How ironic is it that my TransPASS, purchased in advance at a discount as one of my employee benefits, arrived in the mail today?

Well, at least I get to ride SEPTA as much as I please in June. That'll come in handy if I find myself getting temp assignments. Yeah, I'll be reactivating my registration with the temp agencies I was working for. Hopefully I'll find something full-time before long, but who knows?

Actually, this saved me a call to my former employer's benefits department. I know that the money for the June TransPASS was already deducted from my paycheck earlier in the month. So if the June pass didn't arrive, I was going to ask for a refund of the purchase price of the pass.

Good. At this point, I think I'd rather have the TransPASS anyway. I can get a lot of use out of that thing.

I can't help but wonder how they're faring at the front desk today. Actually, today shouldn't be all that bad. Tomorrow, however, will be another story entirely. Not only will there be an unending procession of patients from 6:15 AM (no, that's not a typo) until 4:00, but there will be dozens of charts that need to be prepped for Tuesday (Monday's a holiday). Mondays, Tuesdays, and Fridays are extremely busy days, without exception, because those are the days when the most doctors are in the clinic seeing patients.

Last Friday, the temp PSR worked until 10 PM getting Monday's charts ready. And that was WITH a full compliment of staff at the front desk. Tomorrow, the temp has the day off and the front desk will be shorthanded to boot. Someone's going to have to find time to prep Tuesday's charts, in among the time spent checking patients in and out, doing the billing, and manning the phones. I hope the pointy-haired-manager who is my ex-boss's boss is there until MIDNIGHT prepping charts. It would serve her right for not at least waiting until the vacationing employees returned to work before dropping the ax.

You know, I thought I'd feel worse than this after losing the job. Which, as should be clear in the past couple months' worth of posts, I have felt was only a matter of time before it happened. Maybe the long amount of advance warning that I was a dead PSR walking helped to soften the blow. Maybe the latest bout with depression (yes, I've been to the doctor) is actually playing in my favor, as one of the hallmarks of depression is my near-inability to feel anything, good or bad.

But maybe I'm not as upset as I expected because that this job's stress was the direct reason why I've felt so sick and missed so much work time since March. And that source of stress is now gone. No more spite brigade searching for things to complain about. No more Doctor Evil complaining about my phone message, while finding a nearly-identical message from my colleague to be perfectly acceptable. No more feeling that I had to be perfect, every day in every way, so there'd be nothing for them to pick apart. No more feeling that no matter what I did, someone'd find a fault in it anyway. No more politely declining offers of help because they were motivated by the desire to tell the rest of the department, 'Look, she can't even handle her own work, I have to do it for her". No more limiting myself to asking questions of only certain people because the rest of them would tell the world, "She's so stupid, she didn't even know ___". No more staying until 7 PM on a Monday, Tuesday,
or Frid

Is it any wonder why I was getting migraines? Why I threw up at work and got carsick on the bus on the way there and/or on the way home? Why I missed more sick time in the past two months than I've ever missed in my life, minus the short-term-disability I was on when I dislocated my kneecap?

No freaking wonder they went through three people in six months, prior to hiring me last year. If the other three people had to put up with this nonsense, I can't blame them for bailing. That is, *IF* they actually bailed, rather than getting hounded to death and fired.

And no freaking wonder that instead of being as upset as I'd expected I would be on The Day After, the primary emotion I'm able to generate feels more like relief.

Well, they did it. The ax dropped today. My desk is cleared out and I'm on my way home.

It's odd. I figured I would have until at least Friday before being told of termination, which I've expected for a while now. Why? Because we are short-staffed due to two (count them, TWO) people on vacation, we have a a brand new manager who's been here for less than three weeks, AND the temp PSR we have had helping us since we're short-staffed has Friday off. Friday is one of our heaviest workdays because we have at least five doctors who work only on Fridays. That's on top of the two or three docs who are there more than one day per week. Friday would have been a zoo even with me there. It's going to be a bleeping nut farm now for sure.

And the boss two levels above me, who is a female version of Dilbert's pointy-haired manager, did this to herself. The loose filing is backed up halfway to the ceiling (did I mention we're short-staffed?) and it will be coming in in droves over the next two days.

And now we're -- oops, I should say THEY'RE going to be short *three* people. During which time I hope my ex-two-levels-above-me manager curses herself roundly for firing me a few days too soon. She couldn't have timed this worse if she'd sat down and PLANNED a way to ensure that my departure would be disruptive to the workflow.

I feel sorry for the new manager, my former immediate supervisor, who is a genuinely good person and doesn't deserve to be stuck in the middle of this. To her, to her predecessor, to the records room employee, and to some of the doctors (MAM and GYD spring to mind), thanks. To the spiteful ones, doctors and non-doctors alike, My goal is to forget your names, what you looked like, and the havoc you've wreaked on my physical, mental, and emotional health for all these months.

Tomorrow I'll file for unemployment.

If only we'd get 777 in an Atlantic City casino instead of in an arcade! This was good for the bonus of 424 tickets at Dave & Buster's. :o)

Oh, and one more thing.

For years, I had a stock answer when someone asked, "How's it going?" It was, "So far, so good".

Then came the day I got the news that I was being downsized. For the next few weeks, I just couldn't bring myself to answer "So far, so good" when it feel like things were good at all. So my new response was, "I'm hanging in there".

Since that time, I've used "So far, so good" when things are going at least OK and "Hanging in there" when things aren't so great.

Today I have begun using yet another alternative, since things don't feel like they're even a little bit good and I'm certainly NOT feeling like I'm hanging in there. It's "Argh, don't ask!"

Just so you know, it's probably just a matter of days before I get pushed out of this job.

I spoke to the new manager this morning. The same complaining people have not stopped, which I figured would happen. One in particular, the doctor I ranted about in a post some weeks ago, specifically brought a message I took to the attention of the new manager. It was from a person requesting a new-patient appointment for her daughter. Because this doctor doesn't normally see new patients, we have to take a message with the pertinent information and leave it in a special folder in the doctor's inbox.

I took the message. I put it in the dr.'s inbox. At the time, I noticed another message from the SAME PERSON dated four days earlier, taken by the other front-desk person who works with me.

My note had info that hers didn't have. Her note had info that mine didn't have. Both mentioned that the patient's family doctor (mentioned by name) had spoken to OUR doctor about taking the patient on.

Our doctor complained to our manager that my note didn't have enough information in it. HELLO... She already had the same info four days earlier in the other note, PLUS according to the other note and mine, our doctor had already been apprised of the situation by the patient's own doctor. *AND*, what's more, our doctor did agree to see the patient, and the appointment was made yesterday.

I was able to document the fact that the older message existed because our message pads have carbon copies of all messages and we save them for several months before shredding them.

I got my old message pad that included messages from May 8, and turned to the copy of my message. Then I went through the stack of old message pads until I found my colleague's old pad containing her May 4 message. I put both pads on the manager's desk.

Next up: I have been having migraines, most decidedly stress-induced, at least once or twice a week for the past month. I called out sick about two weeks ago, and got sick again on Wednesday. It's two separate "occurrences", apparently, and that might count against me. I want to know how the F a person can be penalized for actually being freakin' SICK. I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow anyway, so I will get documentation that I am seeking treatment from him for migraines. (And acid reflux, since I woke up a few nights ago to find that there was... how can I describe this? Digestive backwash in my esophagus. Yuck, I know. If you think READING it is gross, try LIVING it.) If nothing else, it should prove that there is, in fact, a medical issue going on.

After I had the meeting with my manager, I went in the rest room and vomited. I suppose that's better than the alternative form of digestive rebellion that I've occasionally experienced due to stress. I don't think I can handle this stress anymore. If the health system lets me collect unemployment benefits, I might actually survive this whole experience with the remnants of my sanity and what's left of my digestive tract intact.

Geesh, even the Hell job at the Nameless Nationwide Department Store didn't actually bring on active nausea. Migraines, yes. Barfing, no.

I've had it with EVERYthing right now. Honestly HAD it with everything. The only reason I'm even attempting to eat this sandwich right now is that if I don't, the headache might come back. I've seen enough of those this week, and I know that not eating can cause them to happen. That goes double for the fact that I might as well have skipped breakfast, considering that it didn't stay around long enough to actually provide nourishment. If I get nauseous, at least all I have to do is, um, let my innards jettison unwanted material and the nausea will go away. If the headache comes back, heck only knows how long it'll last.

So anyway, if I have bad news to post regarding my job status in the next few days, don't be shocked. *I* will be shocked if I DON'T have bad tidings before long.

Oh, I love the internet. Love love love LOOOOVE the internet.

This afternoon while I was at work, out of nowhere I got an earworm. It was a song I haven't heard in quite a while: And the Glory of the Lord from Handel's Messiah.

I had the song on the brain in a major way, to put it mildly. And, having looked up "earworm" online a couple years back, I remembered reading that one way to get "rid" of an earworm is to listen to the song completely, from start to end. So for that reason, and also because I just plain like the music, I had a major need to listen to the song. The more time passed, the more I neeeeeeeeded to hear the song.

Hours passed. 5:30PM arrived. I came home from work. And my need to hear the song continued, unabated.

Unfortunately, do I own a copy of it that's easily located? No. I have a cassette tape with selections from Messiah on it, somewhere, but no clue where the tape has gotten to. Even if I'd found it, I'd have to play the fast forward/rewind game until I tracked down the song ON the cassette.

By 9:30 PM, I was ready to climb the walls for the lack of a way to listen to this song. And then the idea crossed my mind, "I wonder if there's a way to listen to the song online? SURELY someone's uploaded it to some web page somewhere."

Good old Google. No sooner did I enter a few terms into my favorite search engine, than I located this page:

http://www.peabody.jhu.edu/743

They give permission to download the music on their site for personal use, for free. HOO-freakin-RAY! That's just what the doctor ordered!

I downloaded And the Glory of the Lord and listened to it a few times.

My earworm is gone. I'm all better now. *PLUS* I now have some MP3s of selections from Messiah, to boot. Which I got for free. Legally. Within minutes of my clicking "search" on google.com.

Did I mention that I love the internet?

P.S. "And the glory, the glory of the Lord, sha-aa-all be-ee-ee-ee re-ve-eal-ed..."

Uh oh. I'd better listen to that MP3 again. ;o)

To: The world in general
Re: Hyphenated last names

OK, that does it. I can't withhold my question anymore. WHY is it that people with short names never hyphenate them? Do we get patients in here with easy names, like Fox-Day? NO. Of course not. The people who hyphenate their last names have to be the ones with about two zillion letters in BOTH halves of their name. I can't use examples of real patients' names, obviously, but I can think of some surnames of people I know (or know about) that could serve as equivalent examples of what we are dealing with on a daily basis at the front desk.

Imagine asking someone who is making their first appointment in your clinic to spell their last name, and hearing "Alabrudzinski-Radivojevic" come through the telephone. "That's hyphenated. Alabrudzinski HYPHEN Radivojevic". You think it's impossible for names like that to exist? Believe me, it isn't. I know.

So here are some rules of thumb for you people out there who are thinking of hyphenating your last name.

First of all, if the combination of names has more than six syllables or 20 letters, DON'T COMBINE NAMES. Pick a name and freaking stick with it, but don't try to stand with one foot in both camps. There are only 26 freaking letters in the alphabet, for Pete's sake. Why should someon's last name have more than that?

Second of all, listen to this programmer when I tell you that many, MANY software programs will allow a maximum of 20 letters for a surname. So what's going to happen? Your name will be truncated, that's what will happen. This will, and I do mean WILL, cause problems. For example, it's a colossal PITA to have to search online for doctors' referrals without having the EXACT patient's surname as it exists in the computer system. So of course, here I sit typing in "Alabrudzinski-Radivojevic" into the Navinet system, and no referrals are found. Why? Because letters have been truncated from the patient's surname in the Navinet system, and therefore I should be searching for "Alabrudzinski-Radivo" instead. Well, how in blazes am I supposed to know this? So time is wasted calling the primary care doctor and asking them to create a referral, when in fact they have already done so and the problem is that we can't FIND the thing.

Then there's the other bugaboo regarding computer software: not every system accepts hypens. Some programs will give an error message to the data entry peon who is trying to enter a hyphenated name into their computer system. So what's a peon to do? They might use a space (Alabrudzinski Radivojevic") or they might run the names together as one word "Alabrudzinskiradivojevic"). Did I mention that if you don't know the exact way that a name is spelled in the computer system, some search functions will return "no results found" when you try to search for it? So if you insist on combining surnames like this, PLEASE try to keep track of whose system spells your name which way. This will save countless amounts of time for yourself and for whomever you're doing business with.

Last, have you ever tried to write a 30-letter surname on a receipt? Have you? Well, you haven't lived until you have received a copay from Alpharetta Alabrudzinski-Radivojevic, and have had to handwrite a receipt for said patient. Including the fact that you have to fit her entire name into the amount of space that's physically alloted for a NORMAL length first and last name. Yeah, right. Good luck with that one. It can be done, but not if you actually want to be able to READ the name without employing a magnifying glass.

Anyway, so that's my take on hyphenated names. My blood pressure will, I hope, return to its normal level at some point later today, after I've recovered from dealing with the Hyphenated Name from H*ll.

Disclaimer: All three of those names exist: Alpharetta, Alabrudzinski, and Radivojevic. However, to the best of my knowledge they do not all belong to the same person. Thank goodness. If this combination matches the actual name of someone living or dead, then A) it's a coincidence and B) they have my utmost sympathy.

Wheeeew. I just had a huge exercise session.

It might not have LOOKED huge. It might have looked like rollerblading around the block one time.

Don't let that fool you. I made the error of starting BEHIND the house, where the common driveway for our whole block is. (Our street is set up so that cars can park behind the houses, or pull into the garages in the houses that haven't remodeled and gotten rid of the garage.) The pavement behind the house is most definitely old, put down back in the day when they used to mix the cement with gravel. This paving has some of the largest gravel I've ever seen used in paving. I don't know if the intent was to provide extra traction for cars, or maybe the concrete has worn away a little bit over time and the gravel has been left to protrude markedly from the pavement surface.

Whatever the reason, the end result was that I was trying to skate over a surface that is so rough, the wheels would barely move. I went to take a skating stride and the moment I ended my forward push, my foot just... STOPPED. Dead. I was this-close to pitching forward and landing on my nose.

Mark had his bike and was trying to follow along behind me. He wound up practically walking while seated on the bicycle, because I was progressing at a snail's pace. It was an absolute fight against gravity and friction to make my way to the driveway that runs perpendicular to the street, the one that lets cars access the driveway that runs behind the houses from the middle of the block. It wasn't much more than a half block's worth of distance, but it felt like I'd skated a mile uphill through sand. Every muscle from my knees downward was killing me.

Note to self: remember those stretching exercises you're supposed to do prior to skating? DO THEM next time.

Eventually, and with only two spills, I managed to get off the gravelly pavement of the common driveways, and onto the sidewalk that's in front of the houses on my street. FINALLY. From then on it was clear sailing... Er, skating. So we headed up to the corner and back. By that time, my lower back had joined the chorus of complaining muscles. Did I mention I forgot to do any stretches before heading out to skate, and was regretting that omission heartily?

So I decided to call it an evening. I went in the house (by way of the FRONT door -- no way was I going to deal with that frightful pavement surface behind the houses again), and told Mark, "Let's do this tomorrow".

I'm all about getting back into a routine of exercise. It's high time I did that anyway. But next time, we start with stretches and we skip using the back door. I'm going out the front door next time. :o)

P.S. My two legs, my lower back, and my right arm are all reminding me enthusiastically to stretch next time prior to going out. I think I'll take their advice.

OK, here's a perfect example of BAD product placement.

I'm watching a program on the Discovery Channel called, "The Iceberg That Sunk the Titanic". It's showing how the iceberg was formed and moved down into the North Atlantic, much farther afield than an iceberg would've been expected to be, and met its destiny on April 14, 1912.

Prior to this, there was another program showing people involved with the movie "Titanic", as they went below the surface and used an unmanned remotely-controlled camera device to view the rooms of the Titanic wreckage, interspersing the rooms as they look today with photos of the rooms when they were built, and the scenes in the movie where those rooms were shown.

Basically, we're all getting a long and detailed look at the remains of a sunken cruise ship, as well as stories of some of the people who were known to have died in the tragedy.

So what I want to know is this: WHAT IDIOT thought it would be a good idea for Carnival Cruise Lines to purchase commercial time during this program? HELLO? Talk about bad timing! While we're at it, why not have McDonald's advertise during programs about how eating fast food causes heart attacks? Let's see some airline ads during a program about plane crashes, too. Or Amtrak ads during a program about train derailments.

DUH... I sincerely wonder what people are thinking sometimes.

OK. So, the bad news is that I didn't get the file clerk job I interviewed for. The practice manager believe I'm way overqualified for the position.

The GOOD news is that in the same practice that had the file clerk job opening, they now have TWO Patient Services Representative openings, neither of which job was open two weeks The practice manager who interviewed me recommended that I apply for the PSR jobs instead, so I will.

In the meantime, all I'm willing to say in the blog about the people making trouble for me in the Rheumatology clinic is that they're 2/3 of the way toward causing me to lose my job. I had a meeting with HR and my manager (the one who's on my side in this mess). I'll be filing some official paperwork of my own. It might or it might not undo the damage that these people have already done to me, but if nothing else it will show that I disagree with some of what's gone on so far.

I do have to get out of this job. I can put up with a LOT of stuff, but one thing I can't, and won't, abide is spite. I refuse, and I do mean REFUSE, to put up with spitework day in and day out. Better for me to find a place where I'm NOT going to be inundated with stress-related digestive problems and insomnia issues. I don't need this aggravation.

Enough ranting. I have to finish proofreading the minutes for tomorrow's Phan Club general meeting. TTYL.

I was calling the appointment confirmations yesterday; that's one of my daily tasks. One patient's answering machine greeting was slightly garbled. Either the audio tape was worn out, or the person's diction was less than precise; in any case, what it sounded like was a request for the caller to "leave a message at the weep".

Well, after the news that I received this morning, that's how I feel: like weeping. Jeff Lamana, the founder and webmaster of flyersphans.com, an online community of fans where I've posted for the past several years, lost a two-year battle with cancer this morning. We've known for a few weeks that this might be coming, but when my cell phone rang this morning with the call bearing the sad news, it was still an immense heartbreak.

To visit the online community that Jeff founded, visit the flyersphans.com link on the left-hand side of this page. To view the discussion thread that broke the sad news to the board, go here.
Actually, that's a great link to follow if you want to get a clear idea of how much Jeff meant to a tremendous number of people. We've lost a good man today, and the world is a lesser place for it. Heaven, on the other hand, has just improved with this latest addition to its population.

I'm posting a photo taken in happier times: the flyersphans.com get-together at the Phantoms game on November 5, 2004. Jeff is the tallest person in the picture, standing just to the left of the Flyers logo.

We'll all miss you, Jeff! Pray for us till we meet again.

And if anyone needs to get in touch with me, leave a message at the weep. :o(

Here's the start of my live coverage for today's road trip with the PPPC to Binghamton. (Pics won't be included because the Blogger Gremlins are acting up.) This could prove interesting, because I was out sick from work yesterday and my symptoms have not abated. But I've got a prescription for what ails me and I'm medicated. I'm hoping to sleep a lot in the bus, though it does have an on-board rest room so that's one potential crisis averted.

So here's hoping for all good news today. Let's go, Phantoms, 'cause tonight, the Phan Club's coming to cheer you on! :o)

Edit: Well, as you can see, there was a problem with the live posting. I couldn't get any pics to post. GRRRR... oh, well. Hopefully the issue with posting of photos via mobile phone will be straightened out. This is two times in a row that I've run into error messages when I've tried it.

So I have an appointment in the making for 3/21 at 2 PM, to talk to that other department manager about the file clerk position.

But she thinks I'm way overqualified.

HERE WE GO AGAIN.

I'm either overqualified, underqualified, have too much of the wrong kind of experience, or not enough of the right kind of experience.

And when it's a race to get another job in the health system ASAP before I get pushed out of this one, which could happen in a month's time because of all the sh-t that's gone on behind my back, I don't feel like I have time to waste.

If the Witches of Eastwick win the race, not only will I be out of a job, but there'll be a black mark next to my name, something I've *never* had in my life. Ever. Which might preclude my getting a transfer or staying in the health system.

I've had a migraine for thr past five hours. If I don't get carsick on the bus ride home, it'll be a miracle.

P.S. Don't worry. I never, EVER have accessed my blog from the work computer, not even once. That's all I would need would be to give the vermin THAT ammunition, of this web address in my internet history. I'm posting on my lunch hour from my cell phone, which has web access.

OK, I have officially had it with the human race.

First of all, last night I got home from a Phan Club board meeting to a call from my bank, regarding my check card. I called the 800 number, only to find that law enforcement and the FBI provided the bank with a set of card numbers that'd been part of a security breach and might have been stolen. My card fit that bill, though there's been no untoward activity relatetd to it. So I ordered a new card, which should arrive in the next several days, and provided a new PIN number to go with it. Meanwhile, the bank will scrutinize any activity that comes from said card.

So that's all a bad thing in some ways, a neutral thing in other ways, and a reminder that some people are dishonest and rotten.

How nice to have that sort of reminder the night before I came in to work today, and found out that the wheels of the Coworker Spite Machine have never really stopped turning. There is an all-out campaign, by the same three people who've driven out eight previous people in my position, to ruin my name. They've apparently been going out of their way to write to my boss's boss about everything -- if I make a mistake, even a trivial one, they email her. If THEY mess something up, and there's no precise way to prove that it was one of them and not me that caused the problem, they send an email that I did it.

So far, my boss has been sticking up for me in the face of this. However, SHE is on the verge of transferring out. God only knows who'd replace her or whether they'd join in the scapegoating... or whether they'd have their own candidate that they would like to get into the health system, so creating an opening at my position would suit their needs just fine.

So I've put my name in for another position at Neighborhood Hospital, the one where our Secondary Clinic is located. It pays a few dollars an hour less but I don't care. What's the point of earning more and spending it on TUMS and blood pressure pills? I don't need this BS. I will leave the Primary Rheumatology Practice to the Gang of Three and find myself a place in the health system that's not filled with spite.

If you see this post reasonably soon after it's written, send some prayers my way. I could find out as soon as the next few days whether this will pan out. I hope it does, because I need to get the bleep away from these people. Sooner rather than later, for my health and theirs ('cause I have the temptation to throttle some of them right now, thinking about how hard they've worked to spite me behind my back, while being friendly to my face).

I really, really have the temptation to just say "People S*CK" and go home *cough cough* "sick" right now. I honestly do. But I won't. I'm not going to screw my boss over like that, since we're already shortstaffed today.

So much for doing Live Coverage of Bunco night! It turned out to be a protracted dice game, during which I was interpreting non-stop for Joe J. That made it impossible to stop and take a pic or post. It was fun, though, and I met a bunch of new Deaf and hearing people.

To my great delight, one of those people is the widow of my late and much-missed first ASL instructor, Jack M. I knew his son was one of the coordinators of Bunco night, and I'd intended to approach him after the event was over to give him my regards. But one aspect of Bunco Night was moving from table to table, and one lady at the final table we sat at indicated Jack's son on stage and identified herself as the mother of the person who coordinated Bunco Night. I was able to give both her and her son my regards for how much I had enjoyed starting to learn ASL with Jack as my instructor.

(Found in my draft copies. Publishing as is.)

Last night's event was at the Elks Lodge in Brigantine, NJ (just outside Atlantic City), but the actual event was a meeting of the Sons of Italy chapter in Brigantine. My uncle Pat, as well as my Aunt Rita and their son/my first cousin Joe, were and are strongly involved in both groups. I don't know how often it is that the two groups join forces like this. But, given the depth of the involvement that Uncle Pat, in particular, had with both groups, I can't say I'm surprised that they worked together last night in this event that honored him.

You know, I'd been aware for a long time that Uncle Pat did a tremendous amount of work for the community, and commanded a great deal of respect. But he was never the kind of person who sought personal fame or recognition for things he did.

So when my parents and Mark and I went to Brigantine to see Aunt Rita, as well as Joe and his wife Chris, the day after Uncle Pat passed away last year, and I saw that flags at every official site on the island were at half-mast, my first thought was that he must have REALLY gone out of his way to downplay the number of things he did, even moreso than I'd realized.

It turned out that Aunt Rita was at Joe and Chris's house, so we headed there. And we proceeded to partake in the planning of the funeral Mass, as well as receiving the condolences of multiple friends and acquaintances who'd heard the news and came to pay respects.

I met so many people that day, I couldn't possibly list them all. But when one of the callers was Congressman LoBiondo of NJ, I thought again how I'd never REALLY realized the depth of Uncle Pat's involvement in civic affairs. I'd always known, and could have recited back to anyone who asked, "Yes, my uncle does a lot of work for the community and is very involved in politics", but I hadn't ever *really* stopped to analyze what that meant. It just WAS, kind of like the sky just IS blue and water just IS wet.

The flags on Brigantine stayed at half-mast right through the day of the funeral. At which point, we had a police escort from Brigantine all the way to the cemetary in Mays Landing. I was able to raise my head up out of my own personal cloud of grief, just enough to understand that there was a VERY large group of people who were grieving Pat's loss in their own way, not as a family member, but as a friend and colleague.

So when I found out that the Sons of Italy lodge to which he'd belonged had decided to change its name in his honor, I wasn't surprised. There are times when people can't help but acknowledge the work that someone else has done, and they NEED to find a way to pay their respects. That, I think, is the sentiment that led them to change their charter last night.

Several people spoke, including my ccousin Joe (who is currently the president of the Sons of Italy chapter). He said that when the family had first been approached with the idea that the lodge wanted to take on Pat's name, they politely declined. He wasn't about getting individual notice, but about teamwork, and they didn't believe he'd have wanted to be singled out in this way. So of course, the person who'd proposed the idea brought it up at a meeting when Joe couldn't be on hand to preside, and the motion passed resoundingly. :o)

Congressman LoBiondo was on hand and spoke. The Mayor of Brigantine and the Exalted Ruler of the Elks also took the microphone briefly. They all made a point of emphasizing how much Pat had meant to them personally, how hard he'd worked, and how much he's missed.

Then they had the unveiling ceremony of the lodge's new banner. It was done very nicely -- the old banner was on display, and under it was the new one with the new name on it. The old banner was lifted up and folded back to reveal the new one, which was then on display for the rest of the night.

It was very nice. Then the Sons of Italy had its installation of new officers, including Joe for another two-year stint as President. his wife Chris as first VP, and my Aunt Rita as the chair of the Sunshine committee (VERY good choice, if you ask me).

They also had a catered dinner and dance afterward... The food was outstanding and I liked the music, too. It was bittersweet to know that the reason for all these things happening was that we'd lost Uncle Pat last year. On the other hand, it's gratifying to know how highly regarded he STILL is by so many people.

We had one other significant event in the family yesterday, unfortunately. I know I posted some months ago about my elderly cousin Connie, who'd been diagnosed with renal failure but refused dialysis, as is her right. She passed away yesterday morning. I'd been told on Monday that she was fading fast, and that the doctors had given her about four more days. They were right. :o( Funeral arrangements are still pending, but I hope there's something at night so we can go.

Sigh. It's not easy to reconcile with the fact that the people who have Always Been There throughout my life are not always going to CONTINUE to be there. :o( I hope they're looking down and smiling when they see us, as we keep on keeping on.

Blogger's mobile feature had Gremlins tonight, so I couldn't post photos during the event. I'm about to find out if it's accepting text only posts, when I attempt to send this post as we head home on the AC expressway.

I'll post photos when I get home. It was a great night that honored a very deserving person, is what I'll say for now.

We're about to arrive in Brigantine for a ceremony to honor my late Uncle Pat. He was very involved with the Sons of Italy and the Elks. Now, a year after his passing, there's a ceremony at the Elks lodge, as the Sons of Italy lodge is changing its name to the Pat Campitelli lodge. I'll see if I can do some decent Live Coverage of the proceedings, for the family members who can't be there.

Never mind, WAY too busy for updates. More later, TTYL!