Isiah Jacobson had a famous relative known to the world by the moniker of ‘Dr. Feelgood’, a name that the media people of his era had stuck him with. Dr. Feelgood, whose real name was Dr. Max Jacobson, was the great grandfather of Isiah Jacobson. Isiah’s family rarely talked about their famous or infamous relative, contingent upon one’s approval or disdain for the deceased doctor’s controversial medical treatment protocol. Dr. Max soon became known as the ‘doctor of the celebrities’. Following his death it became public knowledge that Max treated an array of famous people including baseball star Mickey Mantle, actress Marilyn Monroe, and President John F. Kennedy.
Dr. Max Jacobson was known for administering to his patients ‘miracle tissue regenerator shots’ that consisted of painkillers, animal hormones, steroids, enzymes, bone marrow, human placenta, and methamphetamine. He refused to reveal the exact details of his medicinal cocktail to anyone. The physician’s ‘miracle tissue regenerator shots’ proved to be extremely addictive and most, if not all, of Dr. Max’s patients became very dependent on their injections and consequently, the doctor himself. This was due to the injection’s exclusivity. The fact was that Dr. Jacobson was the ‘only game in town’ when a patient was seeking his controversial, unorthodox treatment protocol.
The physician of the celebrities was about to suffer a devastating blow to his professional career. The Bureau of Narcotics and Dangerous Drugs seized Jacobson’s massive supply of amphetamines. Consequently, ‘Dr. Feelgood’s medical license was revoked on April 25, 1975 by The New York State Board of Regents.
The Crayfish That Terrorized
By Ken David Stewart
Earl Dawson rolled over on his side of the bed and through glazed and blurry eyes glanced over at his Sony digital alarm clock. Bright red numerals indicated that it was 3:03 AM.
“Oh shit,” Earl said as he rolled over in the king size bed that he shared with Edith, his wife of twenty years. It was July 25, 2017 in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada. Earl and Edith owned a beautiful red brick home on Wellington Crescent in the wealthy area of the city. The successful couple’s home was flanked on each side by equally expensive houses. Wellington Crescent was populated by upwardly mobile professionals, doctors, lawyers and dentists and the like.
Earl rolled over toward his wife’s side of the bed. He knew from past experience that this was likely to be a useless and frustrating course of action.
Sleep had not come easily for Earl during the last two weeks. He had recently turned fifty -eight and had not been enjoying the initial years on his journey toward old age. Wasn’t life supposed to slow down and get easier as one reached his age? Whoever told Earl this tidbit of wisdom was a fool. One’s body got older and slower, you had aches and pains that you never had before and you had less energy to fight your daily battles. This was an appropriate metaphor for Earl’s present life as he was increasingly feeling like he was a somewhat disabled soldier fighting in a war that he was no longer sure that he could win.
Keith took hold of his Roku remote and found the Creflo Dollar channel on his tv. He had just decided to call a halt to his substitute teaching assignments for the rest of this year. Keith was exhausted and he really hadn’t been feeling well since January of 2017. His doctors could not properly say what ailed him so Keith had to come up with a diagnosis of his own. Left to his own devices, after days and hours of personal research team Keith concluded that he was suffering with chronic fatigue syndrome and fibromyalgia. Both of these medical conditions caused Keith to lack any significant and sustained energy to get done what he both needed and wanted to do.
He wanted to continue with his substitute teaching gigs, but lately he had found his assignments to be extremely exhausting to the degree that he was unable to do much but lie on the couch when he got home from work. Keith had managed to struggle through the majority of this year by relying upon sheer willpower, a doctor prescribed stimulant and a concoction of natural supplements. For a while his self designed treatment protocol appeared to be working. For about one month he felt relatively healthy and could occasionally string together two or three days in which he cold actually engage in some of his extracurricular hobbies after working all day.
Unfortunately, he had neither discovered the secret to sustained energy nor the fountain of youth. He woke up one morning to find that this get up and go had got up and gone. He found this realization to be very troubling and depressing.
Keith sure didn’t need any more things to make him feel depressed. He suffered from what is clinically termed double depression for pretty much all of his adult life. Double depression means that one is mildly depressed most of the time, but will occasionally succumb to severe episodes of major depression.
The Cougars hockey team became very unfocused once the reality of their circumstance sunk in. Their star goalie was being taken to the hospital with undetermined injuries. They prayed that Rick Miller’s injuries were not serious, but, at this point in time, they had no way of knowing.
Coach Brad Keenan gathered the rest of his team together at the bench while the players on the ice warmed up Miles Myers. The referee was explaining the penalties to be assessed to both the Cougars and the Knights team captains.
“Look you guys. What just happened on the ice was terrible, but we have to get our focus back. Eric Coswell has received a game misconduct and will be out for the rest of the game. Both teams will be playing a man short for the first five minutes. I’m going to send Joe Savard to the penalty box to serve the five -minute penalty. Guy Gilbert will serve the ten-minute misconduct penalty. Miles is warming up in goal as we speak. I realize that we lost two of our key players for the game, but we are not going to quit playing hard. I expect you guys to give Miles some increased protection by blocking shots wherever possible. You defencemen are really going to need to step up your game to make up for not having Eric Coswell. I am expecting every player on this team to play their A game during the next two periods. This is an opportunity for guys to really show both your courage and your character. I can guarantee that the Norberry Knights think that they are going to walk all over us, but we are not going to let that happen.”
Just as Brad finished his pep talk. The referee signalled for a face off to resume the game.
The Maplewood Cougars were inspired by their coach’s speech, but were more motivated by their collective anger at the Norberry Knights. They were sure that Rick was injured with intent and they wanted to show Norberry that they were not about to be intimidated by the size advantage that the Knights had. They started the second period with every intention of winning the game.
The referee had just dropped the puck for the opening face off when an altercation started on the east side of the stands. A few of Norberry’s fans had crossed over to the Maplewood supporters’ bleachers. Three Cougars fans were returning to their seats after getting a coffee at the concession stands when they were accosted by three thugs from Norberry’s side. One of the brawlers said, “This is payback for Glenn Davidson, you losers.”
Many of The Maplewood Cougars fans turned around to witness three of their own being manhandled by the opposition’s aggressors. Within seconds, several of the Cougars fans jumped in to help the victims of the vicious attack.
When Norberry’s fans saw what was happening in the opposite stands, many of them went around the arena to the Cougar’s side to join in the fray. After a few minutes had passed, approximately twenty people were pushing, shoving, kicking and throwing punches. Blood was starting to spill onto the arena’s floor.
As all this chaos was breaking out in the stands, both the players and the officials on the ice stopped playing the game and looked up into the stands. It was almost unnecessary when the head referee blew his whistle to officially end play. There were only three arena workers on duty. The senior worker said, “This fight in the stands is out of control and there’s no way I want to try to break it up. I’m calling the cops.”
The players that were on the ice both returned to their respective benches. The head referee skated over to both benches to talk to the coaches. He told both coaches that he was officially ending the game and that he would phone the convener to inform him of his decision. The two coaches both asked about the recorded out come of the game. The head referee stated that he didn’t know. The final decision would be up to the convener as to whether tonight’s game would go into the record books or declared, ‘no contest’. Whether or not the game would be replayed at another date he could not say.
Misty, along with Rick’s family followed the ambulance to St. Boniface Hospital. When they arrived at the hospital, Rick had already been taken to an emergency area for examination and treatment. Rick’s family and Misty were asked to find seats in the waiting room. Only about four other people were there before them. A couple of them were watching CNN on the widescreen tv while the other two looked worried and carried on a quiet conversation.
In approximately one hour, the admitting nurse called the family in to talk to the doctor. They shook hands with the young intern who introduced himself.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Olafson. I’ll be Rick’s attending physician this evening. Rick told me that his injuries occurred at the St. Vital arena where he was hammered into the boards by an opposing player.”
“That’s correct,” Rick’s father replied. “Only I wouldn’t refer to the kid who assaulted him as an opposing player. He’s a goon. I have a strong suspicion that he took orders from his coach to try to injure Rick. My son is the Cougars’ star goalie and Norberry knew that they would not win the game with Rick in goal.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” the young doctor said. “I once played junior hockey myself and I know that these types of incidents happen far too often. There are a few really bad coaches that will do anything to win a game.”
“How are you doing Rick?” Misty asked. She was wiping the tears from her eyes when she saw Rick grimace with pain.
“I’ll live,” Rick answered. “I just hope that the team gets good and mad and beats Norberry. I hope that Miles doesn’t get too nervous and plays well in goal.”
The young intern, Dr. Olafson addressed the family, “We’ve run several tests and taken x-rays. Fortunately, there won’t be any permanent damage to Rick’s neck or back. However, he does have quite a few nasty contusions on his body. The best treatment for these will be ice, Tylenol 3’s and rest. There is one serious concern I have regarding your son’s injuries.”
“What specifically?” Rick’s mother asked with a worried look on her face.
“Rick has suffered a concussion. I don’t foresee any permanent consequences. However, I may not be able to say the same if your son suffers another concussion during this season. I know that the final decision is up to Rick and the family. But my recommendation would be that Rick sit out the rest of this season.”
“No way!” Rick said sitting up in his hospital bed. “The Cougars need me to be there number one goalie this season. We have a chance to be city champions.”
“I understand your loyalty to your team. If you insist upon returning this season, I must order you not to play for the next three weeks.” Dr. Olafson said.
The longer the fight in the stands at St. Vital Arena went on, the more spectators participated, either as active combatants, or they were only there to shout out encouragement to their friends. One of the brawlers was thrown heavily against an arena pillar and had the back of his head cracked open. A thick stream of blood now trickled down the white pillar behind the man’s head.
Six burly police constables had now entered the arena. One of the spectators, a pudgy little man in his mid thirties yelled out a warning, “Hey you guys! Break it up. The cops are here. Run for the back exit!”
In under a minute all the fighting had ceased and the arena was clear of brawlers and spectators. The police just watched as the fight’s participants fled out the back door of the arena. The senior arena employee walked up to the police constables.
A somewhat, stocky constable appeared to be in charge. He looked to be in his mid-forties. The police officer turned to the head arena attendant, “Looks like quite the kafuffle you had going on here. We’re not going to bother chasing those guys. There’s too many of them and it would be too hard figuring out which men we should charge. My men will just walk around to make sure there aren’t any more fans hiding somewhere in the arena. I will need you to show me to your office so that I can ask you some questions for the police report.”
“No problem, Officer.”
Gypsy had just arrived at the Greyhound terminal in Winnipeg. After the summer rock festival, he hitchhiked to Fargo, North Dakota where he knew a few friends. While he was there Gypsy found work as a casual employee at the Fargo Addictions Center. He enjoyed working there, but lost his position after he was seen smoking a joint behind a large garbage bin during his coffee break.
Gypsy had been with a lot of females, but from time to time, he would think about Misty, the girl he met at the rock festival when he was in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada. He knew that Misty’s dad hated him, but this didn’t deter him from wanting to go back to Winnipeg. As Gypsy had just lost his job in Fargo and the people he had been staying with weren’t really close friends, he figured that now was as good a time as any to leave the United States and head for Canada.
Gypsy bought a Greyhound bus ticket and was soon on his way to Winnipeg. When he arrived at the bus terminal in Winnipeg his first stop was at the Salisbury House Restaurant. He was very hungry as he didn’t eat anything during the bus ride. He was also very tired, even though he attempted to take some short naps on the bus ride. Gypsy thought that a Big Nip, a plate of fries and some strong Salisbury House coffee might help him feel human again.
The Salisbury House was very busy as they were getting the lunch time crowd. Gypsy could see only one spot left in a red booth where a young man was sitting. Gypsy said,” Hey man. Can I join you?”
The young man was Norman Schaefer, the guy who was going to jump off the Osborne Bridge. He looked quite different now. Norman was wearing green work pants and a red tee shirt that had his name sewn on it. He gave Gypsy a friendly smile that revealed that he had lost his two front teeth.
“I’m just on my lunch break. Seeing as I cashed my first pay cheque today. I decided to treat myself to a restaurant meal. I usually just bring along a bag lunch they give me at the homeless shelter. I get the bag lunches for free so I shouldn’t complain, but they don’t taste that great. They’re generally the left overs from last night’s supper made into a sandwich,” Norman said.
“That doesn’t sound that appetising. Oh, I should introduce myself. My name’s Gypsy. I just arrived here by bus from Fargo, North Dakota. Do you work at a service station, Norm?”
Norman laughed. “Oh, gee, I wonder how you know my name?” lowering his chin to look at the name tag on his shirt.
“It’s probably not too hard to figure what I do either, pointing to the lettering on his tee shirt that said. ‘Allen’s Auto Clinic’. There was another dead give away, the dirt and grease under Norman’s finger nails.
“So, what brings you to Winnipeg, Gypsy? Do you have family or relatives here?
“No, I was in Winnipeg during the summer and made a few good friends here. This might turn out to be just a visit for me, but I kind of like Winnipeg, at least in the warmer season. Who knows? I might even look for a job while I’m staying here,” Gypsy said.
“Where will you live?” Norm asked.
“Well, I know that there are a lot of cheap hotels and motels in Winnipeg. I might rent a room at one of them. I don’t have much money on me so I’m going to have to go the least expensive route, at least until I get a job.”
“You might want to try The House of Hope. It runs a men’s hostel downtown. I have a friend who works there. He’s the same guy who got me the job at the auto clinic. The shelter is actually pretty good as far as homeless shelters go. You get a single room to yourself and they have a main dining room where all the meals for the residents are cooked. The staff keeps it fairly clean. They don’t have beg bugs or anything. The best part is that they only charge rent on an ability to pay basis. Most of the guys there get their rent paid by welfare,” Norm said.
“I might want to check the place out.” Gypsy said.
“I can take you there right after work and I’ll introduce you to my friend, Lloyd Roberts, the evening shift supervisor.”
“Your friends name is Lloyd Roberts?” Gypsy asked as a wave of anxiety gripped him.”
It sounds like you’re living a very unstable life right now,” Roger observed. “How did you get addicted to opiates?”
“It all started in high school. I think I was around fifteen years old at the time. Opiates are not the first drug I ever took. I’m no angel. When I was twelve my friends and I started smoking marijuana and drinking alcohol. Sometimes we’d even steal some of our parents’ prescription drugs.
Then, at a party I met another girl and got into a physical fight with her. During the fight she pushed me down stairs leading to the second floor of the house. I fell all the way down the stairs until I landed on my back in the stair well. I lied there and don’t remember how long I remained unconscious. When I finally ‘came to,’ I was lying on a hospital bed. I could see a doctor and a nurse standing over me.
When he could see that I had regained consciousness, the doctor began to speak to me. He was an older man, probably in his mid-forties. His hair was short and was a salt-and-pepper color. He wore dark rimmed glasses.”
‘You are very lucky girl,” he said. “You took a very bad fall and could have been seriously injured. There are a lot of nasty contusions on your shoulders and back, but there doesn’t appear to be any paralysis or permanent injury to your back or spine. I will be sending you for some x-rays just to be on the safe side. How is your pain?’
“I tried to move and let out a scream of pain. ‘Very bad,’ I told the doctor. He took out a prescription and wrote me a prescription for OxyContin. As soon as I took my first OxyContin I felt wonderful. The pain was still there, but I felt like I was floating on a cloud. I didn’t have a worry in the world. From that point on I was an opiate addict,” Glenda said. “Roger, do you mind if I go outside for a smoke. A cigarette might help me to calm down.”
“No. go right ahead. Glenda, do you like dogs?
“I love dogs,” Glenda answered.
My old dog Buddy is in the backyard. He’s a very old black Labrador retriever, but he still enjoys going for a walk. Would you be able to take Buddy for a walk while you are having your smoke break?”
“Absolutely. I’d love to. I didn’t know that you owned a dog, Roger. I could hear some barking outside, but I assumed it was a neighbor’s dog,” Glenda replied.
“After your walk you can bring Buddy in the house. He is a little shy of people he doesn’t know, but after you’ve spent a lot of bit of time with him, he’ll love you. Especially, if you take him for a walk,” Roger said getting out of his Lazy Boy chair.
“You don’t need to get up. I’ll find Buddy on my own and I’ll take him for a walk.”
“Buddy’s leash is hanging up on a nail on the back door,” Roger said settling back down into his chair. Glenda grabbed the leash and opened the back door. Buddy looked up at her and began to bark. Glenda had owned a dog when she was living with her mother and was very good at handling shy dogs. She found a box of dog treats on top of Roger’s refrigerator. Glenda took a few treats out of the box to give to Buddy. She slowly walked up to the old black lab, spoke very gently to him and gave him a treat. Buddy took the treat very readily and Glenda didn’t have any problem attaching the dog’s leash. Buddy wagged his tail to indicate that he was more than ready to go on a walk with Glenda.
Episode 5 of Chaos:
Roger had a regular morning routine. On weekdays he would turn on his phone and wait for a call from the school division giving him a substitute teaching assignment for the day. Roger did not really want to accept an assignment today. He had just finished a three day assignment teaching English at Murdoch MacKay Collegiate. Roger had a good time teaching there as the class was reading and discussing F. Scott Fitzgerald’s novel, The Great Gatsby. Although Roger had thoroughly enjoyed his time at Murdoch MacKay, he was getting older and felt like he needed a day off.
He also felt guilty when he spent too many days away from his writing. Roger wrote fiction novels and found that the writing process was very therapeutic for him. He decided that he would decline any teaching assignments for today and would spend the day working on his current writing project, a novel titled Winter Dreams.
Roger’s morning routine seldom varied. He would get up and boil some water for his Valentus coffee. Roger would then fill up a large glass with water. The glass that he used to wash down his medications was actually a large holder for flowers that he had purchased at Dollarama.
As he got older Roger appeared to be taking more and more medications. He had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder when he was in his late teens. His psychiatrist prescribed a cocktail of antidepressants. While drinking his coffee and taking his meds Roger would listen to one of his many Holy Bible audiobooks.
Roger had been a Christian since his late twenties. When he first got saved he was really just buying fire insurance. Roger simply did not want to go to hell. For almost three decades he really didn’t have an intimate relationship with the Lord. When Roger was in his early fifties he was introduced to Charismatic and Pentecostal theology through a co-worker. Since then he had been baptised in the Holy Spirit and received some of the spiritual gifts notably prophetic visions and words of knowledge.
Episode 3 of Chaos:
To Roger’s delight and with the help of drinking Valentus coffee, going for daily bike rides and going for regular workouts at Shapes gym, he was able to get his weight down to two-hundred thirty-five pounds. About a year ago Roger went to his doctor for a complete physical and weighed in at three hundred ten pounds. This was a turning point for Roger. He had been avoiding looking at himself in the mirror for quite some time now. Roger felt too much shame to see his reflection in the mirror. Although his present weight was still above his ideal weight according to the body mass index chart that his doctor showed him, Roger felt much better about himself. He could now look at himself in the mirror without fear of embarrassment. In fact, Roger thought that he now looked good. Not only had he lost a great deal of body fat he had regained a significant amount of muscle mass. Roger was now very proud of himself. With hard work he had achieved a major life goal. He now felt a lot more confident when he went out in public.