重庆涪陵体外碎石医院(0.6肾结石可以自己排出吗重庆) (今日更新中)

DENVER — Pavilion M is just one of the almost two dozen buildings at Denver Health’s medical campus. From the outside it’s really nondescript, but it really is one of a kind. Inside is the 208

MILWAUKEE, Wis. – When Dawn Nadboralski lost her father, a sharpshooter with the US Army, it broke her heart. “I’m a daddy’s girl,” she said. “I’m the only child, so when he passed, it hit me really hard.” To help herself heal, Nadboralski went into her dad’s garage and started using his tools – turning old wooden pallets into American flags. “It takes probably about an hour and a half and I paint them by hand,” she said. “I feel like in a way, it’s honoring my father.” And at the same time, it’s honoring the lives of men that fought for this country. Nadboralski sells the flags and donates that money to Forest Home Cemetery to buy headstones for Civil War soldiers who have unmarked graves. “We don’t leave anyone behind even if they’re gone,” said Thomas Ludka, a military veteran. Ludka and Maraget Berres work to find unmarked graves. The headstones are free but cost 5 to install – money they say is well worth it. “A man like him helped destroy slavery.” Ludka said while pointing out a gravesite of a Civil War soldier. “His life meant something. His service meant something. He should not be forgotten.” So far, Nadboralski has sold 33 flags – raising enough money to buy 13 headstones. “I feel like this is just a small thing I can do to give back,” she said. Nadboralski’s big goal is to raise enough money to buy every unmarked grave a headstone. “I do it all in my dad’s garage and I use his tools,” she said. “So, it’s kind of like he’s here helping me.”To find out more about the American flags, email Nadboralski at 1560

Police released new details late Tuesday afternoon about a dog owner who gunned down two people inside a Port St. Lucie home the day before.Investigators said Guy Alexander Hansman, 55, and his daughter, Harper Hansman, 11, were shot and killed by their neighbor, identified as Ronald Delserro, 82, at a home on Monday.According to police, the violence stemmed from a dispute over the gunman's dog, a bull mastiff named Roxy. Earlier on Monday, the animal had been declared dangerous in court."They all came home from court and then the suspect armed himself and went to the victim's house," St. Lucie County Sheriff Ken Mascara said at a news conference.Authorities said that after police officers and deputies arrived at the scene on Monday, they entered the home and exchanged gunfire with Delserro, who was armed with two handguns.An officer was shot in the arm and was treated at the hospital and later released.A SWAT Team later discovered Delserro dead inside the house, according to police. It's unclear how he died.In a truly tragic development, police said Harper Hansman was the person who called 911 before her death.According to the Port St. Lucie Police Department, the feud dated back to March 4, when Delserro's bull mastiff attacked and bit a woman who lived at the victims' home.That eventually led to a court hearing in which the animal was declared dangerous."I believe this to be an intentional act of violence against these neighbors," said Port St. Lucie Assistant Police Chief Richard DelToro on Monday. "It's tragic. You can't rationalize irrational behavior."On Tuesday, 24 hours after the violent and tragic attack, crime scene investigators continued processing the scene. Around 12 p.m., Port St. Lucie Animal Control arrived and officers appeared to take an animal away from the community.A contractor said he saw the gunman's wife just moments after the shots rang out."She said, 'I hope he didn’t do something stupid,'" Ray Layfield said. Port St Lucie Animal Control just pulled up as well. We have been told they are not currently commenting on the investigation or ongoing dispute about the dog. @WPTV @FOX29WFLX pic.twitter.com/qpw7deJebQ— Ryan Hughes (@HughesWPTV) July 7, 2020 Police said several officers have been placed on paid administrative leave while the investigation continues. This article was written by Ryan Hughes and Matt Papaycik for WPTV. 2422

CISCO, Utah - In the Eastern Utah desert, the air is dry, and the cold is biting. Winter is coming, and the matron of town needs to prepare. “It’s good to push yourself, I think. It’s really easy to stay at home and watch movies and I think I was trying to avoid that,” said Eileen Muza, who owns Cisco, Utah. No Netflix for this woman of the wild west. Cisco, Utah, is a ghost town alright. It's an hour north of Moab, which is where you'll find the closest grocery store. It popped up in the 1880s as a saloon and filling stations for the railroad companies. Without the trains, it wouldn’t be there. Muza is the town's owner and the caretaker. “Even though everything here is sort of harsh, she’s sort of weirdly soft,” said Soren Hope, an artist staying with Muza. About five years ago, Muza bought some land, covered in old, disintegrating buildings and a few broke down automobiles. Muza wouldn't say how much land she owns or how much she paid for it, but the few parcels she owns is less than an acre and the county says it's worth less than a new car. There is running electricity, but no running water. If you need to use the facilities, you'll be using a composting toilet outside. Muza was a city girl from Chicago before relocating to Cisco. “I actually camped, I had a little tent set up. Yeah, and I was really scared, I was like totally terrified,” said Muza. But five years of living in Cisco has changed Muza. “Basically a hardened criminal at this point," Muza said. "I’m not afraid to yell at people, tell them to leave.” But don’t let that hardened exterior fool you; Muza still has a goal. She wants Cisco to be a place where people can come from all over and explore their artistic side. “It’s a really good place to stay focused on your work, because there’s not that many distractions really,” said Muza. And that’s where Hope comes in. She’s from New York. She's the only other person living in Cisco right now. “Brooklyn, and I’m here on the artist residency,” said Hope. The artist residency is something Muza and her sisters started. They let artists come out and use the space for free. In fact two of the artists a year get a 0 stipend. There's no requirement for the artists to complete anything, just use the space to create what they want. Hope has been using her time to draw. She says she wants to imprint the desert onto her brain. And she also draws sketches of the chickens. “I was only scheduled for two weeks, and then I’m just gonna stay here an extra week, and who knows, maybe I’ll never go back home,” said Hope.That’s the kind of place Muza wants to build. She wants to do it for as long as she can, but, “I hope I’ll know when I need to quit. I hope I’ll understand, if it happens.” Muza says living out there can take a toll on you. Last winter, she fell off a ladder and no one was there to help. One day, she may have to give it all up. 2910

More than two years ago, students at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School turned their grief and anguish into activism after their school tragedy.Many of those students who were part of that movement are voting in their first presidential election."I was very proud to vote," said Buchwald.Buchwald and Hibshman are now Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School alumni. They were juniors in 2018 when a gunman opened fire in Building 12 at the school, killing 17 people."[The shooting] still brings moments of fear and sadness back," said Hibshman. After the Parkland school shooting in 2018, Zach Hibshman and Adam Buchwald started the group "Parents Promise to Kids" to push for stricter gun laws. "Before the shooting, this wouldn't be part of my everyday life. I wouldn’t be an activist. I'd be a normal kid doing my homework and studying for the ACT," Zach said more than two years ago.They pushed to bring about change in the wake of tragedy, starting the group "Parents Promise to Kids."The movement called on people to sign a contract pledging to vote for politicians who support stricter gun laws."[The group] exploded across the country, and we got so many signatures," said Buchwald.But something was missing at the time leading up to the midterm-elections nearly two years ago. They were too young to vote."That was one of the things Adam and I so desperately wanted to do," said Hibshman. "The fact that we couldn't share our thoughts through the form of a ballot, after we went through all that, was pretty frustrating."Hibshman and Buchwald are now sophomores at the University of Florida and eligible to vote.The memory of the 17 people killed at their former school is on their minds as they cast their ballots."Definitely going to think about gun control," said Hibshman."The topic of gun control is extremely important, but so is COVID," said Buchwald.Finally, they can make their voices heard on a ballot.Buchwald has now started a new movement with his brother, Josh, called "Promise to Humanity." They ask people to sign a contract, pledging to wear a mask, and practice social distancing during the pandemic. This article was written by Alex Hagan for WPTV. 2228

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