I've taken up a new hobby -- tightrope walking. With fresh strength in my legs I walk on a wire 40 feet up in the air. The activity's a lot of fun. Perhaps not as ensorcelling as a fast motorcycle but close. My teacher Philippe Petit says you don't need a net but Robin worries so I use one. I don't want her to fret.
My next goal is to add juggling, first with balls and later batons. When I'm colossally confident we'll set the batons on fire. Won't that be exciting? :)
Food is essential to life. It can also be one of our finest pleasures. Savoring a favorite dish satisfies our primal needs and also elevate our emotions to a high level.
I discovered this painfully during the first three months of my recent hospital stay. Doctors surgically implanted a feeding tube into my intestines that bypassed my stomach and eliminated the need to eat food. Both nutrition and medicine were delivered through the tube; nothing was taken orally. The diversion was necessary because a medical condition impaired my throat muscles which are used to swallow.
Eating and drinking were forbidden until I could pass a "swallow test." That involved being X-rayed while swallowing to see if food was going down the esophagus or being dangerously aspirated into my lungs. I failed the first swallow test in March and didn't pass it until a second one in May. On May 5th, to be exact. I remember that date as a Red Letter Day in my personal history. For three intolerable months I couldn't eat, I couldn't taste food and I wasn't allowed to drink anything including water. I watched breakfast trays being carried to fellow patients with intense envy. I fantasied about food and made lists of favorites I hoped to consume in the future.
Now that I'm back to eating I don't take food for granted. I explore stuff unknown to most Americans. The world is a big place and there are cuisines that depend upon ingredients we never eat. Or even know about. Here are two that I've tried recently and enjoy.
In Japan most people eat something called miso which is a paste of fermented soybeans. Miso is nutritious and flavorful. Most Japanese eat it every day. Miso comes in a variety of types (red, white, black, etc.) which have different taste. You may have seen "Miso Soup" on menus at Chinese restaurants; miso soup is made with miso but also other ingredients like seaweed.
You can find miso in plastic containers at Asian food markets and some American stores. It's easy to prepare: you simply drop it into any dish at the end of cooking. Don't add it before then because heat destroys miso's valuable probiotic benefit. I use miso frequently to deepen a dish's flavor. Plus you can mix it with hot water to make an easy hot drink.
Teff. Teff is an edible seed prepared like grain. Teff is a staple in Ethiopia where it not only supplies most people's nutrition (75% of protein) but also supports their economy and culture. Few Americans have ever encountered teff but efforts to introduce it here have begun.
Teff can be prepared several ways. My favorite is to make porridge with it as a breakfast dish. You can customize the the porridge numerous ways, such as adding maple syrup and milk or butter. Teff has a nice nutty flavor and is incredibly healthy. It provides more nutrients than anything else you're eating.
Teff isn't widely available here but can be ordered from Amazon. The cost is low, about $7 per pound.
Have you ever tried miso or teff? Get cracking!
Life for those with money -- and I mean REAL money -- differs from the paltry gruel eaten by normal people. A customary dividing line between rich and poor has moved recently: it now resides at $10 Million Dollars. Own that much and you're a deca-millionaire ("Deca") Own less and you're merely "comfortable" at best: i.e., a member of the hoi polloi.
One current attribute of wealth is its invisibility. Hiding wealth's many advantages is strategic. One yacht-broker says if ordinary people learn how immensely better-off Decas are compared to the rest of humanity "pitchforks will come out."
Let me offer you one example. There are five Caribbean islands that now offer full citizenship -- with accompanying perks -- if you buy property on their islands (Grenada, St. Lucia, Dominica, Antigua & Barbuda, St. Kitts & Nevis). There are no residency requirements, just pay money for real estate. And you can keep your existing U.S. citizenship.
Passports from these countries entitle you to reciprocal, visa-free entry into all nations in the European Union and the United Kingdom. That means you flash your Grenada passport at hidden (and sublimely luxurious) lounges for private jet passengers in America airports and, without a care or wait, board your flight to anywhere in Europe. You don't even need to leave from your ostensible new "home". Secret airport lounges, pampering Decas and publicly-shy celebrities, don't have signs or doors open to the general public. "Hey! There's Madonna!"
Oh, did I mention your new citizenship entitles you to avoid paying taxes? There are no capital gains taxes on the islands so millions in U.S. taxes can be sidestepped quite easily and legally if you plan carefully. Plainly, there are two sets of rules in the world and Decas live by other ones.
One can inveigh against the unfairness of this situation but it exists and isn't going to change until a revolution occurs.
While visiting the studio of a local artist I encountered an engaging work -- a drawing-on-paper portraying ocean turbulence. The artist depicts seascapes in most of her work and here she captures motion in a remarkable way. You'd swear the picture is exploding in tumult. The drawing's magnitude facilitates this perception: eight feet wide and four feet tall the image appears life-size.
I took possession of the work today. I'm imagining how this dynamic drawing will transform sedate space when I display it with other art.
I believe creative effort is the highest form of human achievement. For that reason -- and despite my visual impairments -- I've resumed collecting fine art. I choose to support living artists who usually don't receive deserved economic compensation.
Two talented young artists recently showed me work I admire. One (Ian Dawson) is a glass artist in Ohio who previously worked in metal. Ian has a bright idea to combine the dual materials in strikingly beautiful sculptures. Here are two works I just acquired from him.
Can art affect us? You betcha.
On this day back in 1968 rock-band Steppenwolf released a hit single that inspired generations of young adventurers (including me) to try motorcycling. Their song, of course, was "Born to Be Wild." It was used in "Easy Rider" the next year (1969).
Sing it with me:
Get your motor runnin'
Head out on the highway
Lookin' for adventure
And whatever comes our way
Yeah Darlin' go make it happen
Take the world in a love embrace
Fire all of your guns at once
And explode into space
I like smoke and lightning
Heavy metal thunder
Racin' with the wind
And the feelin' that I'm under
Yeah Darlin' go make it happen
Take the world in a love embrace
Fire all of your guns at once
And explode into space
Like a true nature's child
We were born, born to be wild
We can climb so high
I never wanna die
Born to be wild
Born to be wild
Hey everyone, I hope your Summer is starting well. Here's another update on my recovery. The news is all good.
1. My body is getting steadily stronger. I no longer need a walker. I used a cane for a few days but don't need that either. I now walk normally. Still bump into fire hydrants but that's due to the vision thing.
My legs can now also climb stairs so nobody is safe from a visit. :)
2. During the first two months of my hospital stay I had -- in addition to an autoimmune condition (myasthenia gravis) -- something called "ICU delirium." Extremely potent drugs used to sedate me led my brain to create an alternate reality, a world as real to me as this one is for you. Unfortunately that world was not pleasant: I interpreted ICU medical treatments (I had 9 tubes inserted) as TORTURE by an evil group trying to harm me. I reacted to that baleful threat by ripping IVs out (causing a blood clot in my arm) and fighting male attendants. Ultimately doctors put me in physical restraint and assigned a PCA to watch me 24/7. During one quasi-lucid moment I told Robin I'd forgive her if she let chthonic people kill me.
I mention this ugly episode today to happily report the delusions are gone. I perceive our shared reality the same as you and am back to being the piquant badass I was before. My cognitive ability was tested repeatedly in the hospital; one neurologist said she'd never had anyone score as high (a perfect 100) on their key diagnostic test. Thus, all future expressions coming from me are authentic and not the by-product of hallucinogenic drugs.
3. For the first three months of my hospital stay I had a feeding tube inserted into my belly. It was awful: all nutrition and medicine were delivered through it. (Myasthenia gravis affects swallowing so I couldn't accept anything orally.) I wasn't allowed to eat food during those three months which sucked enormously. You have no idea how important eating is to our emotional health. I watched meal trays get delivered to fellow patients with deep envy. For solace I made lists of ambrosia I wanted to eat in the future. That reminded me of when I was a teenager: I frequently starved myself to qualify for wrestling weight-limit classes. (Everyone wrestled at 10-20 lbs. under their normal weight.)
On May 5th I finally passed the "swallow test" during which you're X-ray-ed swallowing to make sure food goes down the right pipe. Myasthenia gravis was causing me to "aspirate" food into my lungs, a dangerous thing. Yesterday I had the feed-tube removed. Shockingly, during that process I saw the tube is over two feet long. Imagine a tube being pulled out of your belly that's two feet long. A rubber snake was inside me for five months. Geez...
4. Last note: Doctors tried two common medicines on me for myasthenia gravis but both had terrible side-effects. One accelerated my heart so fast it became life-threatening; another caused unstoppable secretions that choked me and prevented sleep. Doctors finally found a treatment that works (Solaris) which is vital because I need treatment for the rest of my life. That third treatment is delivered every two weeks by IV, which can be painful. (I once had five unsuccessful attempts to insert an IV in one hour.)
Good news: There is a new replacement drug for Solaris called Ultomiris. Ultomiris needs to be injected only once every eight weeks. I just qualified for it by taking six vaccines to prevent deadly side-effects.
Ultomiris is advertised on TV dozens of times every day. You see those ads even if you aren't paying attention. Similarly there are ads for other myasthenia gravis meds so, if you listen, you'll hear those words spoken too. Often we don't see/hear things unless we relate to them, like when you buy a Mazda Miata and suddenly see dozens of them on the road.
A big lesson I learned from the first half of this year is the intensity of pain and discomfort people can experience from serious illness. Sympathize with those poor folks -- whom you may join someday -- because their struggle is our struggle. Nobody is immune from disease and none of us should ignore the suffering of others. Appreciate your good health; don't take it for granted; and open your heart to the less fortunate.
Aloha.
