- The parable of the Good Samaritan is a parable told by Jesus in the Gospel of Luke . In the parable, a Jewish traveler is beaten, robbed, and left half dead along the road. First a priest and then a Levite come by, but both avoid the man. Finally, a Samaritan comes by.
- a person who voluntarily offers help or sympathy in times of trouble
- The Good Samaritan! is a fictional weapon from Mike Mignola's Hellboy comics (although it is only named as such in the film version). Utilized by the title character, the Samaritan was given to Hellboy by the Torch of Liberty when Hellboy was twelve.
- A city in western Oregon, on the Willamette River, home to Oregon State University; pop. 49,322
- Corvallis is a city located in central western Oregon, United States. It is the county seat of Benton County and the principal city of the Corvallis, Oregon Metropolitan Statistical Area, which encompasses all of Benton County.
- A hospice, esp. one run by the Knights Hospitaller
- A charitable institution for the education of the young
- a medical institution where sick or injured people are given medical or surgical care
- A hospital, in the modern sense of the word, is an institution for health care providing patient treatment by specialized staff and equipment, and often, but not always providing for longer-term patient stays.
- An institution providing medical and surgical treatment and nursing care for sick or injured people
- a health facility where patients receive treatment
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Artsy Snic Version of Posey Safety Belt at the Hospital
There will be a story with this set as soon as I can get it written, and upload these pictures which I took while in the Hospital at Good Samaritan Regional Medical Center in Corvallis, Oregon.
FALL OCCURRED IN THE SPRING
That’s right; fall occurred in the spring. Not the kind of fall like a beautiful autumn, but the kind of fall like Humpty Dumpty. The “splat” type of fall, which must have been painful for him. It was surely painful for me.
Let me digress a bit. I already have severe arthritis in both of my knees. I was very close to having the Orthopedic Physician’s Assistant refer me to the Orthopedist for knee replacements. The assistant had already seen me for seven to nine visits or so, and a series of Orthovisk® shots, which did not help me. I understand they are a great help to some people, but I wasn‘t one of them. He told me something I was completely unaware of. He said my teeth were bad, which is true. I have upper dentures and only one real tooth in my mouth. The bottom teeth except the one I just mentioned are all rotted away. They didn’t rot completely away; there are still parts of them in and below the gum line. He said they would all have to be surgically extracted before I could have knee replacements done. I asked him, “What do my teeth have to do with my knees?” He said infection can easily set in the rotten teeth and go to the knee or cause problems with my heart, major problems like death. Thus the reader can understand how I arrived at the title for my photo set about my hospital stay…The Knee Bone’s Connected to the Jaw Bone, Huh?
I have been walking around with very painful knees for quite awhile now, and I cannot afford the $1,600 to $2,000 to have my teeth surgically extracted. I already paid a dentist $180 for an appointment and a Panaray® X-Ray, over a year ago, just thinking it would be nice to finally get some lower dentures too. He split town, taking or disposing of his equipment and his files and x-rays. That $180 is long gone for me. I cannot recover the old x-ray. Even if I did recover it, some new dentist would probably say it was out of date.
Medicare, which I am on, will pay for the two knee replacements, but here is the rub. They will not pay for dental. I have been in a surgical limbo with all the free pain I can stand.
That is the background information probably needed for this little story to be understood. There will be some OMG moments and some laughter. If it were a TV show, they would probably advertise, “You’ll Laugh; You’ll Cry; You’ll Sell Your Chickens; You’ll Call Your Congressman, and You’ll No Doubt Charge Your Cell Phone!”
That brings us to Thursday the 15th of March, 2012. My daughter called to see if I could and would watch Rose all day Friday the 16th , as she had forgotten that she had signed up to be chaperone for her daughter, Anna Leigh’s, school field trip. It was going to be quite a bit out of town, the other direction from where I live. It was to be a special day. I wanted to be their hero; so I said sure. Some of you have seen Rose, the Hungarian Vizsla puppy among my photos. Rose is beautiful and young, and strong, and undisciplined and should probably be named Wild Rose. I love her, but she is a major handful. I had already watched her for 8 days while they went on a trip out of state, got one day off and then volunteered to do Friday the 16th.
Rose isn’t housebroken yet; so I took her out several times to encourage her to go outside. I was alone as far as other humans, and my daughter and granddaughter were about 60 miles away, on a school bus and then museum field trip. I live about 60 miles the other way from their home. It had been raining off and on and the ground and grass and driveway and mud were all pretty wet. My other trips outside with Rose that morning had been fine. I only had a thin shirt on, no extra shirt or jacket. I did not think I would be out in the yard very long.
Rose pulled on the leash too exuberantly, as she does often (she is five and a half months old, and has had puppy obedience training, but is in dire need of more of it). I slipped on a muddy and grassy slope. My right leg went out in front of me, and I fell on my rear end. My left leg folded underneath my thigh and toward my rear, and my weight, which is a lot, crunched it. It was bent backward way further than a knee is supposed to bend. I screamed bloody murder. I was afraid to even try to get up, as I thought I had probably torn a ligament or two.
Rose thought it was play time and was all over me. There was not a thing in sight that would give me any leverage to hold me up or to help me get up. I sat and I pondered what to do. My daughter and Anna Leigh would not be home for nearly 6 more hours. I thought, well I’ll just call 911 (the emergency number where we live). Wrong! No cell phone with me. It was inside their house, being charged up; ironically so it would be ready when I needed it.
I tried yelling for help. Nothing! A neighb
Sunset Over the Psych Ward II
A lossy picture that I solarized in my camera. I used a handheld Sony Mavica FD-71. At the time, the Psych Ward was on the 4th and top floor of the hospital. The hospital was called Good Samaritan Hospital. Now the Psych Ward has been moved down the hill to an entirely separate building, and it is part of a complex called Samaritan Regional Health (Center?) in Corvallis, Oregon, USA.
I used bright and contrast and hue and saturation on this. I had posted a different version of it last March that didn't get very many views. I thought I would try again, because even though it is lossy or pixlelated, I personally think it is powerful. Or at least with my skills 7 years ago, and a beginning digital camera, I think it was. Delina (which if you say it out loud in your brain when you read it, is pronounced with a long i).
On August 22, 2010 I looked at this, and this size would not load clearly. I looked at the all sizes, and several of them were much more clear. I don't know why.