money and wealth
The human money game as played by those who acquire wealth and abundance is a mystery for many. With study and discipline it can be penetrated and realized. Most do not have the desire to make the sacrifice and hard work, however.
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The man who’s wife called him a robot
Elly watched Brad head for his upstairs office for the second time one Saturday. First after breakfast, now after lunch. “You’re a robot,” she called out, as she cleared the dishes from their lovely lunch of whole-grain pasta stewed with fresh-cut vegetables and a side of steamed brown rice. She worked hard to keep him healthy, and she deserved a little attention. Not today. Butt back in his chair, he refreshed the computer screen and continued entering data for the third medical report of the day. Pushing sixty, preparing for retirement, he thought of Mo dying alone in his beat-up trailer, or Natalie waiting for the next government so she…
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The Disability Industrial Complex
Finally, it was time for attorney Roman to do his cross-examination. “Your honor, I move that the witness Dr. Rosedale be excused from this hearing, and that he be barred from ever doing expert witness work again in the great state of California.” The judge could not hide his surprise. He lifted his elbows off the table and sat all the way back in his chair. “Really? On what basis do you make this motion, Mr. Roman?” Defense attorney Lamb rolled his eyes and focused on an empty corner in the room. His assistant Brandy dropped her pen and bent to retrieve it. Ronald Roman narrowed his eyes at the…
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The Disability Industrial Complex – a case of bad knees
Dr. Brad Rosedale quickly scanned the chart of a 48-year-old social worker who was claiming disability for an injury to her knees while on a work assignment. “Ms. Skruge come on in please,” he announced to the waiting room. A woman in a purple coat grasped two ski poles from against the wall, planted them in front of her, and hoisted herself out of the chair with a moan. Hyperventilating, she shuffled stiffly toward the man in the white coat, and they filed into an exam room. “Please have a seat,” he said, and positioned them in chairs on opposite sides of a small desk. It was a busy day,…
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Oman decides to challenge Brad (Numan) on Earth
The natives on the big blue planet, mostly Elders, would check in on their members who were foolhardy enough to go on a human mission. When they saw that Numan as Brad Rosedale, had succeeded in becoming a doctor, it was big news at The Gathering. Oman was especially intrigued and projected an energetic thought ball, “I’m going to be born on Earth and challenge Numan in his mission.” Everyone in the group was intensely amused, even the Elders paused and let sparks of laughter-energy ripple through their bodies. There was some discussion, and two Elders immediately offered to collaborate. They didn’t need to run Oman through the preparation protocol…
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The burden of the path to abundance
Brad thought he finally had everything just right. Nothing was missing; all the deep spiritual work was over, and now it was paying off. He had a happy marriage to the pretty and devoted Elly, who was a final answer to his old problem of finding a soulmate. They enjoyed a view across the Bay where they could see Oakland and the San Mateo bridge from the balcony of their penthouse condo on the peninsula. The clinic patients were under control, and he had started doing Independent Medical Examinations for industrial injury insurance companies. A typical work week was 60-65 hours, some of it at home where he could write…
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Opening to abundance
Brad picked up Elly at the San Francisco International Airport arrivals level, after a red-eye flight. Popping the trunk of his Toyota Corolla, he began loading her luggage, which was heavy with scrumptious cookies and stylish ladies apparel from Japan. “How were your meditations, hon?” he said, excited to share his results. He closed the trunk and gave her a quick hug and a kiss. “I didn’t do any,” she said. “There was too much going on with my family, and my parents needed help. They can’t keep things clean and organized like they did when they were younger.” They got in the car and he nodded at the traffic…
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Criticized by a kamikaze pilot
On his home turf, Otosan was the King. He seemed to enjoy bossing people and rebutting any opinion. At least once he had Elly in tears. Brad could not understand a word of the man’s fierce Japanese and would ask Elly to break it down. Then he tried to win the old man over. It was a mistake. Brad told Otosan, through Elly’s translation, about his childhood and how he had tried to help his family. He told about his father’s alcoholism, their poverty, and about how at the age of 16 he had left his family to go and work his way through school and become a successful doctor.…
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The spiritual marriage that failed
Shaken by the death threat at work, Brad’s spiritual experience from the trip to India faded. The longing to find his soulmate returned, and he met a series of ladies through Match.com. The final one was a flashy, intelligent Russian named Natasha, who wore movie-star makeup and had ruler-straight, pressed blonde hair. He should have known better. Natasha was a proxy for her friend, Irenka, who refused to meet a man on a regular date. The shy lady was convinced that Mr. Right was going to swoop out of heaven and pick her off of her feet. Natasha enjoyed the elegant dinner that Brad paid for, going on about Irenka…
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The nurse who tried to heal a doctor
Hannah was an impetuous surgical nurse with violet eyes and thick black hair, who could pass as a 35 year-old Elizabeth Taylor. Brad had met her the previous year when she assisted him on one of his surgeries. She was so good that he always requested her as his assistant. He would never know that she always requested to work with him, too. They had gotten along so well that he had shared his misfortunes about Dr. Black ,and even his bankruptcy. “How are things at the office these days, doc?” Hannah said. She loaded a suture and handed him the instrument so he could begin closing the skin after…
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Doctor with a bright future
The Trauma Unit on Friday and Saturday nights was an endless procession of drunks with fresh bullet wounds, people hauled off the freeway with faces smashed in from a steering wheel or windshield, and motorcycle casualties with multiple fractures. By 2 am the place would smell like booze, blood, and vomit. Doctors barking orders and people moaning in pain were a chorus against the rhythmic sigh of sliding doors opening, and gurney wheels squeaking. The clinical rotations ignited a fire inside of Brad. These people need help. Seizing the opportunity, the 3rd year medical student would scrub into surgery every chance he got. Helping the residents by retracting the skin…