The World According to Glissando

Category: Uncategorized

  • Love You to the Moon and Back

    A Real Life Story by Glenn Hansen

    Dedicated to Sweet Judith, wherever you are in God’s universe.

    CHAPTER 8

    It was the start of a new day. This time, I was visiting early in the afternoon. The pleasant welcoming spring weather was still here. I knew the possible realities of my visits, but, as always, I tried to be positive in my hope that today we would be able to converse. That possibility always was encouraging and happening much more often.

    Since Judy was first admitted to Riverview, under the guidance of her wonderful doctor and her whole new regime of prescribed medications; and supported by the warmth, humanity and proficiency of the various nurses and healthcare aides in the ward, Judy made a stunning rebound from the terrible condition she was in when first admitted.

    I thanked God and His universe for this transformation as did Judy. How long these reclaimed days of her life would last was anyone’s guess, but we were making the most of it. After parking, as I walked to the entrance, there he was, the piano player in the window.

    Seeing him play brought me surprising joy. It was because of the joy he was emanating as he played. Music is a wonderful thing, whether you’re a player or a listener. It is one of the most universal and civilized things human beings do regardless of culture or position in the world. Music is the bridge for all people. One of my t-shirts reads “Make Music, Not War.” If only it were that easy.

    As I continued my walk to Judy’s room, I thought about what the circumstance might be for the piano player. Why was he here in this facility? He has his own story just like everyone on the planet. In going through life, we tend to be so self-consumed in our own lives, we forget each and every one of us has a story. Some stories can be happy. Some can be sad. Some can reflect goodness. Some do not. Some can harbour the spectre of a life that’s been lived selfishly, with meanness, and hate. My story is a work in progress in which I hope to elevate myself to become a better person and maybe set an example. I want to be a positive contributor to our world, but I’ve got a way to go.

    And there I was, again, at the precipice of Judy’s door. What was the verdict today? I quietly entered the room and Judy was indeed up and ready to get in her wheelchair and go outdoors. She loved the outdoors and I loved taking her out. After our tender hugs (she was fragile now from the cancer), it wasn’t a simple matter of her jumping out of bed and into the wheelchair. It took the expertise of two hospital aides and an amazing contraption that looked like a very large exercise machine like you would find at a health club. After being tethered to the machine, she was hydraulically lifted from a sitting position on the bed to a standing position, and then swung around gently and placed down in the wheelchair. It was remarkable. Who knew?

    From there, she was connected to a portable oxygen tank that gave us up to an hour and a half of together time beyond the room. I was always careful to regularly check the tank when we were out as I never wanted to cut it too close time wise in terms of running out of oxygen. We were now ready to go and what a lovely day it was to go outside. At first we went to the park all the time, but later when the warmer weather was here to stay, they opened up a very large and well appointed outdoor private courtyard for the patients, their visitors and staff. It was adjacent to the large window-filled indoor common room I mentioned earlier and looked out onto the courtyard. I revved up the engines on the wheelchair with a “zoom zoom” and started with a ridiculously fun little burst of speed with Judy providing the cornering sound effects. We would laugh and laugh as we did this. We did this many times.

    Once on the main level off the elevator, we wasted no time getting to the main doors and going outside. From there it was a pleasant stroll into the park. We would chat off and on, or Judy would close her eyes to rest and feel the air. I always told her that it was quite okay to do this. We were here together, and that was the point. Nary a word had to be exchanged if she wasn’t up to it.

    Being outside like this was reminiscent of our talks outdoors in the late summer and early fall of last year at our apartment building. At this point in time, Judy was physically unable to talk for long periods of time. We still greatly enjoyed our chats nevertheless. It was special as always.

    This became our routine when the weather allowed. Otherwise, we would sit by the windows inside the common room and look at and be nurtured by nature. We enjoyed being together anywhere in and around Riverview.

    Riverview Healthcare Centre also offered a variety of enjoyable programs. On our outings, when the time was in sync with my visits, we would partake of some of these programs. This included live music performances in the large indoor common room, and art presentations which featured an artist literally creating a sophisticated illustration right before our eyes in the “Kitchen”, the aforementioned common room that was a multi-purpose area in her ward at the centre. The artist was amazing. He probably excelled at playing the old board/drawing game Pictionary.

    These were two of our favourite programs. Additionally, Judy liked to play bingo in the “Kitchen.” She didn’t need me present to play and it was a diversion for her from what I would call her long dreary days. Her increasing amount of rest and sleep provided some escape along with my and the visits of others.

    Sometimes, in the later afternoon, we would have “dinner” in the common room by the windows looking out onto the courtyard. For a break from the healthcare centre’s meals, I would order food for us from the excellent restaurant service located in the Centre. “Dinner” was usually sharing some tasty fries along with a raspberry/cranberry fruit juice. Judy might eat ten fries at most with ketchup, but she really enjoyed having them. We would chat and laugh as we enjoyed our “meal” and this special time together. When “dinner” coincided with a music show or other events, we would laughingly call it “a show and dinner date.”

    In the back of my mind though were always two thoughts: what is her oxygen level and the realization that she was critically ill and the prognosis was her life was coming to an end sooner than later. I wanted her to have the most enjoyable time possible.

  • Love You to the Moon and Back

    A Real Life Story by Glenn Hansen

    Dedicated to Sweet Judith, wherever you are in God’s universe.

    CHAPTER 7

    After the move to Riverview, which was a fair distance from where I lived, it was not possible to go and see Judy every day, although initially, I did for a few days. Shortly after Judy’s admission to her new facility, I met her doctor when he came to talk with Judy, who indicated that my presence was desirable. Like the staff in the ward, he was amazing. The kindness, the warmth and the supportive approach was truly wonderful, and his special expertise with patients in Judy’s situation was remarkable. Judy and I became comfortable with him immediately.

    The doctor had a comprehensive strategy to greatly enhance Judy’s health as much as possible. He wasn’t talking about curing her; he was talking about greatly improving her quality of life.

    I realized that Judy coming to Riverview was a true blessing. This place was designed for people with critical illnesses. This is not a knock against the hospital where she had spent over five months. That hospital was designed for traditional healthcare and they did it well, but this new facility was exactly where she needed to be. While delivering care with expertise in critical illness situations, it was a positive, loving atmosphere, and there were many potential things a patient could do if they so desired and were able to. I quickly met many genuine and selfless people working there, more than one usually encounters in the outside world. The work being done here at Riverview Healthcare Centre was unlike any other type of health care facility I had observed.   

    When Judy first arrived, she was in a very grim place health-wise. I have to admit that on a few occasions, I thought I might be witnessing her last breaths.

  • Love You to the Moon and Back

    A Real Life Story by Glenn Hansen

    Dedicated to Sweet Judith, wherever you are in God’s universe.

    CHAPTER 6

    On Friday morning, my friend and I went to the hospital to pack up Judy’s belongings. There were assorted clothing, gifts from various people including, of course, her family, and other odds and ends. Oh, and of course, we packed up the cribbage game. One other item that was of real importance to Judy was her Irish bodhran, a type of drum that could possibly predate Christianity in its original form, and certainly had evolved to some prominence by the nineteenth century. The bodrhan seems to have originated in southwest Ireland, although there are possible Scottish roots as well. You can play the drum with your hand or with a drumstick called the cipin or tipper. It’s a popular instrument in folk music.

    At one point we did a performance together at the apartment building where we lived, Judy on her bodrhan and me playing guitar and singing, before a live audience. It was a treasured moment for both of us, although, I had my doubts about ever doing another performance together. Time would tell.   

    We packed up her belongings with precision and expedience. It was not yet determined what time exactly the transfer to the new healthcare facility was going to happen. We collectively decided my friend and I would leave and Judy would call me when the transfer was going to take place and that we would meet her at Riverview. While we were packing up, it was quite evident that Judy’s health was rapidly degrading right before our eyes. For now, there was nothing more my friend and I could do except let Judy rest. We would see here next at the new facility. And with that, we left.

    It was, for me, an early morning. I liked to arise around “nine o’clockish,” 9:30 in Newfoundland. In case you’re wondering, the Newfoundland reference is a gently humourous reference to Newfoundland’s special time zone on the east coast of Canada which is a half hour out of sync with the rest of the Canadian time zones. What you should know about Newfoundland and Labrador is that they are Canadian geographical and cultural treasures. We went for coffee and a bite. And then we waited for the call.

    The call from Judy came at around 2:00 p.m. She was already at Riverview. There was no opportunity to call us before then. Carol and I were on the road in a flash to go over there. I dropped Carol off at the front door of Riverview and parked on the aforementioned side street and then briskly walked to the entrance to meet back up with Carol. From there we quickly located where Judy was and anxiously made our way up to her room. When we saw her, she was looking very depleted and grim. We were then kindly asked if we could leave the room for a few minutes so the staff could get her settled in her room and do an assessment of her condition first hand. We, of course, obliged. What I noticed about the staff was their warmth and graciousness in making their request for us to leave the room. It was almost apologetically and with compassion. They said it would not take too long.

    We went to the ward’s multi-functional common room and waited. When Judy was first admitted to the previous hospital, to my surprise, she listed me as a principal contact. While sitting in the common room, a front desk ward staff member approached me to confirm who I was as she had again listed me as one of the principal contacts, which I confirmed. This struck a nerve in me and a few tears welled up in my eyes. Who was I to be one of the principal contacts anyway? We only met at the end of this past summer. It demonstrated to me though how much our relationship had expanded, the trust we now had in one another. It also registered on a profound level now how serious and dire her health situation had become.   

    After a short while, we were able to go in and see Judy. She was very tired, and we talked briefly. Then we just let her fall asleep and watched over her with great, but still calm concern. After a short while, we departed and headed home. I was very grateful I had Carol with me that day to lend her invaluable support. It had been a tough day for me on many levels.

  • Love You to the Moon and Back

    A Real Life Story by Glenn Hansen

    Dedicated to Sweet Judith, wherever you are in God’s universe.

    CHAPTER 5

    In the five months of our daily hospital visitations, we did learn so much more about each other and our friendship continued to grow and flourish. There was so much I liked about Judy. Her intelligence, positive demeanor, strength of character, and her giving and caring nature, all in an increasingly difficult personal situation. She gave me encouragement, hope and strength in many aspects of my life. As I am one who struggles trying to find a way forward for humanity and determined to work toward a pure heart, she was golden for me. Often, after a visit at the hospital, I would find my spirit elevated.

    I, of course, reciprocated by caring deeply for her, providing for her needs in any way I could; and talk about our shared optimism, spiritualism and the love and hope it provided. I also tried to use humour to take the edge off of the ongoing situation. I loved the feisty fun way Judy would sometimes respond. That was my dear friend Judy.

    Fairly early on in my visits to the hospital, is when she first texted me “Love you to the moon and back,” in saying goodnight one evening. At first, I honestly did not know what to make of this. It was a nice sentiment for her to express to me, but what did this mean? I had never heard this before and didn’t realize it was a saying. While I do have some language prowess, I never encountered this phrase before.

    On my visit the next day, I asked her about this. She said it was a familiar saying and that it was probably her favourite expression to share with people she felt close to. What a wonderful thing to say to someone. I had never heard the expression or what its context is before. It made me feel good and reaffirmed that what I was doing in coming to see her every day was the right thing to do. Actually, it was more than just worthwhile; on a profound level we had a special connection and it made me more determined than ever to visit her daily. My heart and head agreed on this.  

    It was in the hospital that another game came back into my life, cribbage. I hadn’t played this in years but I picked up the game and it became a featured element in our visits for quite awhile until Judy couldn’t sit up for an extended period anymore. We would laugh and make jokes about each other as it related to the many games we played. It turns out I was a cheater even if I lost the game. It was all part of my illicit long term game strategy. We enjoyed many hours of playing. It was an escape for her from the otherwise increasingly dreary, weary days that she was spending alone in the hospital ward.

    After five plus months, her condition had seriously degraded to the point where survival became very uncertain. But then, God’s universe opened a door for her. It was on a Thursday when I was surprised to get a phone call from Judy. Texting was our main mode of remote communication. She was being transferred out of the regular hospital into a specialized healthcare facility, Riverview Healthcare Centre, tomorrow morning. She wanted to know if I could come in the morning to pack her up for the trip. I said, “of course.” The stretcher service was going to take her and her belongings to the new place. I decided to ask a young at heart dear older friend, Carol, for her assistance and she was happy to oblige. I remained calm and focused on the task at hand, but I wondered what was going to follow as a result of this new development. I know Judy did as well.   

  • Love You to the Moon and Back

    A Real Life Story by Glenn Hansen

    Dedicated to Sweet Judith, wherever you are in God’s universe.

    CHAPTER 4

    I first met Judy when she moved into my apartment building at the end of the previous summer. She was in a wheelchair and needed oxygen, but I had no idea, and I don’t think she did either, as to how unwell she already was. She was very determined to get well and believed she would. So did I.

    Judy was very well liked by everyone at the apartment building I lived in. Her caring essence, warm approachability and thoughtful intelligence made her very special. We were all drawn to her as we recognized she was a shining star in God’s universe.

     We clicked from the very beginning. It started with four of us playing Scrabble. She was pretty good. I hadn’t played Scrabble in years, but it was nice to play in such a friendly group. While Judy herself could not partake from the occasional bottle of wine we sometimes shared, it added, dare I say, to the sophistication of the event. Okay, probably not, but we had fun.

    Our friendship progressed very rapidly. It wasn’t a romantic relationship. We just connected on a very profound level. We were both creative types and for the first time in my adult life, with the exception of my son, someone really understood what I was about as an artist and encouraged me in my various artistic pursuits, especially the music, which was most important to me. She too was very talented artistically, especially when it came to her illustrations. I would watch her do an illustration and marvel how easily and gracefully it flowed from her hand. I was grateful I could return the encouragement.

    We started to go outside two and even three times a day to talk about the arts, and then got into world perspectives, spiritualism, relationships and how people should be much kinder, helpful and compassionate toward each other. We wished people would help each other to achieve their goals instead of embracing the virulent aspects of human behaviour. Is this even possible? I refuse to give up on this hope, while acknowledging it’s not likely. We need to seek this though so that humanity does not totally self destruct. Can we do it? That’s the massive challenge we face. This, of course, is where spiritual beliefs come into play. For both of us, love is a key spiritual factor.

    Our relationship flourished on this basis for about five weeks. Then, a health event intervened. In the middle of the night in early fall Judy called for an ambulance. Her back was causing her much discomfort and she was taken to a nearby hospital. I learned of this the next morning and immediately headed for the hospital to see what was happening.

    It turned out she had two cracked vertebrae in her back. Thinking this was the only issue, I told her I would come and visit her every day at the nearby hospital. We figured she would be there for no more than two weeks. As it turned out, other health issues started to surface and two weeks turned into a month, then two months and finally it was over five months. Judy was becoming increasingly ill as time went on. This is when we learned that her cancer was no longer in remission. It was much more serious than I ever realized.  

    I had still been seeing her every day, and given the turn of events, more determined than ever to be there, but I finally had to take an occasional break. After all this time, I was starting to run out of energy and had to recharge from time to time. I couldn’t let my battery totally run out because then I would be of no good to Judy or the other important people in my life. Taking the occasional break was hard to do because I was so committed, but I understood the big picture.

    During this time, at Judy’s request, I became her formal health advocate. I’m not at all an aggressive person, but, I have no problem doing what must be done either, and in this case it included talking honestly with her doctors in the hospital and getting answers about her treatments, care strategies and so on. For the past five months we had been working on getting her back home to her apartment first, then into an assisted living care facility, but neither of these scenarios was ultimately possible due to her worsening condition.

  • Love You to the Moon and Back

    A Real Life Story by Glenn Hansen

    Dedicated to Sweet Judith, wherever you are in God’s universe.

    CHAPTER 3

    As I sit behind the wheel in my car about ready to start it and zoom off, it occurs to me that some might not understand why someone with supposed fixed resources was giving money to a security person at the hospital for coffee. The answer is really simple. My heart sometimes tells me to do things like this, to make a meaningful gesture to someone to show I appreciate them. My head usually agrees with this concept. Sometimes you just have to do what you think is right. 

    I turn on the ignition, and the perky little engine in my ten plus year old small sedan quickly snaps to life. In many ways this car is the best car I have ever owned. It’s very roomy for a small car with a plush interior that is very comfortable for both me and my occasional passengers. It has numerous features like a sunroof and rudimentary sophisticated electronics that I never use. It is in great condition with low “clickage” relative to its age. I lucked out in getting this used vehicle. It was one of those right place, right time kind of things and the price was quite agreeable. Very soon, I will finally have it paid off.

    I have always been amused by the names of colours given to vehicles. My car is no exception. For the most part it looks black, but the colour is actually called Kona Bean brown. This is named for the rich, pleasant tasting Kona coffee that originates in Hawaii. Sure enough, in the absolute right sunlight conditions, you can see that it really is a very dark, slightly metallic brown. However, it usually looks black.

    It takes about a half hour of city driving to get to or from the healthcare centre and my home. Home, in my case, is a fairly roomy bachelor suite in a middle-aged, one storey apartment building. It’s roomy because I made the decision to purchase a twin bed as opposed to a queen sized bed when moving in. It was the right decision for a myriad of reasons.

    I am grateful to be where I live. The rent is so very reasonable, especially in this day and age, and includes a number of perks that you would usually have to pay for in a typical apartment building. The building is in a park like setting with tree cover much like the healthcare centre. You regularly see deer and birds. I even saw a fox on one occasion. The structure is well-maintained and comfortable and there’s a sense of community among the tenants.

    During the drive home I sometimes listen to music or ponder or both. I was glad to have made the trip to see my friend in the healthcare facility. It’s a trip I make four times a week. Occasionally I go a fifth time. It was disappointing to not be able to converse with Judy on this visit, but that’s okay. Just knowing that I made the effort and that she appreciates me coming to see her always leaves a good feeling. I was meaningfully contributing to her life and she to mine.

  • Love You to the Moon and Back

    A Real Life Story by Glenn Hansen

    Dedicated to Sweet Judith, wherever you are in God’s universe.

    CHAPTER 2

    As I stand at the doorway, from experience, I am anticipating one of two scenarios. My friend will either be sitting up looking pensively positive, or she will be seriously “out cold” sleeping. In part, the “out cold” is due to the medications she is receiving. Judy is still pretty and emanates a pretty spirit, in spite of her advancing cancer, at least to my eye. I love her as a close friend. Is it a romantic love? I’ll never know because the circumstance of our relationship never allowed for that notion. She is connected to oxygen twenty-four seven.   

    As I gingerly step through the doorway, I can see she is “out cold” sleeping. Every time this happens I have a fast moving major debate as to whether or not to wake her. On the one hand, I know she loves our visits as do I, and gives me heck for not waking her up. On the other hand, we both know how important her sleep is, especially at this stage of her illness. I also consider the purity of my motivations. Why? It’s just the way I am. As I get older and understand more, I increasingly strive to be pure of heart. Is this a good thing? I believe it is. Ultimately, I always choose to not wake her.

    I linger for a moment to look at her. Many different thoughts roll through my little brain like an old time news reel they used to show at the movies before my time. This was also where you would see the wonderful and brilliant Warner Bros. cartoons that are so familiar to many of us thanks to television and then streaming. I pull out a business card and on the back draw the “U with two dots” smiley face and sign my first name. I quietly place the card, message side up, on the adjustable table/tray next to the bed. I take one last look at her and then depart. I have mixed emotions about what has just transpired.

    I make my way back downstairs, usually on the elevator, but occasionally down the adjoining staircase just because. Sometimes, to test myself, I will use the stairs to climb up to her floor to ascertain my current state of health. I’m older now, so I am a little more wary of my conditioning. I am determined to not drop into too much of a sedentary lifestyle. It’s at times like this I appreciate still having a youthful mindset. More experienced, but still youthful. I wouldn’t want to have it any other way. I still have hopes and dreams.    

    On my way out I again pass by the security table at the entrance which is now the exit, lol. As I stated before, the security people are very pleasant, which is a must in a special, caring facility like the one I’m visiting. I did take a special shine to one of them who I often see given the frequency of my visits, an exceedingly welcoming man in his thirties. So much so, that I gave him money for a coffee one time which he very reluctantly accepted. The next time though, he gracefully refused my offer. It was then I realized he was not supposed to accept any kind of gratuity and that he only took the coffee money the first time around to not offend me by rejecting it. His heart was in a good place.

    As I somewhat briskly walked by the healthcare centre’s windows back to my car parked on the side street, I again saw the piano player in the window.

  • Love You to the Moon and Back

    A Real Life Story by Glenn Hansen

    Dedicated to Sweet Judith, wherever you are in God’s universe.

    CHAPTER 1

    “Love you to the moon and back!” It was Judy’s absolutely favourite saying. Her wonderful heart willingly shared it with everyone she was really close to, including me. I felt fortunate to be a close enough friend to be a recipient of this caring affection repeatedly and gladly reciprocated so many, many times.

    Death. It becomes us all in the end. But, this story is about life, the fight for it, and a celebration of sorts. On a particularly pleasant, sunny spring morning, with a faint fog lingering in the air, I was walking to Riverview Healthcare Centre again to visit my friend Judy. I parked for free on a side street with a two hour time limit. As I went to the centre often, constantly spending my limited resources on the paid parking lot right next to the centre was not a viable option. And, I didn’t have to be a marathoner to do the trek, which was actually good for me.

    This is a unique, very special healthcare facility that offers expert, tender loving care to those battling critical illnesses. My visits were bittersweet. I loved to visit my friend and the incredible people who were caring for her. They repeatedly reinforced my hope in humanity in the increasingly toxic world I was trying to peacefully co-exist in. I also knew that with every visit, it was potentially one visit closer to the last one.

    I’ve been around on this planet for awhile now. “I’ve seen good times, I’ve seen bad, guess I’ve seen it all,” to quote lyrics from a song I had written some years ago in my naive younger years. Not true. I now realize life constantly challenges you with unexpected occurrences and events you could never have imagined. They’re not all bad ones either. Quite to the contrary, good things can happen too. And good things can emerge from the bad ones.    

    From what I just stated, you may have discerned that I am a songwriter. It is one of my many endeavours over the years, a constant one from age eleven, when I first played in the junior high school band. In today’s streaming music world, it’s ridiculously hard to make money in music, period. Sure, I would like to have even some modest success, but, like any other person involved in music, it’s like sports; no matter how much money you make, or don’t make, you do it because you love to do it in spite of all the rigours and roadblocks. Yes, I have made a very small amount of money. Fortunately, I have other modest sources of income to keep me afloat.

    So anyway, on this particularly pleasant spring morning, as I walked to the entrance of the Riverview Healthcare Centre, I passed by a number of windows at the facility and in one of them I noticed an older gentleman playing a large Roland keyboard. Roland, by the way, makes great keyboards. He was happily playing away. I could see this from the joy in his round face and by the movement of his body as he played. I estimated his age to be around sixty-four (thank you, Beatles). He was fair and smooth in complexion, had very thinning light hair with a few strands combed over the top, and wore glasses with medium redwood coloured frames. From the movement of his body, I could also ascertain he was playing the digital keyboard on a piano setting. I smiled to myself as I walked past him.

    The large healthcare facility’s structure is a wonderful, welcoming building with smooth medium reddish brown bricking, soft beige grout and trim, and organic medium forest green structural features. There is green space everywhere. A large, beautiful treed park with winding walkways, benches and tables is perched in front. When the weather is nice, you can see numerous patients in wheelchairs accompanied by loved ones, family and friends, or hospital staff.

    I have never seen so many wheelchairs like I have at this place. The patients in them vary in the movement they can achieve from fairly flexible to extremely limited. Many have oxygen tanks. As you cannot, of course, smoke inside the hospital, smokers go to certain areas outside. It’s vital that the smokers and non-smokers, especially those with breathing difficulties and oxygen tanks, never get near each other. While you may think there should be no smoking anywhere, you have to appreciate that all of these people are at various stages of critical illness. Days can be very long for them, so for smokers, it’s a welcome diversion. Granted, it’s not a good diversion, but, they are in difficult situations, so I have empathy for them. They are usually life-long smokers. Please be assured though there are rules. You have to be a minimum distance away from the building and smokers and non-smokers must and do stay apart. Everyone cooperates.

    As you approach the main entrance, there is a circular driveway for picking up and dropping off. You often see ambulance and stretcher vehicles there. The pleasant security staff keeps things moving. Ambulances and stretcher vehicles have priority over private vehicles.

    I then walk in through two sets of very wide, automatic sliding doors. The foyer between them is roomy. The pay station for the aforementioned parking lot is here and there is seating for people. There is a hand sanitizing machine, the first of many you will encounter in the facility, and I mean many. When you do get through the second set of doors, there is an open, bright table area awaiting you with security staff. These are some of the most pleasant and capable security people you will ever encounter. Another sanitizing machine is there.

    Behind is a huge, bright and welcoming common room. I am going to the right to the west wing. The walk there is along a long, curved hallway that is warm looking and conducive to a positive atmosphere. Next thing I know, I’m at the large, special elevators which are designed to accommodate wheelchairs. No surprise there.

    From the elevators I go left and left again and I’m at my friend’s ward. The atmosphere is relaxed given the nature of the patients, but the expertise and warmth of the various personal exudes everywhere. If I should find myself in a critical illness situation, (hopefully not, of course), this is where I would want to be.

    And now, I’m at the wide doorway to my friend’s room.

  • Luck

    Random luck. Let’s face it, for the majority of people born in a free and wealthy nation, everything you have, everything, is the result of the random luck of being born there. Without this random luck, your lifestyle could be very different, and not in a good way. You did nothing to earn the opportunity this afforded you. You did not deserve it. Random luck.

    I grant you what you do with this opportunity plays a role in what you achieve, but, without the fortuitous initial opportunity, who knows where you would be. Yet, we often are not grateful for what we have and some want even more and more. Often, we complain about this and that. Some even get arrogant without empathy or compassion. No appreciation for this unfair initial advantage.

    People need to treat each other better, much better. Understanding this starts with the self-recognition of the incredible good fortune of being born where you were born. When you understand this, you can then truly care about and have empathy for others. You will realize most of the world does not have the unearned luck you had in being born where you were born, a free and wealthy nation.

    This includes billionaires and oligarchs, most of whom do not share a dime with those in need in the world we live in. Even these high echelon people, some of whom were randomly born into wealth, should be grateful for this random luck. Sometimes egos get in the way.

    We should be grateful, but all too often we are not.    

  • Debate

    On April 28, Canadians go to the polls for a national election (called a Federal election in Canada). Tonight I watched a two hour debate between the four main party leaders. The debate was strong, spirited and contentious, but, it was, like Canada, respectful and civilized. At the end, the four leaders and the moderator all got together amongst each other in what was the equivalent to the time honoured sports tradition of teams shaking hands after the game, again reflecting respect and even some camaraderie to reflect that while they have different views, they are all there to serve Canada and its people.