This week in AB
Confession: I’m not a cowboy. Or a cowgirl. Or a cow person, for that matter.
I do, however, own a single pair of “dressy” boots, the dressiest of places to which I’ve worn them was my daughter’s wedding this past February — the only time they’ve ever seen actual dirt or that golden stuff I’m standing in.
For a pair of 10-year old footwear, they are barely scuffed being that Stampede happens but once a year and, even then, I’ve managed to steer clear of all the things one wishes to avoid where animals and drunkards are known to tread.
I grew up near Red Deer and did frequently attend the “Westerner Days” events. My family liked to watch “the chucks”. I was bored. After I got sick from a ride when I was 17, the midway stopped being a draw and, aside from taking the kids once in a while, I didn’t really think about it again until I started hanging around political folks.
That’s when I was introduced to this mostly public, yet also invite only, scene that exists around the city during Stampede.
Not being a cow-affiliate, I never found Stampede enticing — until I discovered it, too, was political.
Staffers, and lobbyists, and politicians, oh my.
For most of the people who attend those off-ground events, it’s not a time to party or let loose — it’s a week-long work event where company credit cards are flashed widely and networking, connecting, and “building bridges before you need them” is the only goal.
The gossip — which is offered, reciprocated, and never to be repeated — is just a bonus.
And the boots? Totally worth it.
Speaking of Stampede…
Spoiler: Trudeau’s leadership will outlast my pepper due to “scheduling logistics”.
Last week, I got a hot tip from one of my political group chats that the Prime Minister was cancelling his Stampede attendance. Obviously, this was relatively big news for all of the reasons I mentioned above (it wasn’t really about the boots).
To recap from the other week, there are a couple differing schools of thought on Trudeau remaining Liberal leader after a Cabinet shuffle and budget were supposed to change the tide of declining support: that, rather than throw it onto another leader, Trudeau should “take the ‘L’”, if that’s what the Liberals have coming to them, and; Trudeau is in the best position to fight off Poilievre.
Or, as the memes say, “why not both?”
Even though there’s still slightly more than a year until the next election, it feels like they may be taking a squeaky toy to a gun fight.
As a few of my political friends have pointed out, however, etiquette says that Trudeau gets to decide when to step down because he’s the leader that brought his party from third place to government in 2015 — just like Alberta NDP leader Rachel Notley, who chose to step down earlier this year after losing a second general election — and he’s the leader who won two more elections since.
Conservatives may have enjoyed a reverence for political etiquette with Harper, but Kenney was taken down, despite having successfully following in the man’s footsteps by uniting the provinces two conservative parties, and winning the 2019 election with a “historic” victory.
To be fair, Kenney left Alberta to the mercy of the “lunatics” after not receiving enough majority support to appease his ego. It was his choice to give up, his choice to walk away after not reaching a majority over 50+1 per cent that he was willing to accept.
I’ll accept that Trudeau gets to make that choice as well, but I’m not happy that I won’t have a say.
Don’t say “math is hard”, don’t say “math is hard”, don’t say “math is hard”…
The math isn’t really the main issue, it’s just one of many underlying issues.
First, I will reiterate, “it’s fucking cancer”.
Patients may not see their oncologist every day, but when they go for lab tests, those results are forwarded to the oncologist. When they see radiology, their results are forwarded to the oncologist. When they see their family doctor, those notes are forwarded to the oncologist. Now, if you had 191 new patients each year, that doesn’t mean your previous patients are no longer patients. It doesn’t mean these 191 are all suddenly no longer patients next year. One more time, it’s fucking cancer.
Second, according to some M.D.s on X (formerly “the Twitters”, as I like to call it, with much condescension), that there are 120 oncologists in Alberta is not, apparently, indicative of the number of oncologists actively working in Alberta.
You all know not to really trust my mathing, but even I understand that fewer oncologists actively working in Alberta than the number Smith rattled off means those doctors are looking after more, potentially a lot more, patients than 191 each.
I had two bouts with cervical cancer (get your Gardasil shot to prevent some types of cervical cancer). The first one was when I was about 19. Imagine, getting a call at 19 and being told you have stage 4 cancer. Props to the guy I was dating who said “I just hate the idea that I could have given this to you,” which I responded to with a haughty dose of Dunning-Kruger saying “pfft — cancer isn’t sexually transmitted”. And, to be fair to know-it-all 19-year old me, that’s true, but human papillomavirus is sexually transmitted, and it can cause both cervical and *cough* throat cancer (fun fact, men can protect their partners from HPV by getting the vaccine as well).
You don’t mess with cancer.
And while I will never understand the scheduling logic of putting first responders through day to night shifts on a weekly basis (because you want them alert, and not sliding to the floor during a conversation because they’re so damned tired), I will also not understand the logic behind saddling doctors with far more patients than they can reasonably keep up with and expect good, let alone better, outcomes.
But. There’s. More.
My daughter, who walked the path to wedded bliss earlier this year, lives with her husband in southern Alberta. Long story short, they’re making me a grandparent next year — in February, where we already have a pretty packed month consisting of eight birthdays and her wedding anniversary — let the celebrations begin!
Except…
She is back home to see her doctor today because there are no doctors accepting patients in her area. It’s a two hour drive.
I am a Cracked magazine cover right now. “What, me worried?”
Feeling super excited about the journeys she’ll be taking, and I mean around southern Alberta.
Tomorrow, she has an ultrasound in Calgary because she’s maybe 10-12 weeks along and these appointments are now behind. Her husband will drive up tomorrow to meet her there.
But, the carbon tax, amirite?
This is our healthcare, Alberta — good thing no one expected the UCP to do anything about it, hey?
Happy Stampede!
FFS.
Final thought
I’m going to write this one out and get totally personal here. My soon-to-be grandbaby has an Oma, two Grandmas, and two Nanas (because my side is kind of — no, totally is — young). I don’t want to be Grandma the third, or Nana the third.
I shared an AI attempt at a yearbook page with 14 sometime recently and we laughed and laughed and laughed over AI naming some poor fake person “Shimp”. He has decided I should be Shammy. I don’t know how to fight this, and I’m not certain I want to… at least I’d be Shammy the first…
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Calling them “lunatics” with quotes suggests they aren’t actual real life fucking lunatics.
Thanks for that family note at the end of a mind rocking article.
There weren't as many "Grandmas" involved when my first grandson was born.....however there were enough to cause me some concern...... problem solved when my little guy started calling me Bobbity (it morphed from the song (Bibbidi, Bobbidi Boo) I sang to him. Now I am Bobbity to all my grandchildren. So you don't have to be Grandma the 3rd..........the possibilities are endless.