Burn injuries are serious. They can lead to infections, deformities and other chronic issues with your body. Severe burns range from the most painful to those that leave you without the nerve endings you need to recognize pain.
When you’re at work and exposed to fire, hot items or chemicals that could cause burns, you must take steps to stay safe. Those steps could be anything from wearing appropriate personal protective gear to staying a distance away from hot objects.
After a burn injury, returning to work can be frightening. However, there are many resources that can help you return to work. One benefit offered by workers’ compensation, for example, is training for a new position or job so that you can return to work when you are able.
How do you know when you’re ready to return to work?
There are a few ways that you will start noticing that you are ready to return to work.
Your medical provider has stated that you are physically capable or safe to return to work
Your health care provider agrees that you are mentally or psychologically prepared to return to work
You feel you have the support and guidance to return to the job
You and your employer have discussed having you return to work and the role you would take on
Not everyone gets to a point where they can return to work, especially with serious burn injuries. However, if you feel you are ready, you may be able to train for a new position away from hot items or be able to return to your old position with new safety steps in place to prevent similar accidents in the future.
It was the railroad trip from hell: the hottest day of the year, stuck for five hours on a sold-out Amtrak train where only half the cars had air conditioning.
The ride to Washington days earlier had been uneventful, almost on time and pleasantly cool, even though I’d made the mistake of taking a Northeast Corridor train, not Acela. Its older Amfleet cars, though recently refurbished on the inside, are still 50-years-old.
But coming back from Washington on a torrid Sunday, by cheaping out for the slower, less expensive train I got what I’d paid for. Put another way, I didn’t get what I’d paid for.
Already a half-hour late arriving in Washington from Newport News Va., train #88 arrived on one of DC’s low-level platforms, meaning boarding passengers had to cue up for about 30 minutes before even being allowed on the platform to board.
One of the station agents said that “extra cars” had been added in Washington, so I immediately headed to the front of the train where I assumed the new cars would be empty. It was already 98 degrees in DC, heading for a “feels like” high that day of 110, so I was looking forward to the super-AC Amtrak is known for.
No such luck, as even the newly added cars were only slightly cooler than outside. That’ll improve when we get going, I thought.
Wrong!
By Baltimore it was getting hot and the fan system was intermittent. Pleas for help to the conductors brought nothing more than promises that “they’ll try to reset the system in Philly,” another hour away.
In desperation I turned to social media, Tweeting sarcastically about Amtrak’s new “Sauna Cars”. Direct messaging to @Amtrak brought no response.
The train was getting later and later on its schedule, partly because of the heat’s adverse effect on the power lines and potential warping of the rails. Knowing there’d be a lot of passengers getting off and on in Philly, I plotted my move to one of the few cars with breathable air. Success … a cooler, though not cold, car with seats.
At Philadelphia, nothing changed, though we did learn that five of the 10 cars on this train bound for Boston carrying 700+ passengers were without air conditioning.
The DC conductor crew never apologized, though they did offer small, free bottles of water, which quickly ran out. But when a new set of conductors boarded in New York, the tone changed significantly.
“We apologize folks. This is not the kind of service we want to provide or you deserve. Please call 1-800-USA-RAIL and register a complaint. If the cars don’t reset after New York, we’ll try again at New Haven,” said one conductor on the PA system.
We got off in Stamford, arriving 90 minutes late, so I don’t know if the cars ever did get cooler during the next four hours run to Boston.
The next day I called Amtrak Customer Service. A 20+ year veteran agent commiserated, empathized and got me a refund voucher.
“Those old Amfleet cars shouldn’t be refurbished, they should be retired,” she said. “Their air conditioning is either on or off. There’s no moderating the temperature. Next time you should take Acela,” she added.
Never mind that Acela costs twice as much. Its AC works and it’s mostly on time! I’ve learned from my mistakes.
Posted with permission of Hearst CT Media
About the author: Jim Cameron is founder of The Commuter Action Group, and a member of the Darien RTM. The opinions expressed in this column are only his own. You can reach him at CommuterActionGroup@gmail.com For a full collection of “Talking Transportation” columns, visit www.talkingtransportation.blogspot.com
Okay, I am having more fun this summer than I have in, at least, two years.
Last year was fine, too, as was the summer before. But this year, I am pain-free, since I had my hip replacement on July 1. A couple of Sundays ago I went to our boules party and saw people I rarely see except during the summer and our Christmas party in early December. I am not on a team this year, but I was able to throw a couple of boules (the game itself is called pétanque, while the stainless steel balls are called boules, but we all call the game boules, too). If they need a fill-out a team for the next two games, I can actually play.
I am also having such a good time with my CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) produce. Unlike most farms, I can pick anything I want that is available at the farm stand. Last week I bought about eight pounds of tomatoes, some green frying peppers, a big loaf of bread (made by the chef of the Oyster Club in Mystic) and almost three bags of baby carrots.
Now, let us talk about baby carrots. The carrots I bought were about the length of my pinkie finger, but even thinner, and the carrot tops were still attached. They are nothing like the “baby carrots” you buy at the supermarket. Those carrots are pared and thrown into a machine to make them look as if they are all the same size.
Sure, they are really carrots, but the ones I bought are tiny, sweet and still taste like the soil they grew in. I ate a lot them, then made a carrot soup I chilled and served with a dollop of sour cream (or crème fraiche.) I found the recipe online, but added a few fillips.
Of course, feel free to use big or smaller supermarket carrots.
Chilled Baby Carrot Soup
3 tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil 1 mediumsweet onion, chopped 3 tablespoons fresh ginger, sliced thin 3 cloves fresh garlic, minced 1 pound of carrots, pared and diced (if they are really baby carrots, just clean them of tops and soil) 1 carton of low-salt chicken stock or vegetable stock One-half teaspoon each of salt and yellow curry (I was out of Indian curry so I added a little red chili paste) One-quarter teaspoon red pepper flakes (use less if you don’t like things too spicy) 1 can unsweetened coconut milk Salt and pepper to taste
In a heavy-bottomed stock pot, add oil over medium heat. Add onion, ginger and garlic. Cook until just translucent, about 5 minutes. Add diced carrots and cook for another 3 or 4 minutes. Add stock and cook until just boiling, then reduce heat and add salt and yellow curry (or a quarter teaspoon or less red or yellow chili paste and/or red pepper flakes). Cook on medium-low for about 30 minutes. Remove from the heat and let cool for at least an hour.
Using an immersion stick (which I do not have, I used my big Ninja), purée the soup. Put it back on the heat and add a can of coconut milk. Cook until hot and taste for seasoning. You can serve the soup hot, but I chill it and serve it cold with a dollop of sour cream or crème fraiche.
About the Author: Lee White, a local resident, has been writing about restaurants and cooking since 1976 and has been extensively published in the Worcester (Mass.) Magazine, The Day, Norwich Bulletin, and Hartford Courant. She currently writes Nibbles and a cooking column called A La Carte for the Times and Shore Publishing newspapers, and Elan, a quarterly magazine, all of which are now owned by The Day.
Stanford University’s Francis Fukuyama always challenges our minds. From his The End of History and the Last Man, addressing our futures after the end of the Cold War (1992), and continuing with The Origins of Political Order (2011) and Political Order and Political Decay (2014), two monster 600+ page tomes, his newest, and briefest (a slim 183 pager!) is Identity.
Who on earth are we? Fukuyama sees we humans as trying to manage, simultaneously, two conflicting pressures. The first is “isothymia,” — “the demand to be respected on an equal basis with all other people,” and “megalothymia” — “the desire to be recognized as superior.” This disparity has “historically existed in all societies; it cannot be overcome; it can only be channeled or moderated.”
He continues: “Contemporary identity politics is driven by the quest for equal recognition by groups that have been marginalized by their societies. But that desire for equal recognition can easily slide over into a demand for recognition of the group’s superiority.”
His themes are thymos (the third part of the soul), recognition, dignity, identity, immigration, nationalism, religion and culture. He calls on many earlier observers: Socrates, Luther, Rousseau, Kant, Hegel, Hobbes, Locke, Mill, Nietzsche, Herder, Adam Smith, Sartre, Freud, and Kahneman, arguing that the demand for dignity, “should somehow disappear is neither possible nor desirable.” Resentment at indignities remains a powerful force, a “craving for recognition” we must learn to understand and balance.
National identities are “critical for the maintenance of a successful political order.” They begin with a “shared belief in the legitimacy of the country’s political system, whether that system is democratic or not.” They include physical security, quality of government, economic development, “a wider radius of trust,” and strong social safety nets, all of which eventually make possible “liberal democracy itself.”
His chapter on religion and nationalism is particularly challenging. Can people who share a particular culture and language be subsumed into a global belief system (Hinduism; Buddhism; Communism; Islam; Christianity)? Probably not, but these systems continue to try. The advent of social media makes “identity” now the property of groups, not individuals.
Fukuyama cannot resist a comment of Trump, a “political figure who almost perfectly describes … narcissism: narcissism led Trump into politics, but a politics driven less by public purposes than his own inner need for public affirmation.” And “Trump (is) the perfect practitioner of the ethics of authenticity that defines our age: he may be mendacious, malicious, bigoted, and un-presidential, but at least he says what he thinks.”
“What is to be done?” he asks. One, ”confusion over identity” is a “condition of living in the modern age.” Two, a “pan-European identity may someday emerge.” Three, “education is the critical ingredient”, but it must include a process of universal not parochial values, economic mobility, interdependence, and a growing exposure to other humans and their customs.
We humans seem to be simultaneously breaking down walls and building new ones!
Editor’s Note: ‘Identity’ by Francis Fukuyama was published by Farrar, Strauss and Giroux, New York 2018
Felix Kloman
About the Author: Felix Kloman is a sailor, rower, husband, father, grandfather, retired management consultant and, above all, a curious reader and writer. He’s explored how we as human beings and organizations respond to ever-present uncertainty in two books, ‘Mumpsimus Revisited’ (2005) and ‘The Fantods of Risk’ (2008). A 20-year resident of Lyme, he now writes book reviews, mostly of non-fiction, which explores our minds, our behavior, our politics and our history. But he does throw in a novel here and there. For more than 50 years, he’s put together the 17 syllables that comprise haiku, the traditional Japanese poetry, and now serves as the self-appointed “poet laureate” of Ashlawn Farm Coffee, where he may be seen on Friday mornings. His late wife, Ann, was also a writer, but of mystery novels, all of which begin in a village in midcoast Maine, strangely reminiscent of the town she and her husband visited every summer.
This is an engrossing reflection on past American leaders, elected and publicly acknowledged, and how they have shaped our peculiar, yet resilient, form of governance.
Meacham leads us in a thorough review of our history: early (and conflicted) visions, Andrew Jackson, Abraham Lincoln and the Civil War, its aftermath (Reconstruction, the Klu Klux Klan), Teddy Roosevelt, Woodrow Wilson and our entry into world affairs, the Depression, FDR, McCarthyism, Martin Luther King, and LBJ. Throughout he gives us the sense that all human beings, and, indeed, our so-called “leaders,” are both selfish and altruistic, often at the same moment.
We are both hopeful and fearful. It is, again, a story of trying to organize ourselves when we are simultaneously rational and irrational.
Meacham is a storehouse of relevant quotes from earlier observers. As an example, his last six pages cite 28 comments of others, often at length.
But his narrative ends with the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Yes, that was a momentous achievement, but our scrambling did persist thereafter. As Sean Wilentz, in his New York Times review on June 10, 2018 explained, “Suddenly we are thrust back into the present with little understanding of how we got here from there”. What has gone wrong, or has, indeed, anything gone wrong? Are we simply, as so often in the past, struggling to find reasonable courses of action, both domestically and internationally?
Perhaps an answer lies in his quote of Eisenhower on leadership: “It’s persuasion – and conciliation – and education – and patience.” But are we ready, even willing, to accept that rational guidance?
Throughout, the author cites our very human compulsion to accept ”the most ancient of institutions, a powerful chief” connected to “the more modern of institutions, a free, disputatious populace.” Can they work together? Is our system really worthwhile (a strong executive, balanced by an equally strong legislature and judiciary)?
I continue to look with envy at a system almost as old (created in 1848), the one in Switzerland: seven rotating presidents, each serving a one year term, with a strong Assembly and local cantonal legislatures. And the Swiss employ four languages! It works and it has much less publicity …
Meacham’s five concluding “ideas”: (1) Enter the Arena, (2) Resist Tribalism, (3) Respect Facts and Deploy Reason, (4) Find a Critical Balance, and (5) Keep History in Mind.
Keep listening, reading, and thinking!
Editor’s Note: ‘The Soul of America’ by Jon Meacham was published by Random House, New York in 2018.
Felix Kloman
About the Author: Felix Kloman is a sailor, rower, husband, father, grandfather, retired management consultant and, above all, a curious reader and writer. He’s explored how we as human beings and organizations respond to ever-present uncertainty in two books, ‘Mumpsimus Revisited’ (2005) and ‘The Fantods of Risk’ (2008). A 20-year resident of Lyme, he now writes book reviews, mostly of non-fiction, which explores our minds, our behavior, our politics and our history. But he does throw in a novel here and there. For more than 50 years, he’s put together the 17 syllables that comprise haiku, the traditional Japanese poetry, and now serves as the self-appointed “poet laureate” of Ashlawn Farm Coffee, where he may be seen on Friday mornings. His late wife, Ann, was also a writer, but of mystery novels, all of which begin in a village in midcoast Maine, strangely reminiscent of the town she and her husband visited every summer.