A Personal Letter To Mitt Romney... Shared from Re-Elect President Obama

Dear Mitt Romney:

I saw your video.

I saw you speaking candidly and off the cuff about me. Don’t get me wrong, I know that you didn’t mention me by name or anything, but we both know you were talking about me.

When you were talking about 47% of the population that is never going to vote for you because we are “dependent victims” who lazily live on government programs like food stamps, I can’t help but take personal offense. In fact, once you decided to lump in anybody who is never going to vote for you, you weren't just talking about me, but many people I love, and about 90% of the people I know.

My children eat because of food stamps, Mr. Romney. Now, sir, I want you to picture a Wyoming cowgirl: a mother, a fighter, a righteous, determined, God-loving woman. A Rocky Mountain Grizzly Bear Mamma that would make Sarah Palin’s makeup-wearing pit bull shudder. Picture me staring you in the eyes as I ask you, “What business have you got talking about me and mine like that?”

I am watching you run your Richie Rich mouth on TV right now, with your little flag lapel pin over your heart. You brag that you will bring “12 million new jobs and rising take home pay.” Quite frankly, I have no reason to believe you or your failures in arithmetic. Even if you did manage such a feat, I’d point to the 4.5 million job head start you had thanks to President Obama saving the nation from the failed GOP policies which you use as a platform, and which nearly caused a second Great Depression.

You said that you think that 47% of Americans “think they are victims” and you even said it wasn’t your job to worry about us.

First, I must argue with you. I am not a victim. I have been beaten. I have been bullied. I have been raped. I have been addicted. I have been alone. I have been poor. I have been homeless. I have been sick and broken. I have chosen — each and every single time — to stand up and pull myself and my family out of those circumstances. I beat every one of them without any riches to aid me. I did that without any inheritance, any gifted stocks or bonds, any loans, any rich family, or any elevators for my cars. I did it because I am not a victim, I am an American. I am the Mom-in-Chief of my house and nothing less than the very best that I can provide will do. I am the product of women who forded rivers to fetch the mail after working a hard day’s labor on the Laramie high plains. I am a force to be reckoned with.

I f you don’t believe me, you could ask the doctor who has to take fluid from my spine on a regular basis to preserve my ability to see, due to a rare disease. If you don’t believe me, you can ask our Ambassador to China Gary Locke, who personally invited me to a bill signing when I helped Washington State legislate protection for children in schools against bullying by sharing my own experiences. If you don’t believe me, you can ask my children who have seen me struggle but always, always provide for them. Any one of these people will tell you, that this American is not a victim.

You call me entitled. I devote every day of my life to bettering the planet I live on, with no hope of profit. I am sorry, sir, but you calling me entitled is like the pot calling the dove black. That isn’t going to work. I challenge you to stand at my side and let the American public judge which of us is entitled. I spend every dime of my and my husband’s earned income as quickly as it comes in, right here in my town. Every dime I earn and spend stays in America. I am the ultimate Job Creator. Who are you to challenge me?

You call me entitled. Every year on April 15th, I am certain that I have shown every cent that went through my pocket honestly. I dream of a day when I am well enough off to pay taxes. I fantasize of the flourish with which I will write my first check to the IRS. I would give any earthly belongings I have to be self-sufficient enough to be able to pay it forward to the society that I love.

No, you cannot challenge me, Mitt Romney. I challenge you: where are your tax returns?

I fought, I graduated at the top of my class in college, and I pursued graduate studies. I took loans against myself, believing that this would pay off, but then, in 2009, something happened.

No, it wasn’t Barack Obama’s inauguration; it was a sudden injury to my spine that ended up revealing not one but two severe spinal diseases. Since then I have been unable to finish my studies or to work. I’d like to know, Mr. Romney: how many months of physical therapy, how many of my surgeries, how many of my scars must I share to prove my devotion to wanting to be better? How many of my efforts must I submit before you’ll see me, an American citizen, as worthy of your worry? When you tell me to take responsibility for myself, I ask you: what after that?

This evening, when you justified your awful statements in that video, you said that you had said what you did because you were reassuring your donators that you could win this election. I’m sorry that you have to pander to your base like that. You seem to have sold out your soul. You have forgotten “the eye of the needle” with that wealth you’ve got. You’ve left behind Matthew 24:50. I hate to be the one to tell ya buddy, but you are not the promised one. The promised one understands that the 47% you are talking about are more than low wage workers and elderly people who worked their whole lives and paid into the system, they are the 100% that your God is concerned with when he said “Love thy neighbor.” You may pay a tithe with your wallet, but it’s obvious you’ve neglected to tithe your heart.

My husband left for work at 7 AM. It is now 9 PM and he won’t be home again for two more hours from his second job today. I spent yesterday at the emergency room. I have been waiting for two years for Social Security. I do not understand. How much more do we have to work to show you that your call for jobs isn’t enough? You must also be concerned for the whole nation, and whether we eat, and whether we have medicine. You must care if a hardworking, devoted family like mine is unable to survive after investing their best efforts. How many jobs do you expect every American to take? Three? Four?

You simply must stop and consider those you dismiss as beneath you or you cannot be our leader. It is an unwritten but widely understood rule of the presidency. I don’t know what they taught you when you were out there scalping businesses hard-won on the backs of people like that 47% you so rudely kick around, but in the real world, we care when Americans suffer. We care when you forget the young military men and women who serve our nation by sacrificing their lives. We care when Americans go hungry. We care when Americans jobs are sent overseas and rich men hide societal resources in offshore accounts. We care that we are being ripped off and even if you find profit and power in our suffering, we still exist, we still care, and we will still stand up.

See? You called me a victim, you called me entitled, you called me a lot of other things in that video, but on every count you are wrong. Just by writing you this letter, I’ve proven I am not your victim. Just by living my life of hard and dutiful effort I have proven that I am not entitled. In fact, I consider it a duty as a citizen of this Great United States to shout loudly and proudly: “Mitt Romney is not and never will be my President!”

I warn you Mr. Romney, the one thing that I have not, and will not ever lose, is my voice. I will sound it each and every one of these 50 days until Barack Obama is re-elected, we will vote with Compassion, and Wisdom, and Empathy…and you, sir, can keep your spite and your hate and your rhetoric and see your way out.

Sincerely,

Sarah Zacharias, a.k.a. The Bucking Jenny

Dr. Ronald L. Beeley Killed My Dog

Today should have been Leo's 6th birthday.  And it would have been, had it not been for the negligence, unprofessional-ism, and incompetence of Dr. Ronald L. Beeley.

From the time he was a puppy, Leo would go to the park with my dad every morning.  At the park, there was a group of dogs that loved to play together.  There were never any problems.  The owners could just let them off the leash to play.  It was a dream scenario for a dog, and Leo loved it.  He was a Golden Retriever, so he always has a pleasant disposition.  For the most part, he was well behaved because he was very smart.  The other dogs and their owners loved Leo, and he loved them...and the time he spent every morning with my father.

This activity kept Leo in tremendous shape.  With the exception of some ears that sometimes got a little itchy, he had no health issues.  My dad would ride his bike with Leo, and when Leo caught a glimpse of the other dogs in the park, he would drag my dad on his bike across the grass...even if my dad had the brakes applied.

Then one Tuesday in April of 2010, Leo suddenly stopped playing.  He let out a slight whimper and my father knew right away that Leo had injured his rear left leg.  My father rode home on his bike with Leo in his lap.  My mother took him to their veterinarian of over 40 years and learned that Leo had torn a ligament in his left knee.  The veterinarian, not being a surgeon, contacted the doctor that normally performed his surgeries.  The doctor was on vacation and would not be available for two weeks.  The veterinarian did not want to make my parents or Leo wait, so he made some phone calls and he was told to bring in Dr. Ronald L. Beeley.  Leo's surgery was scheduled for that Friday.  Leo went to sleep with a left leg that was causing him considerable pain, he would wake up in even more pain.

After the surgery, Leo was going to spend the night in the animal hospital, so there wasn't much thought as to how he was doing.  Around 9 o'clock that night, there was a knock on my parents' door.  It was their vet, and he was pale, shaking, and extremely sweaty.  He could hardly get the words out as to what had happened.  What he said next was incredible.  Dr. Ronald L. Beeley had performed surgery on Leo's healthy right leg.  So Leo went to sleep with a left rear leg that hurt and didn't work right, and woke up with two rear legs that hurt and didn't work right.

How could this happen?

When Leo went in, the technician in charge of prepping Leo for surgery shaved the wrong leg.  For a capable doctor that would have been a minor mistake.  But Dr. Ronald L. Beeley did not look at the chart.  He knew he was there to operate on a knee, and just went right to work on the shaved leg.  There was a small bit of scar tissue in that right knee from when Leo was a puppy, so Dr. Beeley figured that was what he was there to fix.  He then proceeded to try a new and unproven technique to fix the knee that did not need fixing.  When he was done, Dr. Beeley stitched Leo up and went on his negligent way.  That was the beginning of Leo's nightmare.

My parents were upset, but their vet, who they had known for 40 years, promised to make it right.  Not only would they not have to pay for the surgery, but the vet would cover the cost of the surgery needed to make Leo better. 

When he came home, Leo was in a lot of pain and could hardly walk.  They had to wait a few weeks to allow him time to heal before going in for the surgery to fix the original problem.  It didn't take long for the unnecessarily repaired right knee to come apart.  Whatever Dr. Beeley did didn't work.  It probably didn't help that Leo didn't have a good back leg to stand on, and the extra strain undid whatever experiment Dr. Beeley had performed.

The injury occurred on April 13th, with the first surgery taking place on the 16th.  From that point Leo underwent multiple surgeries on each leg.  Each time, something happened to make them have to go in again.  There was a time when he was able to get to the park, but it wasn't the same.  He couldn't run with the other dogs, but he still enjoyed just watching them run around him.  But every time it looked like he was getting better, he had to have another surgery.  On top of the structural issues, he also got several infections.  He was constantly medicated on anti-inflammatory pills, antibiotics, and pain killers.  Through it all, he never seemed unhappy.  You could tell he was in pain, but he always had that classic Golden Retriever smile and still made his best effort to enthusiastically greet my dad every night when he came home from work.  Leo loved everybody, and everybody loved him.

On June 8th of this year, Leo just didn't seem well.  He did not want to eat, and everything he did eat, he almost immediately threw up.  We thought it was just an upset stomach.  But that night, Leo wanted to stay outside.  He spent the night digging in various places around the yard, and Leo had never dug before.  In the morning, he didn't want to move.  He tried to drink water, but he just threw it up.  My father rushed him to the vet, and their staff sprang into action.  By this point Leo couldn't move.  They took care of him like he was one of their children.  They made him comfortable, got the IVs going to get him hydrated, and started running tests.  He was in good hands.

At 10am the vet called and said that Leo had a perforated bowel and would need surgery.  At 11am he called and said that Leo had passed away.

The vet showed us all kind of test results and such, but it just came down to the fact that Leo's body just couldn't take it any more.  Just 14 months earlier he had been completely healthy, but those last 14 months were spent in and out of surgery after surgery and in pain.  Up until those last two days, Leo was smiling.

Leo's death has left a huge hole in our family.  Even our cat Buddy is not the same.  He used to spend time every night kneading Leo's side and snuggling with him.  I'm not sure Leo enjoyed it as much as Buddy, but he let him do it, and they seemed happy.  It was their thing.

Nothing we can do will ever bring Leo back, but I want to make sure that no other animal has to go through what Leo went through.  Had he had the correct surgery on the correct leg the first time, it is unlikely that this would have ever happened.  Blame needs to be placed where blame was earned.  Had Dr. Ronald L. Beeley done his job then this would have never happened.  Dr. Beeley just couldn't take the time to check the chart.  Even if he would have just performed his shoddy brand of surgery on the correct leg, Leo would probably still be here today.  Instead we have to celebrate his 6th birthday without him.  

You can check out Buddy and Leo on YouTube.

I love you Leo.  I hope you're running somewhere.

Working Through Tough Times

It has been one hell of a week.

On Thursday, our five and a half year old Golden Retriever passed away unexpectedly.  We are still in shock.  On Wednesday, he seemed to be in some discomfort, and when he wasn't better by Thursday, we rushed him to the vet. 

At 10:30am, the vet called and said he needed surgery for a perforated intestine.  We were concerned but figured he was in good hands. 

An hour later we got the call that he slipped away and died.

Friday morning I woke up early to dig a grave.  We laid him to rest in a nice spot near the back fence with his favorite stuffed gorilla.  It has been a sad time.

I just started blogging, and most of it is for business.  This will be my personal one, although I'm not yet sure what topics I will cover.  I guess I'll figure it out eventually.

Today I just want to think about Leo.