Yesterday two people inguired about the availability of Bazooka beds. This broke months and months of silence. What can it mean?

    Well, one inquiry was from my Pastor whose father is in hospice care. He asked about the cost of a device seeking to bring comfort to father as he passes from this world to a far, far better place. The second inquiry was from a brother-in-law who wonders about the availability of the device. He asks, "Are you able to restore your relationship with the patent holder?

    This represents the two sides of the conundrum. My Pastor trusts that the Bazooka device is all I have represented it to be and wants to comfort his father. At the individual human level, the microcosm where modern health care has broken down, he is anxious to apply a better remedy than that system is prepared to deliver his dad. And, at the other end, my brother-in-law is earnest about solving a big problem by encouraging someone he knows to take a hard look at the issue of bedsores in America. His friend, a successful entrepreneur now retired, has rededicated his life to a foundation that seeks to help the paralyzed.

    Today I anticipate their calls with no clear idea of what to say. I asked each for 24 hours to think it through. The patented medical device Bazooka is capable of imploding the wound care industry by drying up the bedsores that feed it. It is this power that has rallied all of the various interested parties against it. As long as I remain alone in this cause they prevail without much trouble at all. My present circumstances mean I am unable to dedicate time or money, I have none of either, to this mission. I will blog as often as I can, between jobs and sleep and precious family time broken into increments of minutes only; the occasional meal, passing my daughter or wife in the hallway, a sentence or two between us.

    Why God? These two inquiries in one day. And what am I going to say?