郑州郑州眼科医院哪家好?郑州晶体植入治疗近视,郑州漯河眼科专科医院,郑州全国十大近视手术医院,郑州郑州视献眼科医,郑州眼近视手术需要多少钱,郑州激光大概要多少钱,郑州眼近视做激光多少钱

KANSAS CITY, Kansas — A second company associated with Schlitterbahn has been named in a newly unsealed criminal indictment.Henry & Sons Construction is listed as a co-defendant in the murder case of 10 year old Caleb Schwab.The boy died on the Verruckt water slide in 2016.According to the indictment, Henry & Sons was the design and construction company for Verruckt.Reviews posted online by people who identify themselves as former employees raise safety concerns before the Schwab tragedy. On the job website Indeed.com, a person who identifies himself as a former welder for Henry & Sons submitted a February 2015 review for the company.The review claims management would ignore issues or "let them pass" like damaged work equipment.The welder also says managers wouldn't require a safety harness to work six feet off the ground and they "just wanted to get the job done no matter how risky it could be."Other review headlines include "Unsafe Working Environment", "Lack of Management Skills" and "Unorganized."At least one poster, however, gave the company five stars, calling it "an amazing place to work." The latest indictment states company owner Jeff Henry hired a man named John Hunsucker as a consultant for the operation and safety of Verruckt.But Hunsucker told investigators that while he could make suggestions, it was only Henry who made the decisions.The indictment further says Henry never asked Hunsucker to check if the water slide met industry safety standards, which the indictment claims in many ways it did not. 1587

KANSAS CITY, Mo. — Doctors and nurses are celebrating the recovery of a 23-year-old man who spent months in the hospital with a severe COVID-19 infection.In early April, Shakell Avery began feeling some of the COVID-19 symptoms. He went to the emergency room, and within 48 hours, he was on a ventilator fighting for his life due to the virus.After spending months in the hospital, he recovered, thanks to a convalescent plasma donor from New York and medical staff from Menorah Medical Center and Research Medical Center.It's been a celebration ever since his family heard the news their loved one was coming home."You definitely feel the love," Avery said. "It's like they were waiting for a celebrity to come to town."In late June, Shakell's doctors and nurses also celebrated his recovery."As hard as these days have been for some of us on the front line, it's worth it," said Dr. Marjorie Wongs with Menorah Medical Center said. "It makes it worth it."It's a different story from just a few months ago when Avery first contracted the virus.He shared how he felt right before he went to the hospital."I played sports, I played football, and I've never felt body aches like that," Avery said.Ultimately, it was the shortness of breath that worried him and his family."I mean just taking real deep breaths, and I still couldn't get it, and I thought, 'something's wrong,'" Avery said.He spent more than two months at Menorah Medical Center."He had life-threatening COVID-19," Wongs said. "He had severe pneumonia and required a ventilator. He had respiratory failure.""I remember before I went in and then when I woke up at the hospital," Avery said. "I don't really remember much at Menorah."Nurses and staff put up a tent for the family to say hello through the window and draw pictures because they couldn't physically be inside with him at the time.Avery's family said it was such a blessing to see the healthcare staff doing what they could to see their loved one, especially since Avery was in the hospital for a total of 79 days."Initially, you hear two weeks, three weeks," Shakell's mother, Wiletta Avery said. "When he was put on a ventilator, that was the hardest thing for me."Wiletta Avery then heard what no mother wants to hear."On April 11th, 4:30 in the morning, I'll never forget. They call and they're explaining to us that there's nothing they can do for him. He was maxed out on ventilation," Avery's mother said. "At that point they allowed me to go up and see him. And you know, they're not letting people into these hospitals, so when they say, 'You can come up,' you pretty much know what that means as if this will be my last time seeing him."While seeing him, she asked him to do just one thing."I just asked him, I need you to fight for me," she said. "I need you to fight."Wongs said there was a push to get convalescent plasma for Avery, but it wasn't an easy process."We contacted local blood banks; no one had any plasma available. We started looking for donors ourselves," Wongs said. "We even were contemplating flying a donor to another state, to where they could do the collection because we didn't even have collection capabilities in Kansas City until much later."Avery's family members also went to social media, pleading someone who recovered from COVID-19 to help save Shakell's life.They eventually found a donor."We ended up getting a donor from New York City. They were able to ship that plasma to us from the community blood center," Wongs said.They transfused those antibodies into Avery's body."It's experimental. This is the first patient that I had given convalescent plasma to. It's been reported out for other infections, but you know, this was our first patient," Wongs said.And it worked."To see he improved with it was just amazing for us," Wongs said. "I think it is definitely going to be one of the bridging therapies until we get to a vaccine or some sort of a cure. It is definitely one of the first things I go to now in patients that have severe, life-threatening COVID. I know we are using it much more than we were now."Menorah Medical Center and Research Medical Center worked together to make the transfusion happen."We are part of a national clinical trial," Wongs said. "I think we'll have some data that comes out later this summer as to the efficacy of convalescent plasma, but those of us on the ground that are using it, we think the data is going to be promising."Avery was only in his early 20s when he contracted the virus."It's definitely something I don't want anybody to go through," he said. "I just felt real depressed, robbed... like somebody just snatched you out your livelihood."While Avery recovered from the virus, it hasn't been a full overnight recovery."You don't just come home and everything is right back to normal. I had to learn how to walk again, I had to learn how to stand up straight on my own, with no support. I'm still having to learn how to properly get up steps," Avery said. "I used to be active, moving, and now it's just like, everything that you learn that's new, that's second nature to you, you have to relearn. So it's difficult. The fight really ain't over until it's 100 percent over."Avery has a message for young adults his age."When you decide to step outside, no mask, no sanitizer, no care in the world, think about whose father you're taking away from that kid. Think about whose mother you're taking away, whose grandparent, whose daughter, whose son," he said.He said he hopes more people take this virus seriously."Don't think you're invincible, I used to think that," Avery said. "Take this as serious as you would anything else. Take this as serious as life, cause it's that serious."Avery says financially, it's been hard too, as bills didn't stop while he was in the hospital for months and now continues to work on physical therapy.His family has set up a GoFundMe page to help with financial assistance.This story was originally published by Rae Daniel on KSHB in Kansas City. 6012

JOSHUA TREE, Calif. (AP) — Homicide detectives are investigating the death of a man whose burned body was found in a dry lake bed in Southern California.The San Bernardino County Sheriff's Department says a caller Friday reported discovering the man's body in Joshua Tree, which is about 135 miles (217 kilometers) east of Los Angeles. Detectives are working to identify the man and are seeking any witnesses.The sheriff's department announced the investigation Sunday morning. Homicide detectives took over the case "based on evidence at the scene," which was not detailed in a police statement.Authorities could not be reached for further comment. 657

Kimberly Kinell is used to having a routine. She’s up at 7:30 every morning, makes her coffee, and starts folding up her bed inside the New Haven, Connecticut hotel she’s now living in.It’s a routine she learned out of necessity while sleeping in a homeless shelter each night and spending her days on the streets.“We had to go outside and leave the building at 7:30 in the morning and not come back until 4,” said Kinell. “I had a tent on my back and two dogs.”Addiction kept her from a stable life. Kinell said the loss of her father and her husband hurled her into a battle for sobriety.“I was drinking,” she said. “Those days were dark, and it ended up putting me in a full-blown depression.”Her depression was so deep at times, she saw no future of happiness. “When you’re drinking or under the influence, everything seems dark and everything seems, my life just seemed unlivable,” she described.But there was a wake-up call, from an unexpected place. “The dogs made me do the right thing,” said Kinell. “They gave me a point to live, it was like getting up every day because I have to take care of them.”After watching the dogs struggle to survive without consistent food, she checked into a rehabilitation program.“I was there for 51 days, and when I got out, there was no place to go,” said Kinell.Terrified of going back to the life she knew, she got help from the Columbus House emergency shelter.“They just treated me like I wasn’t garbage, like I wasn’t throw away, brought me into a nice warm bed,” she said.But once COVID-19 hit, the shelter became just as threatening as the streets.“One room would hold like 10 people,” she said. “It was very, very touchy in the beginning because you’re just very scared.”Melinda Mallory, the director of emergency services for Columbus House, said the organization that provides shelter for countless homeless members of the community each night did everything they could to social distance and make hygiene top priority within the shelter.“We quickly realized despite all the changes we were making inside, we still needed to address the congregate living issue,” said Mallory.The solution: move everyone relying on the shelter into local hotels. With coordination from the city, Columbus House has been able to get more than 200 homeless people off the streets, out of shelters, and into hotel rooms during the pandemic.“They’re able to build upon their independent living skills while they’re here," said Mallory. "We’re teaching them community so they’re learning to be good tenants, to be good roommates."Now, a few months into the program, its success is becoming clear. It started as an effort to stop COVID-19, but it is now starting to look like a natural transition from homelessness to independence.“I hope that this hotel experience can go on a little longer, because it’s the first step of a person really understanding what it takes to really be out on their own,” said John Sanford, manager of emergency services at Columbus House.But, not everyone is on board for keeping this new model.“A lot of people do have the 'not in my neighborhood,' and a lot of landlords that don’t want to rent to our population, so affordable housing is always a challenge for the individuals we serve. But I always say, “if not there, then where?'” said Mallory.The struggle for affordable housing is too tough to overcome for more than half a million Americans who are homeless.“We have people who are CNAs, we have people that used to be professors, you just never know when life will happen and when you’ll need a little more assistance,” said Mallory.For Kinell, having a room she doesn’t need to leave every morning is helping her focus on what’s next instead of surviving the day.“That’s what it means to me,” said Kinell. “It means privacy, and it gives me hope in life that I am gonna get this job. I am gonna get this apartment, and I am optimistic as all can be.”A permanent home and a permanent job are the end goals Mallory and her team are trying to help all their clients reach in a time when both are tougher to find than ever before.“Once an individual has housing, all the other things will fall into place,” said Mallory.Kinell is seeing things begin to fall into place. It's a process that all started the day she checked in for a second chance.“I’m going on a year sober, I’m happy, no more tears,” she said. “I’m looking forward to moving ahead. I think it’s my time.”For more information on Columbus House, click HERE. 4495

Jared Kushner told a software developer who worked at his newspaper, the New York Observer, to delete several "critical" stories in 2012, according to Austin Smith, the developer who said he "complied."Smith now has regrets about his involvement.Kushner was seeking to erase Observer stories that were "critical of his commercial real estate colleagues," Smith said in a Hacker News message board post.Back then, Kushner was the publisher of the Observer. Now he is a senior adviser to President Donald Trump.Smith said he was inspired to speak out by a recent Hacker News discussion about unethical behavior, plus the president's usage of extreme "enemy of the people" rhetoric to attack journalists."I didn't know any better then, but I do now," Smith said in a series of tweets on Monday.He said he is sorry for deleting stories by Observer staff members.BuzzFeed highlighted the deletions on Monday. A "handful of articles" were affected. The White House press office did not respond to requests for comment.According to emails seen by BuzzFeed's Steven Perlberg, Kushner went around the paper's editors "to mandate the removal of a handful of articles from the website."BuzzFeed noted that "the secret removal of stories due to outside pressure is widely regarded as an unethical practice in journalism."The editor at the time, Elizabeth Spiers, said on Twitter that she found out about this action "a few months ago." Her reaction: "I don't have enough choice expletives describe my feelings about that."How could Kushner pull this off without the newsroom knowing?"When you publish some 50 odd stories a week, you don't notice two or three missing here and there weeks after fact," Spiers told CNNMoney."We also had a couple of site redesigns and site search was abysmal," she added. "So if you didn't immediately find something in search there were more likely (at the time) explanations."Spiers has been critical of Kushner and other Trump White House officials.Kushner resigned from the Observer when he joined the Trump administration in January 2017. He transferred the paper into a family trust. 2116