was being "beat up bad" by two policemen. I went to the east end of the platform and observed one higher ranking officer (lieutenant was what one witness told me, a.k.a. "white shirt") and a uniform officer struggling with a man who was down on the ground. When the man who was being restrained would wriggle (and even when he didn't), the "white shirt" would hit him forcefully with his nightstick. I was at an angle at which I could see the "white shirt" strike the restrained man's torso at where the liver is and close or on the bottom of the left ribcage. This went on for about eight minutes before the uniform officer used his radio. A couple of minutes later, about ten uniform and four plain-clothes officers arrived to assist. The N-train arrived at that time (4:38am), and I boarded the train. The man ("suspect") was not moving, and I heard the sound of a fire truck, possibly arriving at the station.

Two witnesses spoke to me at length, including one who was there when the "white shirt" and the uniform officer approach the suspect. They told me the following:

 

There was some talking to the suspect from the "white shirt", and after a bit the suspect started to walk away. One of the officers sprayed mace toward the suspect at close range and the suspect put his arm up to shield his eyes and tried to run away. The uniform officer put the suspect in a "choke hold" — both witnesses demonstrated and described to me the type that is banned by NYPD policy. Both witnesses recalled that the suspect was hit numerous times and specifically mentioned that the blows to the legs seemed to be hard enough to break them.

I asked another person who was observing the struggle whether there was blood and he said, "Yes — a lot." When the N-train arrived, two witnesses entered the train car with me; Both of them were able to get a good look out the window at the suspect, and both of them said it "looked bad".

One of the witnesses took pictures during the first part of the incident. Some others who were waiting for the Ditmars-bound N-train or the Flushing-bound 7-train saw another person taking a video of the incident, but they said that person got nervous and left.

One of the witnesses also recounted a few times when the "white shirt", who often strolled through the train, would address passengers on the N-train: one he told to move his feet out of the aisleway, another couple of passengers were told to adjust how their smartphones or purses were situated so that "some young guy doesn't come in and snatch it" (quote from witness). The witnesses' impression was that the "white shirt" "must be crazy."

I asked the man who took pictures to send them to me and that I would make sure they got to you and other news outlets. I haven't received them yet, and I don't know whether he will send them, but if and when I received them I will immediately send them to you.

I believe that Queensboro Plaza is served by the 117th Precinct.

I have lived at my address in Astoria for over 25 years.

Personal thoughts: This is the sort of incident of police behavior that I thought I would never witness. However, I also have never been terribly impressed by officers that I have encountered who are stationed in the 117th Precinct. Although I have never seen something as bad as what I saw this morning, I don't trust at least some of those who are work out of that precinct. I also am not happy with their patrol and enforcement priorities, which to me seem to favor roaming around the projects and not preventing crime in my neighborhood. This incident I describe is also not the first over-reactive police event that I have heard of; a couple have occurred in my area, too. Unfortunately, the details have faded from my memory with time.

Let's hope that those who took pictures and the video file complaints, post the photos, and send the photos and their observations to news outlets and civil-rights organizations so that the officers involved can be dealt with and disciplined for their excessive and improper behavior.

The Death of Gary Kaufman — Of Mouse and Man

I was resting in my apartment on a Saturday after having arrived back home from a horrible experience at a "rehab" center. Here's some background: Last Sunday, I had fractured a part of my femur very near the hip socket, had surgery to repair it Monday, and was discharged from the hospital on Thursday (I was treated, fed, and cared for quite well at the former Astoria General Hospital, now part of Mt. Sinai, Queens). So, I was away for six days, and my neighbor, Rich, took care of the cats. When I returned, I noticed a weird stench in the apartment, but couldn't quite identify it. It wasn't the cats, tho'.

I mentioned this to Rich, who was in my apartment helping me. He replied that he had noticed it too, and that it was especially strong right in the area of my front door, where there are two other apartment entrances. Immediately, I was struck dumb with the knowledge of what was coming from my neighbor's door, an apartment next to my bedroom: My neighbor was dead... and had been so for a while. I — and then my neighbors at the other end of the hall — called 911, and after a couple of hours the police came to check it out.

Not long into the New Year of 2015, that neighbor, Gary Kaufman, had called 911 with a health emergency, but EMS and police were unable to enter the apartment and Gary did not come to the door. The superintendent of our building didn't have copies of the keys and (with good reason) didn't think our management would appreciate the door being broken down. The super was asked to peek through an outside window of Gary's apartment off of the fire escape to observe if he was there. However, he could not see Gary in the apartment (or, rather, in the bedroom of his apartment), so the police and the EMS emergency medical technicians came to a decision to leave — which they may do at their discretion and which, I think, could be considered a reasonable action at that time.

Not long after that, I had my six days away as a result of my accident. During my time away however, Rich and I turned out to be not the only ones who noticed the stench that I observed on my return — a stench similar to the smell emanating from a dead mouse, a smell that I had experienced a few times not too long ago in my apartment (partly in thanks to my curious, playful, and rather deadly cats).

But this was no dead mouse, or pile of dead mice. On this second visit, the officer who rings my doorbell knows what several-day-old rotting human flesh smells like. Later, a Sargent arrived and asked if they could go through my bedroom window to enter the apartment from an outside window. This time, I quenched my fear of cats escaping (thankfully, both cats are still with me), and I allowed the super, the super-on-duty, the Sargent, and an officer to use my window to access the fire escape and enter Gary's apartment. A few minutes later, I received word that Gary was, indeed, very dead.

Rich and I later identified his face by a photo that the Coroner's Office crime-scene technician took; even though badly decomposed, I could identify enough of Gary's features to testify in writing that it was he. The Coroner's Office tech mentioned to me that Gary may have had a bad fall, and also mentioned that there was evidence of a table and other items having been broken as a result.

It's going to be a breezy night in my apartment. I have two windows wide open to clear the smell. I will have to keep them open until the security seals placed by NYPD are taken away and the windows next door can be opened to air out the place. Fortunately, the heat is going gangbusters, so I have heat at my feet in bed, and the riser in the bathroom plus the living room radiator will keep the rest of the apartment liveable. But the stench has thoroughly permeated much of the building's structure. In spite of fans, windows, and deodorant spray, it is still noticeable, and later in the year from time to time it will probably seep through the walls, especially on damp days. I hope it will remind tenants and visitors of both the folly and the triumph of human nature.

I very much wish I could have done more for Gary, but he was a very troubled survivor of 9/11, beyond my ability to comfort. I think the last time I talked with him he said he had cancer; if true, we still probably won't know if it at least had a direct physical/medical link to environmental conditions on 9/11. Although Issac, his brother, was unaware of any serious medical illness that Gary may have had, he confirmed that Gary did have a history of mental disorder and disease and mentioned that it existed in rather less severity before 9/11. Gary had already told me that he had been diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder, among other things.

But during the first police/EMT visit, mentioning these things probably didn't help get him aid. Management of my building was more interested in saving a door than in saving a life. I know from personal experience that the owner and the management of my building are more interested in appearances than fixing the hole in my bathroom ceiling, among many other defects in several tenants' apartments. Maybe it could be said that greed got the better of Gary Kaufman both in life and in death. After all, his company "outsourced" its internet technology jobs overseas, and this occurred during the economic depression of the early 2000s. For many years, these two things put Gary at a great disadvantage when trying to find work in his field.

But maybe Gary gets the "last word" after all — all of this does not keep him from being a hero. Please don't be turned off by my use of this word, "hero" — I assure you that I use it sincerely. The following was recalled to me by Issac, his brother, and paraphrased by me below, during what he thinks is the only time that Gary told the whole story of his experience on 9/11 to any friend or family member. I am very grateful to Issac for sharing it with me:

Gary noticed paper flying around outside his window at work on the 80^th floor. To him, it seemed to be more than one might expect of, let's say, a disgruntled coworker tossing stuff out a window (rather hard to do through those narrow WTC-tower windows). Not long after noticing that, he felt an impact and the swaying of the tower. He came down the stairs amid a toxic shower of sheet rock and other debris and met a coworker at the entrance to the building.

Gary's coworker at Morgan Stanley's offices in 2 World Trade Center — who also happens to be a neighbor of Issac and family on Staten Island — was going to go back into the South Tower of the World Trade Center after an "all clear" was sounded on the alarm system. Gary convinced his coworker not to do so, and the two of them started away, then quickly rushed away from the collapsing building. It turned out that the two of them were among the last few who made it out alive from the first tower to fall that day.

If not for Gary's prodding, there would have been one less survivor that horrible day.

On the anniversary of 9/11, we always remember those who died that day in 2001. Many of us who live in and around New York City know someone who died either in the event itself or later as a consequence of that tragedy. I add one more person to my list today — a short but now even more meaningful list.

Gary's action on that day was a seemingly simple and small, yet profound act of loving kindness that is well worth remembering. Maybe, just maybe, recounting it will make the existence that we inhabit in this life a little more tolerable. It could rend our hearts just enough to let the light of Grace enter in and enable us also to do good. I hope this is not the only reason that we remember a somewhat shy, very intelligent, and humble human being. I hope that his brother and relatives and friends will remember all of Gary. Personally, I will strive so to do. It's the right thing to do.

Although the coroner may do some additional investigation, his brother hopes that, in accordance with his family's orthodox Jewish tradition, Gary will be buried tomorrow, Sunday January 25, 2015. May he be remembered for a blessing. May memory of his acts rend our hearts to use our intelligence and enable us to be kind, loving, humble, and giving, buoyed by the boundless grace of The Eternal One.

Rest in peace, Gary Kaufman, where there is no sorrow nor pain — but life eternal.