One Year Later January 3, 2008
No news to appear.
To Blog or not to Blog January 3, 2007
Once again into writing business! Dreaming publishing my memoirs has been hanging on for decades. In early days I had also written sci-fi, a play, humor and many articles.
Blogging hesitates me from personal stories since commercial information such selling a book is illegal. Blog corporations own the copyrights that the publisher’s writers material. Obviously a blogger could not advertise Macy’s, McDonald or your cousin’s doughnut shop, nor can you sell books you published earlier in a blog. Sadly, I’m too cheap to discover from a copyright lawyer just what I can blog and what copy from my blog into my bio.
Though I loved my medical practice and some of my patients claimed many of them to adored me (fibbers!), I am the worst possible business man and am convinced that I’ll never make money either from an autobiography, as I never earned from any other of my writing, although as I enjoy it. (One pamphlet on a statistical research on a phase of faith healing, paid me from a religious group - which resulted my donating to it’s church).
Reader’s Digest apparently accepted my story about how I as an army sergeant impacted on the Queen Mary significantly, but - they insisted a listing of the names of officers, locations and dates of incidents; this information was illegal during the WW2. It was not published.
On the other hand I succeeded with some publications. Most practicing docs read business magazines, the foremost the “Medical Economics”, but some readers more than to journals, others not. A ME series of these were provided me with awards (no cash) and has authorized me to print my articles or of their components to publish it my book (if I enter with ME’s credits).
Between 1965 and 1970 I had saved a mass material to juggle into a book. Unfortunately, most of it was not written, but entered into hard discs,- one of a series of my computers. A good friend, who was far more acquainted with me than computers. To find my book and he spent some time in most the likely disc and to test it - it was blank. To find the material might cost thousands of bucks to get a professional analyst (besides I was not anxious to his discovering some of my personal secrets!).
My memory of earlier words and events seem no longer available nor am I capable of starting again. My future of my autobiography is bleak.
Griping, once again January 1, 2007
The New Year has convinced my stimuli the kind and persistent readers to convince me to get my semi-sane residual brain bits to provide more chatter once again. In episodes of almost manic/depressive dabs resolving hundreds of challenges during day and night for several weeks, then giving up hope of succeeding solutions of my problems, then living like a toad, eating, sleeping and playing Mah Jongg without stirring out of the house.
Permanent damage of my brain as a result of my stroke is my misfortune; on top of this I have been a misanthrope most of my life and I may speak only briefly to two or three persons a week; this often interfering in my clear sentences in reading, in difficulty in learning new complex concepts, aggravated by my solitude due in part to my “prison” of my loss of driving privilege.
My most brilliant physician otherwise is convinced that an old person should not drive; he reminded vigorously of the driving gentleman who, apparently in rage against his world, killed eight or ten in the middle of a Los Angeles street market. Although I convinced that I had only about three minimal bumps against a car in my life time and that statistically more persons in the age of 15 to 27 had more accidents than 65 older.
He was stern and I reluctantly I agreed to not drive for three months.
It was hell for that being a single person. My condition prevented me from wandering for shopping sites further than a half or a mile, but generously friends drove me to appointments and shopping, providing small “tips” at times. At other times it was not convenient for them, or they forgot,or they came very late. The maid was at times not convenient. Calling a taxi for a prescription a forgotten again, felt inane.
Today I have my ancient car as my active friend again - and much less griping!
One’s Future? October 28, 2006
(Forgive me. Some of the my parts last blog of 10-20-’06 was insane - though the content may possibly is rational. The urge get my thoughts so break violently through my brain that words and sentences make no sense and I’m still not fully normal).
Lilke every kid I lied; he told my parents: “She broke it, not me!”.
Later I’d fibbed, like ever teener once in a while to my parents and when still later I’d come up with “white lie” - like just almost every person. On occasions, I’ve bragged (you’ve heard me to do so), I have exaggerated at times, stolen some else;s pencil, forgotten bits and, as an old man, sometimes twisted a few memories unintentionally.
On the other hand my family has rigid our own morals and ethics; my parents taught and my family taught our children and they’re sticking to that. Never was I a goody-goody; fought for competitors (except in games or money) to get to the top, strong-willed is mild, know me.
The most important to me of all, is morals. I have never cheated on a woman and have no done serious sins - to the best of my knowledge. Although I was trained in various Christian schools (from almost baptism at birth it seems), I have become an agnostic, not a atheist, but have the deepest respect of religions, whether the Bible, the Koran or others, and would not break my word.
This was an introduction to this following story which I can prove but I am convinced that it is true.
On October twentieth two thousand and six at 11:41 PM I died.
Forgive me to iterate. I’m old and my health is rotten: kidney, heart, lungs, legs and now worse with the stroke recently.
These two weeks have been absolutely hell with thousands chores, insomnia, pain.
Two horrible days were the worst. Almost no sleep despite two Ambien’s terribly tired and weak. My sweet aunt, drove me to seven facilities (docs, dentitists, pharmacies, just a few groceries) and a good friend went shopping with me one day to plans and decisions and two days of more before. Aunty is by far the worst dangerous driver ever met; 10 or 14 years ago I puyblished in a magazine a humor story about my mother’s fight to the death through the courts to keep her driving licence; she was a very bad driver - but aunty was worse!
Next day was far miserable. Four people had come to see here, two at the overlapped; and then a visit to an primary doc and got in time to my house. The scheduled RN came while I wasn’t home. Can’t how imagine how tired was that I at time.
Intermittent legs, face and especially fingers, cramped pulling a bush of fingertips in pain, my molars in repairs for two month phases in holes in gums and daily bleeding of tongue, because I mistakenly - still intentionally - eat constantly mostly acidic fruit, primarily pineapples, grapes, plums and apples, lemon juice daily.
Writing and phoning between thirteen and eighteen hours per hours day since I had my stroke (Slept not at all two nights).
Working normally out in the gym three weeks ago, I am so weak that I needed to help me get up from the chair, although had no motor neurological deficits.
On 10/19/’06 aunt helped. Did more work and even more tired, tired, tired and weak progressively and slept little. Tomorrow is far worse. Unable to head up neck or arm, had to force to get 27 chores that day.
The Everet mountain has reached the top of the ,- without oxygen. I could almost never get back into my bed and sleep. I remained awake from nine and got my Ambien that I had never taken a pill sleeper until the stroke, and forgot it. I waited till I could go to the fifteen feet away and back. At 11:31 still alert.I managed to pill and with all energy took the sleeper with great difficulty swallowing and got into the bed.
Not in short in breath, my chest muscles were too tired to use.
Full alert I cramped, ached in my body, my sore mouth.
Then I let stopping breathing. The pain stopped slowly hurting, the cramps, the mouth with surprise and soon I felt quite comfortable - in fact pleased and happy, comfy in my circumstances. Then I started to get a bit drowsy.
On 10-20-2006 at 11:41 AM I was dead.
But…
Completely alert, but within the next seconds, was getting moments drowsy and thought….. : “DAMN - MY FINISHED HASN’T MY JOB!”
Whether that episode lasted one minute or three and more…, I have no idea.
I forced a breath - and it worked; then it was a little effort - and soon the chest worked and my heart easier ran at my rate of 110 of beats as usual - still desperately aching again.
You may that I have imagined or dreamed - but I am absolutely convinced that my experience had it. Earlier I mentioned that I keep truth importantly: to the very best it was true - and that I am living now.