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Alive, well, thrilled, and grateful
Jim Broede
Posted: Saturday, January 10, 2015 6:51 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


Part dream. Part nightmare. Spent 8 days in an Italian hospital. The good news. I've lived to tell the tale. I'm alive. And well. Albeit, there are no guarantees. Life is full of surprises. From day to day. Looks like it's going to be a blessing. That I decided to check into the emergency room. At the municipal hospital. In the city of Carbonia. On the island of Sardinia,  nestled 120 miles off the Italian boot. In the crystal clear waters of the Mediterranean Sea.  Believe me. It's an idyllic place. The homeland, too, of Cristina, my beautiful and brilliant Italiana true love, also known as amore mio. Got to admit, however, that I had fearful moments. Of ever being heard from again. Imagined being held. In communicado. For the rest of my life. A prisoner. Never heard from again. Lost in a Kafkaesque Italian bureaucratic jungle. Made me wonder if I would have been better off in an American hospital. Now I have no regrets.  Long live the Italian medical system.  Despite a medieval bureaucracy.  That temporaily scared the hell out of me.  Until I learned  how to negotiate through the labyrinth. In unperturbed Italian style. At first, I was exasperated. Losing my cool. Which ain't good. Because I was in the hospital for a heart-related problem. Thank heavens, the medical staff, and especially the cardiologists,  know how to skirt the administrative logjams and get things done. Medically. And effectively. For the patient.  Yes, I was made to feel that my care and health came first and foremost.  Didn't matter that I was a foreigner. A non-citizen. With a language handicap. Didn't matter whether I could pay the bill. Until, of course, I was  on the mend and ready for release. And had to endure the bureaucracy.  Long enough for my stay to be extended for two days beyond medical necessity.  But I can live with that. Because the medical care in the Carbonia hospital is good. Really, downright wonderful. At least in the cardiac wing. Staffed with an abundance of talented and well-trained cardiologists. Most of them young and enthusiastic. Many of whom speak English. As did my cardiologist, Stefania Palmas. Anyway, I'm going to write more about Stefania. And all the amazing  people I met in the hospital. Including fellow patients. Stay tuned. To learn how I came out alive and well and thrilled and grateful from the Italian medical system. --Jim
w/e
Posted: Saturday, January 10, 2015 1:08 PM
Joined: 3/7/2012
Posts: 1751


Master Jim, welcome back. We missed you!

  

  I had the feeling that something was not kosher. I was planning to go to the mountain top to shout for you and send you some drum sounds and smoke signals.... A big shout of, "Whats up?"

  

  The body is like a boat, isn't it? It floats along in this earthly sea smoothly, beautifully, and joyfully until, out of the blue, a leak starts and the boat begins to drift. Sometimes things happen beyond our control.  We don't know the why of it. And we have to patiently wait to see what to do and what happens next.

  

I am soooo happy that you are alive and well!! Still able and willing to continue inspiring us. I know that you are in loving and caring hands. And resting in the comforting embrace of your amore.

 .

  Walks are good for the heart. But, at your age, you have to be a bit more careful.  No more long, long, long walks up and down the hills in the hot Italian sun!

  

I read your posts almost everyday. Your posts are a source of inspiration

and awe. You encourage each and everyone of us to find inside the heart and soul the courage to be. You transport me always in an inward and outward journey with a sense of hope. Your words are like refreshing water from a spring.

  

Be well, dear e-friend. Take care.


Jim Broede
Posted: Sunday, January 11, 2015 5:29 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


Seems to me, w/e, that age is mostly a state of mind. Too many of us are too frequently reminded that age is a chronological thing. Living in a society that dictates when one becomes aged. A senior citizen. Or elderly. For that reason, I don't like to count years, or birthday anniversaries.  Best to live one day at a time. Savoring life every day. By grasping the precious moments. Of just being alive and conscious and aware of the pulsebeat of life. Gleaning something significant.  Even in a hospital bed. Looking out the window. From my fourth floor room. I see the Mediterranean Sea, 20 miles away. The rolling green hills, too.  And a cluster of orange-tiled roofs.  I notice it all. Grateful to be alive. To be blessed. Doesn't matter whether I'm 79 or 47 or 32. Nice, of course, that I've lasted this long. Better than to have died relatively young. But in some ways, I'm still very young. I'm still a romantic idealist, a free-thinker, a political liberal, a lover, a dreamer, a writer. Maybe until the day I die. And even then, maybe I pass on to another dimension. To another realm.  Even beyond my imagination.  But if not, I've still lived. If only for a moment. Then let that be my eternity.  --Jim
Lonestray
Posted: Sunday, January 11, 2015 9:03 AM
Joined: 8/12/2013
Posts: 158


 

 

Jim, I'm with you on the age perspective. As with most things in my life, I don't give advice no accept advice, just live life in my own way. There is little point in my giving advice, as nothing about my life has been conventional. I started out as a social misfit and will remain so till I die. There have been many advantages in growing up without parents or relatives to guide or teach me about everyday life. Left to make my way in the world after my 'Ultimate Disposal' (official term used) from State custody, I refused to accept what I was told and learned from experience and observation. It seems to me people like to be placed in boxes and live within boundaries. One of the great advantages I've had in life is that I've been forced to use my brain and conclude 'you use it or lose it'. Learn not just within boundaries but from the broad spectrum of life.

Age is not just chronological. Each person ages at different rates, some forty year old bodies are in fact akin to sixty, often due to life style or a condition. I'm in my eighty-fourth year and am still pushing boundaries and learning what the body is capable of. Yesterday was there were gale force winds and it was tough running at four o'clock in the morning, but this morning was much better.

Whilst caring for my wife I was very fortunate to have learned so very much. Sadly few appear to learn from my experiences. Maybe it's because they prefer to travel down the same well trodden path as every body else. Still living in the moment.


w/e
Posted: Sunday, January 11, 2015 4:54 PM
Joined: 3/7/2012
Posts: 1751


The age that really matters

 
  Chronological age
   Biological age
 

   Psychological age

   Social age


The sum of its parts. 


.........

I am beginning to ponder about my fare-well journey on this planet as it travels around the sun amongst the galaxies.

  I would love to give honour to Federico Garcia Lorca's sense,

  sensibility, and his love for every-day-life. Life and Death unending.

He wrote a beautiful little poem that goes something like this:

 

   Farewell

 

If I die,

leave the balcony open. 

 

The little boy is eating oranges. 

 (From my balcony I can see him.) 

   

 The reaper is harvesting the wheat. 

 (From my balcony I can hear him.) 

  

 If I die, 

 leave the balcony open!
 


 


Agent 99
Posted: Sunday, January 11, 2015 8:54 PM
Joined: 6/7/2013
Posts: 2166


My dear one and only Why zEnheimer, 


 

I feel I must shake the poet-tree to make sure I understand what is written.  My Spanish is pretty basic.  Mix it up with a poem, though translated, and now, like Chaos, I am barking at the tree of knowledge.   Have you reached a fork or other obstacle in the existential vacuum?   There is a home between your enduring love and a primordial island.  Let me hold your hand for your well-fare as well as mine and our e-vill-age.  We won't lead you astray.   


w/e
Posted: Sunday, January 11, 2015 11:57 PM
Joined: 3/7/2012
Posts: 1751


Basha, I have not reached a fork and I have not encountered an obstacle in my existential vacuum.  I just need to do some 'dusting and cleaning'...

  I am trying to make sense of the continuum. Still searching for The Tree of Knowledge. 

  And, to be honest,  I feel sometimes a bit lost when I am drifting in my mind alone in the dark. 

  Where is my immortal beloved when I need him!?
 

......  

      

   Walking. Crawling. Slithering. 

     From here. To there. And over there. 

   

    Wandering. Searching. Longing. Loving. 

  A Lifetime journey. To shape the Course. 

  

   hmmm... and Death? 

     Without fuss. Without drama.

    I am beginning to think that Death has freed me.
 

    

 
 

    


Jim Broede
Posted: Friday, January 16, 2015 5:48 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


Physical activity. I need it. For the sake of my mind. That's why I work out daily. Gives me peace of mind. And that triggers positive thinking. I'll even put up with physical pain. When I know it's doing me good. In the long-term. Yes, I believe in the adage. No pain, no gain. Pain is a relative thing. It's bearable. When one knows it's not permanent. For me, pain has always gone away. Eventually. Physical pain. Mental pain. Of course, some day I may die painfully. But then the pain stops. Maybe forever. I wonder if that's the primary reason for people commiting suicide. To escape the pain of living. So far, I've never grown tired of living. Even with physical pain. Even with mental anguish. Maybe it's because things always seem to get better. If one gives the situation time. --Jim
w/e
Posted: Friday, January 16, 2015 4:32 PM
Joined: 3/7/2012
Posts: 1751


Peace of mind. Without escaping the pain of living.

The courage. The agony. The ecstasy.
To be.
To do.

And, certainly,
to whisper the sound of the word love.





Jim Broede
Posted: Friday, January 16, 2015 7:54 PM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


Yes, w/e, one pays a price for truly caring, for truly loving. About almost anything. But it is a price well worth paying. Because there are boundless rewards for having cared, for having loved. Even the loss of a loved one. To have loved is to have lived. The anguish, the sadness. Goes away. Love always remains. To be savored. Forever. And there is always the potential for new love. I am always enamored. With life itself. You are, too. No doubt about it. --Jim
Jim Broede
Posted: Saturday, January 17, 2015 2:59 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


Always, Patrick (Lonestray) you are refreshing. For my spirit. For my whole physical and mental being. Keep up the good thoughts. About life. And love. If anyone deserves to live to 84, you do. You know how to grasp and savor the moment. I knew that. From the first time that I read your posts. You are a wise and spirited man. --Jim
Jim Broede
Posted: Thursday, February 5, 2015 9:24 PM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


February is off to a good start. For me. January wasn't a very good month. Too many things happened. To set me off kilter. So I had to work. To get myself in proper balance again. And I have. Always do. That's the story of my life. Occasionally I go awry. But not for long. Anyway, I'm in full command again. Feels good. --Jim
Jim Broede
Posted: Friday, February 6, 2015 10:21 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


I am physical. More so than spirit. Though I yearn to be more spirit than physical. I am becoming. More and more spirit. That may be the mission of physical life. To slowly edge into the spiritual. One needs to be physical. For a time. In order to grasp the spiritual. The contrast. The difference. Between night and day. The physical and the spiritual. One cannot fully appreciate the one without the other. In my youth, I was almost totally physical. And then I began to discover the spirit. Only then did I start to feel genuinely alive. I have yet to bloom. --Jim