Sunday, June 21, 2009

Golf Course Law Suits

It has been my experience that folks who do this type of damage feel they are immune from liability so just anticipating my next steps...

http://www.mrgoodgolf.com/blog/golf-course-lawsuits/

http://hamptonroads.com/2008/01/woman-struck-golf-ball-files-suit,-alleging-design-flaw-beach-course

The above case looks like a good one - apparently from talking to local golfers, it's the number 1 hole on the course that seems to line up with not only my house but the others next to me - I mean you see at least 3 or 4 balls a day around these houses - and since my house was built in 1915, I seriously doubt if the course was here before then - so I'd say they should move the number 1 hole or put up a netting to prevent damage to the houses along the north side of the golf course!

http://goliath.ecnext.com/coms2/gi_0199-6004824/Recent-trends-in-anti-discrimination.html

http://www.methowvalleynews.com/story.php?id=449

http://www.allbusiness.com/government/government-bodies-offices/10270003-1.html

http://www.accessmylibrary.com/coms2/summary_0286-16647017_ITM

http://www.nytimes.com/2003/08/24/nyregion/lawsuit-12-inches-v-homes.html

Letter to Nowata Golfers - Bad Golfers in Nowata Oklahoma!

The holes are all next to my air conditioner
Three hits close to the air conditioner
Look how it cracks the siding

another hole

Another hole next to the air conditioner

This one was really hit hard went clear thru the siding

Look at this - all this in about a week

You can see another dent on this side of the air conditioner - it could have been hit twice

Clearly a golf ball hit here - they make those nice little round dents

You can't miss them - this air conditioner is a heater and air conditioner costing about $1,000.00 and in 100 degree heat in Oklahoma, you can't do without one!
Letter to Nowata Golf Course:

June 21, 2009

Nowata Golf Club
Mr. Wayne Reeder
507 W Delaware Ave
Nowata, OK 74048-2554

Re: Golf Ball Damage

Dear Mr. Reeder:

This is to inform you that the golf ball damage to my property is completely unnecessary.

Nowata Golf Course is a very small course, if your golfers are unable to control their balls when they hit them, then they should take lessons or go to a driving range to improve their shooting ability.

My air conditioner has a big dent in the side of it from someones golf ball! If it goes out, I expect either them or your club to step forward and replace the unit with another of the same or higher value.

Nowata is a very small course and it is not necessary to take power shoots to see how far you can drive the ball.

Please, inform your golfers I will look to them for repairs for damages to my property. If they do not step forward, then I will expect the club to take appropriate steps to repair damages.

Amazing how inconsiderate your golfers are!

Sincerely,

Charlotte Coats

*I must say, the golf ball damage within the last couple of weeks, all seems to be in the area of my air conditioner - there are at least 3 to 4 new dents in the siding as well - if I were of a suspicious mind, I'd almost think that someone was using the air conditioner as golf ball target practice - I find it highly unusual that there would be so many new *divots* all in one location...hmmmm....not to mention my car is parked in the driveway in the front of the house, across the street from the golf course*


Nowata, Oklahoma Golfers!!

Well, I've seen some bad golfing in my days...but those folks at the Nowata Golf Course are really bad!

This is a rather small golf course but they hit their balls like they're on the Peeble Beach course!!

Found a big dent in my air conditioning today!!

Guess it's time to send out a letter, I find it amazing the houses on both sides of me don't get it like the side of my house does!!

Hey! I'm not made of money here and really don't feel like paying for their bad golfing!!

So you think Nationalized Health Care would be any better? Think again!

American Indians receiving 'substandard' healthcare
June 15, 2009 — 2:50pm ET By Dan Bowman

http://www.fiercehealthcare.com/story/american-indians-receiving-substandard-healthcare/2009-06-15

In a sad, but all too true case of healthcare negligence in the United States, the Associated Press reports that the Indian Health Service System's level of care for it's 2 million patients in 35 states is "grossly substandard" a good portion of the time. Among other reportable statistics, death rates for American Indian infants were found to be 40 percent higher than their white counterparts.

Many qualified American Indians don't apply for services such as Medicare and Medicaid because they don't have access to the sign-up process, says the Associated Press. A lack of federal dollars also is a big reason for the poor health statistics of American Indians; Congress approved a budget of $3.6 billion for the Indian Health Service System for this year, not nearly enough to attract top-tier doctors, or purchase top-of-the-line equipment.

Heck, even inmates in federal prison have it better when it comes to healthcare: 2005 data points out that one-third more is spent, per capita, on the healthcare of felons in federal prison than on healthcare for reservations. While Sen. Byron Dorgan (D-ND) has attempted to bring this issue to light, he has not had any luck getting any legislation passed. Furthermore, a problem of political "clout" exists: Ron His Horse is Thunder, chairman of the Standing Rock tribe, pointed out to the Associated Press that his tribe is "not one congruent voting bloc in any one state or area."

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Consider this as Congress goes forward on Nationalizing Health Care!

Promises, promises
Indian health care's forgotten victims
BY Mary Clare Jalonick Associated Press Writer - 06/15/2009

http://www.mtstandard.com/articles/2009/06/15/state/hjjajdiejcjjfg.txt

Ada White talks about her great niece Ta'shon Rain Little Light, seen in the photo, during an interview with the Associated Press in Crow Agency recently. Ta'shon died of cancer in a matter of months subsequent to a misdiagnosis of depression by the local Indian Health Service. AP photos

Wrong diagnosis leads to death of child from cancer in Crow Agency CROW AGENCY — Ta'Shon Rain Little Light, a happy little girl who loved to dance and dress up in traditional American Indian clothes, had stopped eating and walking. She complained constantly to her mother that her stomach hurt.

When Stephanie Little Light took her daughter to the Indian Health Service clinic in this wind-swept and remote corner of Montana, they told her the 5-year-old was depressed.

Ta'Shon's pain rapidly worsened and she visited the clinic about 10 more times over several months before her lung collapsed and she was airlifted to a children's hospital in Denver. There she was diagnosed with terminal cancer, confirming the suspicions of family members.

A few weeks later, a charity sent the whole family to Disney World so Ta'Shon could see Cinderella's Castle, her biggest dream. She never got to see the castle, though. She died in her hotel bed soon after the family arrived in Florida.

"Maybe it would have been treatable," says her great-aunt, Ada White, as she topically recounts the last few months of Ta'Shon's short life. Stephanie Little Light cries as she recalls how she once forced her daughter to walk when she was in pain because the doctors told her it was all in the little girl's head.

Ta'Shon's story is not unique in the Indian Health Service system, which serves almost 2 million American Indians in 35 states.

On some reservations, the oft-quoted refrain is "don't get sick after June," when the federal dollars run out. It's a sick joke, and a sad one, because it's sometimes true, especially on the poorest reservations where residents cannot afford health insurance. Officials say they have about half of what they need to operate, and patients know they must be dying or about to lose a limb to get serious care.

Wealthier tribes can supplement the federal health service budget with their own money. But poorer tribes, often those on the most remote reservations, far away from city hospitals, are stuck with grossly substandard care. The agency itself describes a "rationed health care system." The sad fact is an old fact, too. The U.S. has an obligation, based on a 1787 agreement between tribes and the government, to provide American Indians with free health care on reservations.

But that promise has not been kept. About one-third more is spent per capita on health care for felons in federal prison, according to 2005 data from the health service.

In Washington, a few lawmakers have tried to bring attention to the broken system as Congress attempts to improve health care for millions of other Americans. But tightening budgets and the relatively small size of the American Indian population have worked against them. "It is heartbreaking to imagine that our leaders in Washington do not care, so I must believe that they do not know," Joe Garcia, president of the National Congress of American Indians, said in his annual state of Indian nations' address in February.

Statistics staggering When it comes to health and disease in Indian country, the statistics are staggering.

American Indians have an infant death rate that is 40 percent higher than the rate for whites. They are twice as likely to die from diabetes, 60 percent more likely to have a stroke, 30 percent more likely to have high blood pressure and 20 percent more likely to have heart disease.

American Indians have disproportionately high death rates from unintentional injuries and suicide, and a high prevalence of risk factors for obesity, substance abuse, sudden infant death syndrome, teenage pregnancy, liver disease and hepatitis.

While campaigning on Indian reservations, presidential candidate Barack Obama cited this statistic: After Haiti, men on the impoverished Pine Ridge and Rosebud Reservations in South Dakota have the lowest life expectancy in the Western Hemisphere.

Those on reservations qualify for Medicare and Medicaid coverage. But a report by the Government Accountability Office last year found that many American Indians have not applied for those programs because of lack of access to the sign-up process; they often live far away or lack computers. The report said that some do not sign up because they believe the government already has a duty to provide them with health care.

The office of minority health at the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, which oversees the Indian Health Service, notes on its Web site that American Indians "frequently contend with issues that prevent them from receiving quality medical care. These issues include cultural barriers, geographic isolation, inadequate sewage disposal and low income." Indeed, Indian health clinics often are ill-equipped to deal with such high rates of disease, and poor
clinics do not have enough money to focus on preventive care. The main problem is a lack of federal money. American Indian programs are not a priority for Congress, which provided the health service with $3.6 billion this budget year.

Officials at the health service say they can't legally comment on specific cases such as Ta'Shon's. But they say they are doing the best they can with the money they have — about 54 cents on the dollar they need.

One of the main problems is that many clinics must "buy" health care from larger medical facilities outside the health service because the clinics are not equipped to handle more serious medical conditions. The money that Congress provides for those contract health care services is rarely sufficient, forcing many clinics to make "life or limb" decisions that leave lower-priority patients out in the cold.

"The picture is much bigger than what the Indian Health Service can do," says Doni Wilder, an official at the agency's headquarters in Rockville, Md., and the former director of the agency's Northwestern region. "Doctors every day in our organization are making decisions about people not getting cataracts removed, gall bladders fixed." On the Standing Rock Reservation in North Dakota, Indian Health Service staff say they are trying to improve conditions. They point out recent improvements to their clinic, including a new ambulance bay. But in interviews on the reservation, residents were eager to share stories about substandard care.

Rhonda Sandland says she couldn't get help for her advanced frostbite until she threatened to kill herself because of the pain — several months after her first appointment. She says she was exposed to temperatures at more than 50 below, and her hands turned purple. She eventually couldn't dress herself, she says, and she visited the clinic over and over again, sometimes in tears.

"They still wouldn't help with the pain so I just told them that I had a plan,"
she said. "I was going to sleep in my car in the garage." She says the clinic
then decided to remove five of her fingers, but a visiting doctor from Bismarck,
N.D., intervened, giving her drugs instead. She says she eventually lost the tops
of her fingers and the top layer of skin.

Back in Montana, Ta'Shon's parents are doing what they can to bring awareness to
the issue. They have prepared a slideshow with pictures of her brief life; she is
seen dressed up in traditional regalia she wore for dance competitions with a
bright smile on her face. Family members approached Dorgan at a Senate field
hearing on American Indian health care after her death in 2006, hoping to get the
little girl's story out.

"She was a gift, so bright and comforting," says Ada White of her niece, whom she
calls her granddaughter according to Crow tradition. "I figure she was brought
here for a reason." Nearby, the clinic on the Crow reservation seems mostly
empty, aside from the crowded waiting room. The hospital is down several doctors,
a shortage that management attributes recruitment difficulties and the remote
location.

Diane Wetsit, a clinical coordinator, said she finds it difficult to think about
the congressional bailout for Wall Street. "I have a hard time with that when I
walk down the hallway and see what happens here," she says.

The same clinic failed to diagnose Victor Brave Thunder with congestive heart
failure, giving him Tylenol and cough syrup when he told a doctor he was
uncomfortable and had not slept for several days. He eventually went to a
hospital in Bismarck, which immediately admitted him. But he had permanent damage
to his heart, which he attributed to delays in treatment. Brave Thunder, 54, died
in April while waiting for a heart transplant.

"You can talk to anyone on the reservation and they all have a story," says
Tracey Castaway, whose sister, Marcella Buckley, said she was in $40,000 of debt
because of treatment for stomach cancer.

Buckley says she visited the clinic for four years with stomach pains and was
given a variety of diagnoses, including the possibility of a tapeworm and
stress-related stomachaches. She was eventually told she had Stage 4 cancer that
had spread throughout her body.

Ron His Horse is Thunder, chairman of the Standing Rock tribe, says his remote
reservation on the border between North Dakota and South Dakota can't attract or
maintain doctors who know what they are doing. Instead, he says, "We get old
doctors that no one else wants or new doctors who need to be trained." His Horse
is Thunder often travels to Washington to lobby for more money and attention, but
he acknowledges that improvements are tough to come by.

"We are not one congruent voting bloc in any one state or area," he said. "So we
don't have the political clout." ——— On another reservation 200 miles north of
Standing Rock, Ardel Baker, a member of North Dakota's Three Affiliated Tribes,
knows all too well the truth behind the joke about money running out.

Baker went to her local clinic with severe chest pains and was sent by ambulance
to a hospital more than an hour away. It wasn't until she got there that she
noticed she had a note attached to her, written on U.S. Department of Health and
Human Services letterhead.

"Understand that Priority 1 care cannot be paid for at this time due to funding
issues," the letter read. "A formal denial letter has been issued." She lived,
but she says she later received a bill for more than $5,000.

"That really epitomizes the conflict that we have," says Robert McSwain, deputy
director of the Indian Health Service. "We have to move the patient out, it's an
emergency. We need to get them care." It was too late for Harriet Archambault,
according to the chairman of the Senate Indian Affairs Committee, Democratic Sen.
Byron Dorgan of North Dakota, who has told her story more than once in the Senate.

Dorgan says Archambault died in 2007 after her medicine for hypertension ran out
and she couldn't get an appointment to refill it at the nearest clinic, 18 miles
away. She drove to the clinic five times and failed to get an appointment before
she died.

Dorgan's swath of the country is the hardest hit in terms of Indian health care.
Many reservations there are poor, isolated, devoid of economic development
opportunities and subject to long, harsh winters — making it harder for the
health service to recruit doctors to practice there.

While the agency overall has an 18 percent vacancy rate for doctors, that rate
jumps to 38 percent for the region that includes the Dakotas. That region also
has a 29 percent vacancy rate for dentists, and officials and patients report
there is almost no preventive dental care. Routine procedures such as root canals
are rarely seen here. If there's a problem with a tooth, it is simply pulled.

Dorgan has led efforts in Congress to bring attention to the issue. After many
years of talking to frustrated patients at home in North Dakota, he says he
believes the problems are systemic within the embattled agency: incompetent
staffers are transferred instead of fired; there are few staff to handle
complaints; and, in some cases, he says, there is a culture of intimidation
within field offices charged with overseeing individual clinics.

The senator has also probed waste at the agency.

A 2008 GAO report, along with a follow-up report this year, accused the Indian
Health Service of losing almost $20 million in equipment, including vehicles,
X-ray and ultrasound equipment and numerous laptops. The agency says some of the
items were later found.

Dorgan persuaded Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid, D-Nev., to consider an
American Indian health improvement bill last year, and the bill passed in the
Senate. It would have directed Congress to provide about $35 billion for health
programs over the next 10 years, including better access to health care services,
screening and mental health programs. A similar bill died in the House, though,
after it became entangled in an abortion dispute.

The growing political clout of some remote reservations may bring some attention
to health care woes. Last year's Democratic presidential primary played out in
part in the Dakotas and Montana, where both Obama and Democrat Hillary Rodham
Clinton became the first presidential candidates to aggressively campaign on
American Indian reservations there. Both politicians promised better health care.

Obama's budget for 2010 includes an increase of $454 million, or about 13
percent, over this year. Also, the stimulus bill he signed this year provided for
construction and improvements to clinics.

——— Back in Montana, Ta'Shon's parents are doing what they can to bring awareness
to the issue. They have prepared a slideshow with pictures of her brief life; she
is seen dressed up in traditional regalia she wore for dance competitions with a
bright smile on her face. Family members approached Dorgan at a Senate field
hearing on American Indian health care after her death in 2006, hoping to get the
little girl's story out.

"She was a gift, so bright and comforting," says Ada White of her niece, whom she
calls her granddaughter according to Crow tradition. "I figure she was brought
here for a reason." Nearby, the clinic on the Crow reservation seems mostly
empty, aside from the crowded waiting room. The hospital is down several doctors,
a shortage that management attributes recruitment difficulties and the remote
location.

Diane Wetsit, a clinical coordinator, said she finds it difficult to think about
the congressional bailout for Wall Street.

"I have a hard time with that when I walk down the hallway and see what happens
here," she says.

——— On the Net: Indian Health Service: http://www.ihs.gov/ U.S. Department of
Health and Human Services Department's office of minority health:
http://tinyurl.com/l9qzuq National Congress of American Indians' health care
issues: http://tinyurl.com/krs986 Senate Indian Affairs Committee:
http://indian.senate.gov GAO reports: http://tinyurl.com/ljq6fb,
http://tinyurl.com/n7kdpa

Monday, June 15, 2009

Letter to the Phoenix Editor

Dear Editor:

This is a response to the article by Will Chavez in the June 2009 issue of the Phoenix: Immersion children should not suffer from Politics.

With all due respect to all parties in this controversy.

It is my understanding that the Cherokee People are trying to reclaim their language with the immersion school. That claim should only be reserved to those who are federally recognized as Cherokee citizens. If non federally recognized folks wish to learn the language, let them learn it from other citizen Cherokees they know, not as a small child in our immersion school.

Children do not loose friends because they are or are not in a class room.

Money has nothing to do with it, however, spending money on non Citizens doesn't make good economic sense. It is our language and culture that is to be preserved. Let us preserve it, not non recognized Cherokee citizens.

Today, 3/4 of the U.S. population claims to be Cherokee! So where do we draw the line? Friends or anyone who claims to be Cherokee? It may not be the best distinction, however, federally recognized is at least a beginning.

Thank you Cara Cowan Watts for guarding our cultural heritage.

Charlotte Coats
Oklahoma