NFFHC is a part of W. Keith Zoroastrian Enterprises, an international media conglomerate consisting of hundreds of different publications spreading Truth throughout the world. From time to time we will reprint articles from our sister publications which our editorial staff have deemed particularly important or relevant to the modern world and of exceptionally high quality. What follows was originally published as a letter to the editor in the Greensburg Observer, a news and opinion journal located in Greensburg, Indiana. It is the first in a four part series of letters from American citizen and freelance man-of-letters Randy Miller.
To the Editor and Readers of the Greensburg Observer,
In these troubled times it seems like everyone I know, be they coworkers and friends or even my own family, has given up their God-given right to independence. Like our Founding Fathers, I have always prided myself on my ability to accomplish things with my own power and skill, relying solely on my own brain, my own elbow grease, and my own heaping serving of good, old-fashioned American gumption. This attitude has always served me well and is something I have always tried to instill in my children and inspire in my acquaintances. However, the more I attempt to evangelize this critical element of the American spirit to others, the more I realize just how sorely lacking it is in most so-called Americans today.
Take my kids. As became evident one night last month on a particularly dark and lonely stretch of I-70, not a single one of those ungrateful brats knows how to change a blown tire. On top of that, they suggested I call that prissy coddle-factory known to the lazy, teeming masses as AAA. I was even more taken aback than the time I discovered my normally dutiful wife Theresa didn’t know how to change the oil in my car (you bet your behind she knows how now). And my kids and wife are not alone. My coworker Stan conveniently claims not to know how to change the printer paper, half my neighbors call a handy man just to change a light bulb or unclog a drain, and my sister Sue paid the jackals at Geek Squad to install her new computer. My point is, in this age where we pay everyone to do everything for us, haven’t we lost a part of ourselves? My grandfather could build an entire house with a hammer or medium-sized rock, the woods out back, and a saw or well-trained beaver (which he trained himself, by the way). My brother Steve can’t even cook microwave popcorn.
Well I say we take the power back! It’s time we relearn how to do things ourselves, right? A little time invested today will reap rich dividends for the rest of your life, and in most cases I think you’ll find that it’s not as hard as it seems. Let me repeat this, because it’s important: it’s not as hard as it seems. The problem is really just that most of these so-called “professionals” out there that we hire to do things for us want to keep that a secret so decent, hardworking folks like you and me keep having to pay them outlandishly high, endlessly skyrocketing rates to do something we could easily do ourselves.
Take doctors for instance. You’re telling me it takes eight years of education and several more in on the job training to diagnose my kid’s mild concussion and hand me bottle of Tylenol? Oh, you don’t say?! I could have told Clay that myself if Sherry Harper hadn’t rushed him to the Urgent Care Center without my permission the moment he fell out of Mikey Harper’s tree house. No, the real reason they “need” so much education—the secret they don’t want to tell you—is doctors want to keep the barrier to entry as high as possible to keep you and me from trying to take a cut out of their scam. They want to maintain the status quo so they can charge me $5,000 for that “service” they rendered my son. Heck, I buy crude by the barrel and distill my own gasoline. You think I can’t do a little doctoring? I might not have a fancy-schmancy MRI machine like they ran Clay through, but I’ve got plenty of experience with concussions and a gut feeling that consistently outperforms the market. Better yet, I don’t charge anything.
And speaking of doctor education, half those eight years aren’t even attempting to appear job related either. I spent a semester in college living with one of these so-called “pre-med” students. The guy was taking zero medical classes. The closest thing in there was a biology class, so I guess he might have learned how to operate on a fruit fly or something. Heck, he even had a literature class. What, pray tell, does reading Jane Austen have to do with curing the sick? Did he not get enough of that baloney in high school? (And don’t get me started on the government taking my money to fund the brainwashing of our nation’s children at some so-called public school.)
Now, I know what you’re thinking: “Sure Randy, I see your point about the concussion, but what about more difficult stuff like surgery? Don’t you need a professional for that? I mean people could get hurt if you screw that up.” To that my answer remains the same: it isn’t as hard as it seems.
Take removing an appendix, for example. This is a simple procedure every independent-minded, God-fearing American patriot should know. It’s basically the oil change of human surgery—a weekend to learn, a lifetime of savings. And believe me, I know. I performed preemptive appendectomies for all my kids after my wife Theresa got appendicitis and that racket down at the ER tried to charge us more than the value of our double wide to remove it. Nuh uh. I ain’t falling for that again, brother.
As to the how, the only advice I can give you is just practice, practice, practice. If you don’t feel comfortable starting on your family members, go down to the pound and pick up a couple dogs, or better yet catch some strays yourself. Their bodies aren’t exactly the same but it will definitely help you get a feel for mammalian skin and organs. Cats work, too. Our cat Boris had the squirts last week, so I opened him up for some exploratory surgery—you know, just to make sure everything looked alright. Didn’t find anything, but he took a turn for the worst later that week. I guess sometimes there are things that even surgery can’t solve, but it’s really a myth of our nation’s medical cartel that surgery is dangerous. Sure, some folks have died at some points in the past, but what they don’t tell you is that most of those people were very sick to begin with and probably would have died anyway. I mean use your brains for second people: they were in a hospital for a reason. You don’t go to the hospital when you’re feeling fine.
Oh, and before I forget, I have one other piece of practical advice: get some tarps. Don’t be a cheap ass like I was and think you can get away with just putting down newspaper. Surgery isn’t all neat and pretty and McDreamy like on TV. It’s messy as hell. You do get better with practice, of course, but it’s still going to be bloody. I suppose maybe you could tape together some trash bags or something, but I wouldn’t recommend it.
Oh, and another thing: get a decent anesthetic. My first appendectomy on the kids I just gave little Bo a bottle of NyQuil and a couple shots of whiskey. I figured since he’s only four it wouldn’t take much to knock him out real good. It worked, but not perfectly. He was raving like a lunatic for about half an hour before he finally passed out to a surgery-ready state. And trust me, having vomit all over the operating space isn’t very sanitary. Fortunately, I later discovered that an ether soaked rag works just as well. In fact, it’s what they used to use during the Civil War, back when men were men and anyone with a little gumption and good knife could be a doctor. That’s the way to go if you can. The kids recover from it a lot quicker, and I can save some for myself for afterwards (wink, wink).
Oh, one last thing. It’s going to cost you a little extra, but a genuine medical scalpel is worth the money. That first time on Bo I used a steak knife, which I figured was designed to cut into meat, but it’s really a lot more work than you’d think and leaves a nasty scar. It was Kitchen Aid knife, too, so don’t think it didn’t work because I was just using some cheap knife I stole from the buffet. Just buy a damn scalpel. They’re like $15 on Amazon. In a pinch I bet an X-Acto knife might work, too, now that I think about it.
Now, I know what a lot of you are thinking: “Hey Randy, what about the risk of infection doctors are always going on about? Shouldn’t I get some antibiotics, too? You know, just in case?” Let me tell you why you’re wrong there. See there’s something called antibiotic resistant bacteria floating around there right now. The so-called doctors say it’s because the antibiotics just “stopped working” because we’ve used them too much and bacteria are adapting. Baloney. That’s a pretty transparent excuse if you ask me. See what’s really happening—what they don’t want you to know—is that antibiotics never really worked in the first place. Folks were starting to catch on, see, so these conmen doctors are trying to cover their tracks by concocting some bull plop about antibiotic resistant bacteria. Plus, as if that weren’t enough, I’m pretty sure antibiotics cause the autism, too. Just a got a gut feeling about it. If there’s one thing you can trust in this crazy world, it’s ol’ Randy’s gut. You can set your watch to it. Heck, I don’t even own a watch.
The fact of the matter is you don’t need antibiotics or disinfectant or anything besides just good, old-fashioned soap and water. If you do your job right and really give the dining room table (or wherever you perform your surgery) a good, thorough scrubbing, use a new tarp and run your scalpel through the dishwasher, infection shouldn’t be a problem. The human immune system is a wonderful thing, see. Left to its own devices it can fight most infections. So why not let your immune system do the work? It’s particularly strong in kids. That’s why I made sure to do the appendectomies on my young ‘uns while they were still young. Plus, kids heal quickly and give you some room for error, which you’ll probably need your first couple times.
Well, I have so much more to tell your good readers, but I’ll save it for another day seeing as I’m getting near the Observer’s word limit. Let me close by saying this one more time: it’s not as hard as it seems. You have a right to control your own destiny. Together we can save millions on all sorts of things the so-called “experts” want to make you think you’re just too dumb and ignorant to do. Plus, you get the satisfaction of knowing you did it yourself.
Randy Miller, Citizen