What gall

After what feels like a very long absence, I'm back! I decided last night that if I could open a soda bottle without pain, I was well enough to blog again. My wrist brace will now (again) be my constant computer companion, but I'll live to type another day. :)

I can't tell you how much I missed "being" here. Oh, the stories I've missed, the discussions I would have liked to spark...the quizzes I didn't get to take! So, following along on the pain theme, I'll open with this article about the apparently widely reviled John Ashcroft and his gallbladder surgery. Talk about bile, forget what the gallbladder oozes, the rancor I heard being spewed in reaction to the news that Ashcroft had experienced a painful gallbladder attack and was going to have surgery caught me completely off guard. My own mother was glad that the bastard was in pain! I heard quite a few similar reactions from others, including one blog I visited yesterday (forgot to make a note of which one).

I'm no fan of his, no way, no how, and I think he is one of the most destructive elements of our current administration. The day Bush and his crew are out of our lives will be one of the happiest days in mine. But Ashcroft is still a person and I simply can't find it within myself to be glad that he had this happen. The only thing I can think is that people either really hate him with a passion that precludes compassion or that they've never had a bad gallbladder attack. I've had the same surgery Ashcroft just went through, with the same kind of pain preceeding it, and frankly I wouldn't wish that upon anyone, even an enemy (or a perceived enemy). Let someone else cast the first gallstone if they wish, but nobody's actions make them deserve that kind of pain in my book.