Touring the Valley

"Nothing We Could Do"

Imagine your beautiful wife is pregnant. You have been having a great time preparing for the new baby. You've painted the nursery and set up a nice crib and changing table. The ultrasound has revealed that the baby will be a boy, and the two of you are seriously debating what name to give him. Life is wonderful.

Then one night, you hear your wife moaning and gasping in the bathroom. You walk in to see her lying on the floor, blood soaking the bathroom rug and her nightgown. Fortunately, your phone is in your pocket, so you can stay with her while you call 911. The ambulance arrives quickly, and the EMTs tell you what you already suspected: it looks like your wife is having a miscarriage.

At the hospital, the doctors confirm the bad news. In the morning, they release her with some medication and instructions for home care. It seems she can't stop crying over this loss, and you are feeling the grief.

Two days later, she does not feel better physically. In fact, she is in more pain, and she's still bleeding. The doctor said there might be light bleeding, but this seems like too much. You take her back to the hospital. The doctor says that some tissue was left behind by the miscarriage. There is now a risk of infection. Unfortunately, there is nothing they can do at this time.

You feel stunned. Nothing they can do? The nurse explains that the traditional treatment would be a minor surgical procedure, known as a D&C, to remove the tissue from the uterus. However, because of your state's anti-abortion laws, they cannot perform this procedure.

"Abortion?" you ask. "But my wife isn't pregnant. She had a miscarriage two days ago, so there's no possible abortion!" The nurse looks grim as she explains that because of the law, hospital policy prohibits any D&C unless a woman's life is in danger. If the doctor violated this policy, he could risk life in prison.

"But isn't her life in danger?" you demand. "If an infection develops, it could kill her!"

The nurse just shakes her head sadly as she hands you your wife's discharge papers. "Just go home and have her rest. She can take these antibiotics. Maybe her body will expel the tissue naturally. If she develops a high fever or bleeds enough to fill a few maxi pads, bring her back."

Feeling like you're in a nightmare, you take your wife home again. The painkillers and antibiotics don't seem to be helping. She continues to bleed, and by now she's a bit feverish. You find yourself pacing back and forth, checking on her every two minutes. When her fever reaches 102, you can't stand it any more, and, once again, you drive her to the hospital.

The doctor confirms that she now has a septic infection. Her life is in immediate danger, so at last they can treat her. She is whisked off to the operating room. You wait, pacing the hallway, for hours.

Finally, the doctor reappears, looking sad. "I'm so sorry," he says. "We did everything we could, but we couldn't save her."

You feel a surge of hot anger, and you start yelling. "You didn't do everything you could! You could have helped her two days ago, or even yesterday. But you just waited until she was dying!" You choke on your own rage and pain, hot tears and snot running down your face.

"I'm sorry," the doctor repeats. You realize that he is truly sorry, but that is not going to bring back the woman you love.

Later, as you stand next to the gurney that holds your wife's body, looking down at her sweet face, the nurse hands you a clipboard with some papers to sign. "Is there anyone we can call for you?" she asks. You realize that your parents, and your wife's parents, have no idea what has happened. Having the hospital call them so that you don't have to is the kindest thing that has happened to you here.

Somehow, you get home. The house seems too big and too quiet. Upstairs, you rip the blood-soaked sheets off the bed, throw them into the nursery, and close the door.

Whatever Happened to Hitler's Generals?

We've heard a lot about Hitler's generals lately. Who were they, really? I've looked up the stories of a few of them.

Walther Heinrich Alfred Hermann von Brauchitsch was Commander-in-Chief of the German Army during the first two years of World War II. Brauchitsch and others considered overthrowing Hitler, but he decided against it. Although Brauchitsch led several successful campaigns, Hitler blamed him for the failure of the attack on Moscow. Brauchitsch was forced into retirement. After the war, he was charged with war crimes, but died before he could be prosecuted, age 67.

Friedrich Olbricht was a commander in the invasion of Poland. He was eventually promoted to Chief of the Armed Forces Reserve Office. Olbricht was a key figure in Operation Valkyrie, a plot to assassinate Hitler and take over the government. Following the failure of the plot, he was executed by firing squad, age 55.

Fritz Erich Georg Eduard von Manstein was considered one of the most talented field commanders. He commanded several successful operations and took 430,000 Soviet prisoners. At the Nuremberg trials, he presented a document and oral testimony in defense of the General Staff. He was tried for war crimes in Hamburg in 1949, where he was found guilty of nine charges and sentenced to 18 years. His sentence was reduced, and he served only four years. In 1955 Manstein was a consultant on rebuilding the German army. His memoir, published in 1955, became a best-seller. He died of a stroke in 1977, age 85.

Henning Hermann Karl Robert von Tresckow was involved in the 1940 invasion of France. He served in several campaigns and invasions, and signed orders to kidnap thousands of Polish and Ukrainian children to use as slave labor. Tresckow tried to kill Hitler by having a colleague plant a bomb in his plane; the bomb failed to explode. He participated in several other failed assassination plots, including Operation Valkyrie. After Valkyrie’s failure, he killed himself with a grenade, age 43.

Johannes Erwin Eugen Rommel led German and Italian forces in North Africa. He was given the nickname “Desert Fox,” and had a reputation for chivalry. He later commanded German forces opposing the Normandy invasion. Rommel was implicated in a plot to assassinate Hitler, and was encouraged to commit suicide. He took a cyanide pill, age 52.

Friedrich Wilhelm Waldemar Fromm was commander of Germany’s Reserve Army in World War II. He was part of Operation Valkyrie. When the plot failed, he attempted to hide his involvement by ordering a quick court-martial and execution for some of the other conspirators. His participation in the plot could not be proved because the witnesses were dead, so he was instead convicted of cowardice and executed by firing squad, age 56.

Oskar Wilhelm Robert Paul Ludwig Hellmuth von Beneckendorff und von Hindenburg was the son of a former German president. As a retired general, he came out of retirement in World War II to supervise several prisoner of war camps. He resigned because he considered the position a demotion. He was a prosecution witness at the Nuremberg trials. He died of a heart attack in 1960, age 77.

Karl Rudolf Gerd von Rundstedt came out of retirement for World War II, becoming a commander in the invasion of Poland, and in the Battle of France. He requested the Halt Order during the Battle of Dunkirk. He was commander the largest encirclement in history, the Battle of Kiev. Hitler dismissed him after the defeat at Normandy, then recalled him as Commander-in-Chief in the West. Rundstedt knew about some of the plots to depose Hitler, but neither joined nor reported them. Ater the war he was accused of war crimes, but was considered too old and sick to stand trial, although he did appear as a defense witness. He died of heart failure in 1953, age 77.

Random Thoughts

The great thing about landlines was that you always knew which room the phone was in.

People say that as we get older, we start turning into our parents. I seem to be skipping them and going straight to my grandparents.

It's great to know that all the former infectious disease specialists and Constitutional scholars are now disaster relief experts.

This'll never happen, but I would LOVE to see both candidates on stage in soundproof booths taking a standard IQ test, results to be scored and revealed immediately.

I'm waiting to meet an American citizen who really wanted a job picking fruit in the heat, and lost that job to an immigrant.

Spite

My aunt Martha was a serious grudge-holder. She always assumed that everyone else remembered all the petty little things from 40 years ago that she referred to obliquely, imagining that she had scored a zinger, when actually no one knew what she was talking about.

Martha would relate anecdotes in which she had enjoyed what she thought was a "gotcha" moment. Once at the City Clerk's office, where she was annoyed by having to file some kind of paperwork, she reminded the young person behind the window that "This city doesn't actually exist, legally," and belived she had scored points when the worker had nothing to say in response. Martha's remark was based on her memory of something that had happened decades earlier, when there was some technical irregularity in the city's incorporation papers. She assumed everyone with a city job knew about that.

Like a lot of self-righteous people, Martha always imagined that if people had no response to her pronouncements, it meant they knew she was right. It never occurred to her that they just thought she was crazy.

Martha was married over 60 years to Frank, who often seemed baffled by the endless supply of anger his wife harbored. Many of her most cherished grudges involved him, something he had or hadn't said or done when they were dating and during the early years of their marriage. One of her favorites was that he had complimented her potato salad when they went on a picnic, but later admitted he really hated it. In her eyes, that made him a liar, and she never forgave him for the revelation that her cooking skills were subpar.

In his eighties, Frank experienced health problems, along wth a cognitive decline. His ability to process information deteriorated, he exercised poor judgment, and he was no longer able to drive. He became dependent on Martha for nearly everything.

Once, I was at their house, helping Martha reorganize the garage. We were chatting about random things, and she began telling me a story from her early life with Frank. They had rented a small house in an old neighborhood, not within walking distance of any shops or businesses. It sounded to me like what today we would call a "food desert". They had one car, which Frank drove to work every day, leaving Martha at home with the baby.

One day, she asked him to pick up something for her on his way home. He declined, because it was out of his way, and said she'd have to wait for the weekend, when she could get it herself. She was bitterly disappointed and never forgot his selfishness.

"Last week," she said, "there was some little thing Frank wanted me to get for him. I told him I couldn't do it because it was out of my way, and he could wait until the weekend. He remembered. Oh, he remembered." With a smug look on her face, she continued moving boxes.

I didn't believe Frank remembered the incident Martha was referencing. More likely, he just felt helpless, even hopeless, at the mercy of a mysteriously angry woman who could arbitrarily deny his requests. I wondered if she was planning to get revenge for every slight, every disappointment, every misstep for the past sixty years. I wondered if I should investigate further, and if I would have to call Adult Protective Services.

Frank was inside, watching TV with the volume turned up. He asked me where Martha was, and appeared reassured when I said she was cleaning the garage. It seemed unlikely that he recalled last week's conversation.

Frank had a third heart attack later that year, and did not survive. Martha no longer had the strength or the will to maintain the house, so she moved into assisted living, where she survived another ten years, accumulating minor grudges against the manager, a couple of the housekeepers, and some lady named Helen.