Sunday, September 21, 2008

A Geriatric's 80-Pound Kettle Bells

By EUGENIA KLOPSIS April 9, 2007 The weather is too cold for spring, and I actually see a few snowflakes when we get a call for an EDP in Sheepshead Bay. "Imagine that," Bronson says, ignoring the call. "Snowflakes." I read the computer screen: "An 85-year-old male, combative, yelling and throwing things." I read further and note that PD was also called. We arrive at a small wooden house and are let inside by a Russian family: a middle-age couple and their two teenage sons. "It's my father," the man says in heavily accented English. "My grandfather," one of the sons says in perfect English, while sitting at the kitchen table with a high school calculus textbook open in front of him. "He's acting irrationally," the other son, a strapping young fellow in fashionably distressed jeans, says. "Does he have a psych history?" Bronson asks. "No," the calculus son says. "Heart trouble, asthma, and bronchitis. High blood pressure." We go into the living room, where the man is sitting on the couch. He looks younger than 85. He's about 5 feet-6 inches tall, barrel-chested, arms like iron bars, and no neck. "He's built like a brick house," Bronson says. A nasal cannula attached to a cylinder of home oxygen jars the image of robust health. He appears calm, staring out the window. I ask if I can take his blood pressure. "Da," he answers, wheezing a little. I inflate, then release the BP cuff. His pressure is high. Bronson and I stand there, trying to figure out what to do. He needs to go to the hospital for his breathing. PD arrives. As I'm explaining to one police officer what's going on, the other cop points to the corner and says, "Whose are those?" Under a table are two cast-iron things, like solid black cauldrons with thick handles. "What are they?" I ask. "Kettle bells," the cop says. "What's a kettle bell?" I ask. The cop explains that they're workout weights, like dumbbells only macaroni-shaped, and are used by the Russian military for strength training and conditioning. The cop inspects them and whistles in awe. "Eighty pounds each." He stands up. "Whose kettle bells are these?" The family points to the old man. "He uses them every day," the fashionable son says. The cop whistles again: "I only use 35 pound ones." "Because you're a weakling," his partner says, and then sighs. "Wanna EDP him?" "No," Bronson says. "Let's just take him to the ER." He unfolds the stair chair. "He's gonna get upset," the calculus son warns. "Tell him it's just for his wheezing." The son shrugs, and talks to the old man in Russian. The man immediately starts ranting and raving, screaming and yelling in Russian. "Toldja," the son says. The old man stands up and throws his medicine bottles off the end table. They skitter to the floor and he stomps on them, smashing them. The cops look at each other. "EDP him," one says. The other looks warily at the kettle bells. Any man who can work out with those things is going to be a challenge to handcuff, geriatric or not. The cops attempt to cuff him. Bronson jumps in. I stand there with the handcuffs, waiting for my moment. Finally, they all sit on him while I fumble with the cuffs. It's a lot harder than it looks on TV. "Got 'im," I say, as they snap shut. We're all sweating, but he's not even damp as we load him onto the stair chair. But he's wheezing audibly now. Bronson says, "Call for medics." They come as we're trying to get him out the door, which he blocks with his ironlike legs. They can't do an EKG or listen to his lungs, so they decide just to take him to the ER. "If he craps out on the bus, we'll work him there." Even handcuffed, he fights us every step of the way, straining against the stair chair, kicking the doors of the ambulance. He wraps his legs around the stair chair to prevent being moved to the stretcher. But once we get him on the stretcher, he just lies there, apparently defeated. I think of the 80-pound kettle bells and keep my distance. Ms. Klopsis is an emergency medical technician on an ambulance in Brooklyn. This column details her observations and experiences. Some names and identifying details have been changed to protect the privacy of patients.

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Monday, February 25, 2008

Getting Stronger

Each day upon entering the weight room you demonstrate a desire for excellence that makes you someone special. Special, because few people possess the dedication and strength of heart required to regularly work hard at something this difficult. Upon completion of each workout, you can and should feel proud, for you have just moved one step closer towards reaching your full potential and the ultimate goal of and being the best you can be. — Mike Berry

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Thursday, February 7, 2008

Great Quote

I came across this great quote: "I don't race to win, I race to see who has the most guts because if the race comes down to who has the most guts, I will win."

Don't cha just love that? It reminded me of one of my favorite verses:

If you have raced with men on foot and they have worn you out, how can you compete with horses? If you stumble in safe country, how will you manage in the thickets by the Jordan? - Jeremiah 12:5

I love that even more!





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Saturday, January 19, 2008

SOS part 2, Intervention

...I did my resolutions and I have my goals.

BUT, I've been waiting for yours.


Apparently, it's time for a little intervention.

I know your a lefty, so I'll try to appeal to your right brain. We've discussed your resolutions and the reason why you haven't blogged them. What I heard was:

"I don't like to write."













OK, You're the one that suggested this blog. You're the one that wanted resolutions. Time to get with it pal.

Step up to the plate. You'll never hit one out of the park if you never take a swing.

Every body misses the mark sometimes.

Be your own person. Don't follow the crowd...

Have some self-discipline. Don't be a pig.

You are not a loser.....

Unless you want to be.


Your friends are behind you...

and there’s a reason for that...Just kidding!!

But, you do have the choice to be a Slowsky.

or a Mutant.

So, pull yourself off that couch...

Get moving...

Start working on your knee exercises, your dead lifts, and your resolutions.



No more lame excuses.



Seriously. I'm behind you 100%. But I can't do it for you.

You need to establish your own vision.

Proverbs 29:18 (King James Version) Where there is no vision, the people perish: but he that keepeth the law, happy is he.

God Bless and have a great 2008!

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Thursday, January 3, 2008

Attitude

The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life.

Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than failures, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill. It will make or break a company... a church... a home.

The remarkable thing is we have a choice every day regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past... we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude... I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% how I react to it.

And so it is with you... we are in charge of our attitudes.

- Charles Swindoll

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Tuesday, December 25, 2007

Merry Christmas!

Good husband and housewife, now chiefly be glad,
Things handsome to have, as they ought to be had.
They both do provide, against Christmas do come,
To welcome their neighbors, good cheer to have some.

Good bread and good drink, a good fire in the hall,
Brawn, pudding, and souse, and good mustard withal.
Beef, mutton, and pork, and good pies of the best,
Pig, veal, goose, and capon, and turkey well drest,
Cheese, apples and nuts, and good carols to hear,
As then in the country is counted good cheer.

What cost to good husband, is any of this?
Good household provision only it is:
Of other the like, I do leave out a many,
That costeth the husband never a penny.

Christmas Cheer a Christmas poem by Thomas Tusser

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Friday, December 7, 2007

Thundering Legion

The “Thundering Legion” got its name from a battle in 172 AD, in Slovakia, when they were besieged, trapped in the mountains without water during a dry spell. They were dying of thirst. The leader, who was a non-Christian, sacrificed to the roman gods, but nothing happened. In turn, the Christian soldiers of Legion XII asked him if they could pray for their safety and water. Soon, a huge thunderstorm came, which allowed the legion to collect water. Lightning mixed with hailstones routed their attackers, resulting in an easy victory for the Romans. In consequence to this miracle, the Legion was called “Thundering” (i.e. Legio XII Fulminata).

Written below is a more detailed account of this mighty work of God. Manuscript evidence is taken from both Christian and non-Christian sources.

In the words of Eusebius; "It is said that when Marcus Aurelius Caesar was forming his troops in order of battle against the Germans and Sarmatians, he was reduced to extremities by a failure of water. Meanwhile the soldiers in the so-called Melitene legion, which for its faith remains to this day, knelt down upon the ground, as we are accustomed to do in prayer, and betook themselves to supplication. And whereas this sight was strange to the enemy, another still more strange happened immediately,—thunderbolts, which caused the enemy's flight and overthrow; and upon the army to which the men were attached, who had called upon God, a rain, which restored it entirely when it was all but perishing by thirst.” In consequence, the Emperor Marcus re-named this group of soldiers the “Thundering Legion”.

In addition, Tertullian speaks of "the letters of Marcus Aurelius, an Emperor of great character, in which he testifies to the quenching of that German thirst by the shower gained by the prayers of soldiers who happened to be Christians." "Marcus Aurelius in the German expedition obtained showers in that thirst by the prayers offered up to God by Christian soldiers."

The very fact of this event has been recorded on the column of Antoninus, is of itself a sufficient proof of its importance; but perhaps the reader will be more impressed by the pagan Dio Cassius description of it, which runs as follows: "When the Barbarians would not give them battle, in hopes of their perishing by heat and thirst, since they had so surrounded them that they had no possible means of getting water, and when they were in the utmost distress from sickness, wounds, sun, and thirst, and could neither fight, nor retreat, but remained in order of battle and at their posts in this parched condition, suddenly clouds gathered, and a copious rain fell, not without the mercy of God. And when it first began to fall, the Romans, raising their mouths towards heaven, received it upon them; next, turning up their shields and helmets, they drank largely out of them, and gave to their horses. And when the Barbarians charged them, they drank as they fought; and numbers of them were wounded, and drank out of their helmets water and blood mixed. And while they were thus incurring heavy loss from the assault of the enemy, because most of them were engaged in drinking, a violent hail-storm and much lightning were discharged upon the enemy. And thus water and fire might be seen in the same place falling from heaven, that some might drink refreshment, and others be burned to death; for the fire did not touch the Romans, or if so, it was at once extinguished; nor did the wet help the Barbarians, but burned like oil; so that, drenched with rain, they still needed moisture, and they wounded their own selves, that blood might put out the fire." This of course is rhetorically written, but men do not write rhetorically without a cause, and the effort of the composition shows the marvelousness of the occurrence.

So certain was this fact, that there nothing was left to the Pagans but to record it and to account for it. They accounted for it by referring to their own divinities; they recorded it on medals and on monuments.

On the whole then we may conclude that the facts of this memorable occurrence are as the early Christian writers state them; that Christian soldiers did ask, and did receive, in a great distress, rain for their own supply, and lightning against their enemies;

"He made darkness his covering, his canopy around him – the dark rain clouds of the sky. Out of the brightness of his presence clouds advanced, with hailstones and bolts of lighting. The Lord thundered from heaven; the voice of the Most High resounded. He shot his arrows and scattered the enemies, great bolts of lighting and routed them." – Psalm 18:11-14

In the winter of 320 AD, Constantine was Emperor of the West and Licinius was Emperor of the East. Licinius, under pressure from Constantine, had agreed to legalize Christianity in his territory, and the two made an alliance (cemented by the marriage of Licinius to Constantia the sister of Constantine), but now Licinius broke the alliance and made a new attempt to suppress Christianity. He ordered all Roman soldiers to offer a sacrifice to the Roman gods to repudiate it on the pain of death. His edict reached the "Thundering Legion," stationed at Sebaste, Armenia (now Sivas, Turkey), and the order was passed down to the legionaries.

The Roman Governor stood resolutely before the Forty Roman soldiers of the Thundering Legion. “I command you to make an offering to the Roman gods. If you will not, you will be stripped of your military status.” The forty soldiers all believed firmly in the Lord Jesus. They knew they must not deny Him or sacrifice to the Roman idols, no matter what the governor would do to them. Camdidus spoke for the legion, “Nothing is dearer or of greater honor to us than Christ our God. They refused to obey the edict, choosing instead to obey a higher authority: “You shall have no other gods before me. You shall not make for yourself an idol… You shall not bow down to them or worship them.”

The governor then tried other tactics to get them to deny their faith. First he offered them promises of money or imperial honors. Then he threatened them with torments and torture with the rack and with fire.

Camdidus Replied, “You offer us money that remains behind and glory that fades away. You seek to make us friends of the Emperor, but alienate us from the true King. We desire one gift, the crown of righteousness. We are anxious for one glory, the glory of the heavenly kingdom. We love honors, those of heaven. You threaten fearful torments and call our godliness a crime, but you will not find us faint hearted or attached to this life or easily stricken with terror. For the love of God, we are prepared to endure any kind of torture.”

The governor was enraged. They were ordered to remove their armor and clothing, herded onto the middle of a frozen lake, standing there naked to die a slow, painful death. He set soldiers to guard them to prevent any from escaping. They were told, "You may come ashore when you are ready to deny your faith."

The forty encouraged each other as though they were going to battle. “How many of our companions in arms fell on the battle front, showing themselves loyal to an earthly king? Let us not turn aside, O warriors, let us not turn our backs in flight from the devil”.

To tempt and increase the torment of the Christians, fires were built on shore, with warm baths, blankets, clothing, and hot food and drink close by. The mother of the youngest soldier was present and encouraged her son from the bank.

The men began to pray, “O Lord, 40 wrestlers have come forth to fight for Thee. Grant that 40 wrestlers may gain the victory!” As daylight faded, 40 warriors continued to resist, courageously bearing their pain in spite of the bitter cold—some walking quickly to and fro, some already sleeping that sleep which ends in death, and some standing lost in prayer, rejoicing in the hope of soon being with the Lord. Finally, one legionary could endure the suffering no longer, succumbed to the temptation and left the ice for the warm house that was guarded by a centurion named Sempronius and his men. On the ice, the remaining thirty-nine men stood firm. Still the petition went up from those able to speak, “O Lord, 40 wrestlers have come forth to fight for Thee. Grant that 40 wrestlers may gain the victory!”

Their prayer was answered. To the surprise of everyone, Sempronius the centurion was touched by his comrades’ bravery, and the Holy Spirit moved upon his heart. He threw off his armor, weapons, and clothing, and ran to join the 39 remaining Christians on the ice, confessing Jesus as Christ, crying out loudly, “I am a Christian.” They welcomed him into their company, and so the number of the martyrs remained at forty. By morning, 40 glorious spirits, Sempronius among them, had entered into the presence of Christ.

Some call it “the mystery of martyrdom.” Why would seeing 39 believers who were willing to die for their faith inspire a highly-trained soldier, in the prime of his life, to join them in death? It is amazing to see how God works through these tragic situations to call more people to Himself.

All died of exposure, although one source says that the few in whom a little life remained were stabbed to death by dawn. We still have what some scholars believe to be authentic eyewitness accounts of their martyrdom. It includes farewell messages to their family and friends written shortly before their deaths.

March 9 is Forty Martyrs Day, a holiday honoring the faithful resistance of the Forty Martyrs of Sabaste. It is traditionally celebrated by eating food which contains the number 40; for instance, forty layers of pasty, forty different


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