DISABLEDVETERANS.ORG Challenge- I talked with my parents this Christmas Eve about problems veterans face when getting VA health care services when I remembered this poem and wanted to issue this challenge.
The biggest problem I hear that veterans face is the lack of credibility VA lends us when we have problems with health care providers. Whenever a disagreement occurs, VA always puts the claims of VA officials over those of veterans without addressing credibility or trustworthiness.
My thoughts on that subject led to me musing about the line, “While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.” It made me wonder what it would look like in the dreams of VA emloyees featuring veterans not holding sugar-plums but instead holding audio recorders for each appointment.
Can you imagine what that would be like? Veterans would not longer have to struggle against a faceless bureaucracy when trying to prove what was said when. No, veterans would have concrete evidence in place to rebut negative agency claims.
Personally, I think this would be great in states where it is legal to record with only one party to the recording having knowledge of the recording.
So anyway, to the picture of the challenge, it would be great if some of you would modify the words of this Christmas classic with the backdrop of VA health care. My “go” would be,
“The doctors were nestled all sick in the head, as visions of records danced before them with dread”…
I am not a poet, but I would be curious to see any readers try their two cents. I will give a call out to the best version on a future post.
DISABLEDVETERANS.ORG Challenge, ‘Twas The Night Before Christmas…
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her ’kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
“Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of Toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle,
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night.”