http://mobile.politico.com/story.cfm?id=38396
Jun 13, 2010
Politico.com
Since last Oct. 9, POLITICO readers have endured a hardship: the
absence of Roger Simon's columns. Happily, that ends today and Simon's
POLITICO family is delighted to welcome him back.
The return of Ask Dr. Politics!
Q: Where have you been? It's been months.
A: I decided that while anyone can write about health care from the
outside, it takes a real journalist to explore it from the inside.
Q: So?
A: So I had my legs cut off.
Q: That's not funny!
A: You're telling me. You want to know what's funny about losing your
legs?
Q: What?
A: They're always in the last place you look.
Q: I can't tell if you are making this up. How did you lose your legs?
A: Would you believe a sky-diving accident?
Q: No.
A: How about a snowboarding pileup?
Q: No.
A: How about I got an infection and it led to blood poisoning?
Q: That, I believe.
A: The doctors had to cut off my right leg below the knee and almost
all of my left foot. After a long stint in intensive care, then seven
weeks at the National Rehabilitation Hospital in Washington, I am now
in a wheelchair. But I can't wait to get back on my own two --
artificial -- feet again.
Q: What will those be like?
A: I am hoping they will be like Iron Man, and I will be able to fly
and kick over buildings.
Q: You are being very brave about this.
A: It is amazing how brave you can be when you have no choice. Also, I
am on a lot of drugs.
Q: I have a gruesome and disgusting question.
A: Of course, you do. You are one of my readers.
Q: What do they actually do with amputated limbs? Bury them? Burn them?
What?
A: They put them on eBay.
Q: No!
A. Actually, I don't know what they do with them, but if I get a
strange package in the mail, I'll let you know.
Q: Have there been any aftereffects of your surgeries?
A: I keep having the same dream: I am floating in a dark, frigid void.
After what seems like an eternity, I see a faint light that grows
steadily brighter. I make my way to it. Seated on a golden throne and
surrounded by all manner of angels, there is a glowing figure that
seems to radiate infinite serenity. He motions me forward. I advance.
He bends down to whisper in my ear. "Win the morning," he says. Then I
wake up.
Q: What does that mean?
A: Politicos know.
Q: There must be a psychological aspect to what you are going through.
How are you handling all this?
A: I believe in what I once read: "Life is a club where they won't
stand for squawks, where they deal you only one hand, and you must sit
in. So even if the cards are cold and marked by the hand of fate, play
up, play up like a gentleman and a sport."
Q: Who wrote that?
A: Nathanael West.
Q: Who's he?
A: He's a blogger from Paramus, N.J.
Q: Is there anything we can do for you? Anything you need?
A: Pity.
Q: Pity?
A: Or an iPad. I can't decide which.
Q: I hear iPads are pretty cool.
A. Yeah, but pity is cool, too. I could call up somebody who never
returns my calls, for instance, and it would go like this:
Aide: Madam Secretary, Roger Simon is calling.
Secretary Clinton: You know I don't talk to morons. Hang up on that
geek.
Aide: But Madam Secretary, he has no feet now.
Secretary Clinton: My God! Put him through immediately, and find a
classified document I can leak to him!
Q: That's revolting. There are tens of millions of disabled people in
this country who refuse all forms of pity.
A: Good. There will be more for me. Also, I am thinking about product
endorsements. Flying commercial in a wheelchair can be a real pain, but
if, for instance, Northrop Grumman would make any of its fine aircraft
available to me, I would be really grateful.
Q: You're out of your mind.
A: Have I ever mentioned how sleek and powerful the B-2 Spirit is, to
say nothing of the EA-6B Prowler with its wing-mounted jamming pods?
Talk about a great company.
Q: I sense much of your braggadocio is to mask your fear, your fear of
not knowing what life holds for you next.
A: Au contraire, I know exactly what life holds for me next.
Q: What?
A: Parking in all those nifty handicapped only spots.
Roger Simon is POLITICO's chief political columnist.