Need a Mantra Fast!

We had decided to throw away some money on a fancy seafood lunch on the porch/deck of the local tourist restaurant as a last fall fling.  The market was going to drop.  Our savings, which had finally climbed past their original high before the prior administration crashed the market with its deregulation of banks and investment firms, was going to thin once again.  One of the economists, those who rarely cry fire, said we should be prepared for as much as a 45% loss.  This time the crash would be because of love of power and the addiction to the sound of one's voice and the fear that one might be excluded from the club.  Even the rich puppeteers pulling the strings in the background were gasping at this monster they had created and backed off on their agenda because it meant they, too, were going to lose.  We were not confident they could stop the landslide at this late date.  Therefore, like sailors on the sinking ship we decided to drown ourselves in the last of the rum before all we had to drink was salty water.

I was a little mad pissed off and determined to order the most expensive item on the menu in self-destruction.  But since I live in 'good-ole-boy' land, that item was a HUGE platter of assorted fried seafood while the next was a steak and seafood heart-attack on a plate.  I kept seeing in my mind the type of person that would order this and with greasy fingers pummel it to breaded crumbs in no time.  Thus I ordered the crab-stuffed shrimp, not the most expensive, but hardly cheap for a lunch.  I ordered a glass of Chardonnay and fully expected to drink two glasses in celebration, but found one sufficient.  Hubby ordered the largest order of fried shrimp they had.  Then we also added an expensive tuna sashimi appetizer just for the hell of it.  As we selected excellent slices of raw tuna to dip into a soy and ginger and wasabi mixture I looked up and saw a woman working her way between the close tables from behind us and heading to the private corner of the deck overlooking the water in front of us.  She seemed a little unsteady on her feet as she grabbed a table with one step and then a chair with the next and I was wondering if she had decided to get drunk in mid-day.  She smiled at us as she passed and then proceeded to blue-tooth her way into some conversation as she faced the sparkling water.

She was pretty, pushing 40, and built like a stocky sex kitten.  She wore a soft blonde bob and dressed with casual chic.  There was some energy about her that caught my eye when she made eye contact.  When she finished her call she worked her way back past our table to the table behind us which was filled with other adults and children.  She winced as she leaned against an empty chair at our table.

She smiled and look at us and then said, "You two look like you have figured out this retirement thing."

I said, "I hope so." and then I asked if she was OK.  She looked in pain.

"Oh, 'Ma'am, I am just fine.  I am a warrior and working through this."

Since she clearly was open to talking and we were waiting for our entree, I asked if she had been in an accident.

"Oh, no ma'am, this is the result of a long story...an experiment on my body.  I was part of a drug trial at Walter Reed."

Because of her polite and frequent use of "ma'am" that clued me that she was either ex or current military or a southern raised lady.

She proceeded to tell us in a somewhat disjointed and lawyerly fashion that she was planning on an anonymous lawsuit so that others who had been in the same drug trial that debilitated her would get money when she won it.  She said that the drug had been 'black-boxed' now due to her campaign and while it was still advertised on TV, she said it could destroy lives.  She had taken it 10 years ago right before/after FDA approved it.  She was now being treated in one of the best, small, unknown and black hospitals in the city and she would not tell us its name...but "we could figure it out because we are smart people."

She also indicated she was married to a doctor who had lost his privileges at his hospital because he was outspoken and a warrior like her.  He now worked as an emergency doctor rotating through three hospitals in the area.  "We can afford this lawsuit and others cannot, so I feel it is right to pursue it."

We talked a little more about the illness although she continued to be cryptic because of her upcoming lawsuit and a little about how she had captured her husband when they first met knowing this was the love of her life and then she hobbled back to her family as they began to leave the restaurant.

Why people feel like sharing with us I do not know.  Hubby and I realized we must be looking our age, as she automatically assumed we were retired.  It was Memorial Day...so we could have both been off work...if we looked like we had the stamina to still work...which I guess we did not!  But we did look like the kind of people that one could share plans with for an anonymous lawsuit.

Anyway, I know a little about the FDA and have a friend who had worked there.  I know how budget constraints over decades and political interference and the pressure from the pharmaceutical industry had compromised its mission so much, and I guess I now saw what might or might not have been the result of a rush to market drug in real life.

But then we really don't need a gov'ment interfering in our lives, do we?  Pharmaceutical panels are just as concerned for our health and safety as insurance panels...right?  (I have got to stop this anger or I am going to need drugs...Om mani padme hum....OMG!)