Adios 2008. Good riddance.

I know, it's only symbolic. Other than tax deductions and football bowls now too numerous to recall, there's not much special about the calendar change. Life goes on. Next month our President-elect inherits the biggest economic mess in modern history, what will hopefully be the end of the occupation of Iraq and the tar-baby Guantanamo Bay prison, a situation in Afghanistan that appears to be the result of the current Commander-in-Chief taking his eyes off the ball, and the lovely tit-for-tat behavior of Palestinians and Israelis.

That being said, Galveston will plod on in the midst of these global troubles.

On the day we were closing things up to do our annual trek to Colorado, I managed to mangle my hand between the tongue of a trailer and a steel dolly. No need for details; it was not pretty. My faithful wife piled me in the car and off we went to the ER at UTMB. In spite of an incredibly cheerful and sympathetic triage team, I had only one M.D. and a nurse practitioner to assess and treat my hand injury. It didn't take long to see the writing on the wall. Nobody there felt competent to deal with a hand injury where tendons were exposed.

So off we went to the mainland. The remainder of the day was consumed with a nice plastic surgeon putting things back together. The good news is that I am going to have full functioning of my right hand. The bad news is that our beloved, former Level 1 trauma center on the island is still woefully lacking what it takes to deal with anything more than minor emergencies and stabilization protocols. There is a growing anger within the community (and with UT faculty throughout the state) at the UT Board of Regents, who do not seem to get it.

As the other two Level 1 centers in Harris County are overloaded due to UTMB's predicament, the refinery industry in Texas City is screaming in protest as their emergency back-up for catastrophic circumstances is now gone. It will be interesting to watch this political/economic quagmire play out with fingers of blame pointing all over the place.

On a brighter side, I am including (with credits) the following uplifting story from Galveston:

Let the bells ring out for charity

By Michael A. Smith
The Daily News

Published December 30, 2008

One bright spot in all the bad news about Hurricane Ike and the economy is that people apparently haven’t gotten stingy.

Despite, and maybe because of, the hurricane and the faltering economy, Galveston County residents this Christmas dropped more money into Salvation Army kettles than in years past.

Maj. Elda Flores doesn’t have exact figures yet, but the organization raised more money, and with fewer kettles and bell ringers, than last year, she said.

Typically, the island Salvation Army operates nine kettles in Galveston but, because many stores remain closed after the hurricane, the agency operated only five kettles and on fewer days this holiday season, Flores said.

Even so, bell ringers reported that people were dropping change while thanking the Salvation Army for the food, cleaning supplies and gift cards the agency doled out after Hurricane Ike.

“People are grateful for what the Salvation Army did during the disaster,” Flores said.

“We fed a lot of folks during their time of need, and they are showing appreciation for what we did for them.”

Salvation Army volunteers with mobile kitchens served 1.7 million meals and 2.6 million snacks after Ike. They also handed out kits of cleaning supplies and gift cards at big-box retail stores.

With Thanksgiving behind us and Christmas approaching, the island is beginning to look more and more like the old place I remember. Although piles of debris remain, they are fewer and farther between. A few forty foot sailboats still adorn the curbside of 61st Street, but the boats strewn around the streets and parking lots are mostly gone. The University of Texas Medical Branch has concluded the majority of its layoffs, and the final tally did not reach the 3,000+ everyone feared. I attended a Development Board meeting this week in Houston where the president of UTMB, David Callender spelled out candidly what is facing the medical center. With 200 beds open now, the goal is to reach 350 in the near future. Whether John Sealy Hospital will ever have 500 beds again remains in doubt. A more likely scenario is that the graduate training programs will more closely resemble those at Baylor and the University Health Science Center in Houston – namely residents will rotate through a variety of hospitals as part of their training program. I am dismayed to learn that there are no immediate plans to open psychiatric beds on the Island. Inpatient psychiatric services have been a losing venture for years, but like emergency departments, have been seen as a necessary component to a full service healthcare system. For now, all acutely mentally ill people on the Island will be transported to the mainland for treatment. I will not belabor the complex risks this puts on emergency medical personnel or law enforcement, but suffice it to say this is a very troubling predicament. My admiration for the leadership at UTMB, who have had to weather rumors and innuendos, reminds me of the determination shown after the Great Storm of 1900. For those who aren’t thoroughly familiar, I will point out that the 1900 Storm also occurred in September and that there was great consternation about whether UTMB should open or not. Here is a copy of the telegram sent from then-UTMB president Prather to the head of the UT Board of Regents:

And this is the famous response of Beauregard Bryan:

Meanwhile the denizens of Galveston continue to suffer from a collective depressive disorder I view as a variant of Complicated Bereavement. I was recently interviewed by Islander Magazine, and my interview appears in this month’s issue. It’s flattering that my opinion is held is such esteem, but it is discouraging to see that this peculiar community malaise, like our economy, remains in an unrelenting funk.
Ah, but this does not mean we Galvestonians aren’t adept at trying to make the best of the situation. At the Barnhart household, twenty plus enjoyed Thanksgiving sans heat, and fifty of our neighbors will enjoy a similar experience at the Xmas party we are holding tonight.
Dickens on the Strand came off this year in spite of Ike, albeit smaller in scope. Similarly Galveston Bike Week, postponed but not cancelled is happening right now. It’s been as cold as a witch’s mammary appendage, but those tough bikers seem to be coming anyway. I suspect this year’s rally won’t match up to years past, but those in attendance that I’ve met seem determined to have a good time and cheer on this annual event.

At the end of this week, Kathy and I set off for the mountains and a respite from Ike's aftermath. We leave our keys with our contractor and hope to see ductwork, A/C, heat and new wiring in the near future. The distraction of grandchildren on Christmas morning and fresh powder on the slopes should add to our cheer. We will miss our island friends, but our mountain home beckons and the break will do us good.

Cheers...