the compulsive newYork Mix11-061524

Hi. I’m Jan which I prefer to be pronounced the European way such as Yan. Soft J. I was born in Denmark, father Danish mother Ukrainian, and Jan is a common name in Scandinavia (Denmark, Sweden, Norway, Finland & Iceland), as well as Poland and the former Czechoslovakia, now Czech Republic and Slovakia, when in 1992 it peacefully evolved into two countries. It was called the Velvet Revolution that ended 41 years of Communist control of government and a tight satellite of USSR.
I have had a small dream of my own crumble yesterday when I got my diagnosis from my pulmonologist Dr. Marjorie Lee following one hour of breathing tests (spirometry measures speed of air blown out, and FeNO test measures the level of nitric oxide in your breath, signs of inflammation in your lungs). She told me:
“You have diminished capacity from last tests in 2023. I don’t know what happened, but you have asthma. And because of this condition I can NOT recommend that you undergo hyperbaric oxygen treatments. Period.”
Here I’ve worked for six months trying to interest my quite ill friend Bob to consider hyperbaric treatment as one of his last chances to stabilize his several disabilities. Six months with much research and reports to him explaining the science, the history and manufacturers of hyperbaric chambers of that treatment. Finally, ten days ago, he plunked down 3,770 dollars for a two-month rental of home based chamber which his health aid and I put together and followed instructions tested. I was guinea pig for 10 minute of 4 PSI level pressure.
But we realized, besides his problems of getting in and out of chamber, that we needed a health professional to monitor his tolerance of treatment. I still believe it is his best, if not only path forward in his deteriorating life at 86 with lifelong chronic fatigue syndrome. And I at age 91, I also saw that as a possible pathway to improve my own survival. The primary objective was to help him. Then me. But now my asthma denies my us. And my friend will have to do his first practice in a professional environment, a hyperbaric oxygen clinic.
I AM OUT AND I AM SAD – REGENERATION IS CLOSE TO IMMORTALITY. I WANT IT!
There is another pressing issue in my life. A woman technologist who worked for me for six months seven years ago appears interested in acting as agent for my autobiographical art products. We have reached the financial terms although not discussed a contract. I still would like her answers to what can she possibly add to her presentation of me as that be strong enough to draw subscribers or followers on some part of the Internet which its millions of personalities, artists, and experts. She states 1. “You are a Senior Man with artistic skills explaining your life!” What is 2 and 3?
I’m at my core suspicious of people’s motives. I think they can read ‘I NEED LOVE’ written on my forehead, plain as day to others, and knowing that ‘weakness’, more scientifically labeled neurosis, they can take advantage of it. “You are an interesting man!” That simple statement will send me over the moon with pleasure. I know I’m kind of hard on myself, but I feel I have the tendency that I just expressed. I am a child. I haven’t matured. I am 91 years old but with the psychical development of a 3 year old dependent-on-mother child.
She said she was going to FaceTime me back later which may or may not happen, partly because I dreamed this whole thing, and I live in a dream in my waking life. I want to appear more friendly, less suspicious, more accessible. So I took two tokes of cannabis or as I like to call it – marijuana. Yes, a female name. I am my mother’s son. I am a mamma’s boy in the full sense that Sigmund Freud defined it and which Greek philosophers titled Oedipus Complex. That’s son to mother unresolved relationship. Elektra Complex is the daughter father relationship complications.
God know what Dr. Lee knows about how lungs and my poor lungs function – supposedly having lost 40% functionality of my thousands of alveoli. With old age alveoli become baggy and less effective instead of remaining taught and effective as in child and adulthood. (Wikipedia: A pulmonary alveolus, an air sac or air space, is one of millions of hollow, distensible cup-shaped cavities in the lungs where pulmonary gas exchange takes place. Oxygen is exchanged for carbon dioxide at the blood-air barrier between the alveolar air and the pulmonary capillary.’)
I have lived all my life in cities – born in Copenhagen (Köbenhavn) 13 years, New York 1, Cambridge Mass 3, San Francisco 1, Berkeley California 2, New York 2, Copenhagen 2, Berlin 1, Paris 3, New York 70. Cities burned coal in my youth, oil in my adulthood and now gas for electricity and heating. Cars, people, apartments create pollution. I’ve smoked pipe, cigarettes, reefers, to add to my urban vices. So my lungs my lungs MY LUNGS are only 60% effective compared to my age group. But I can bike. I can jog. I can race-walk. I can stair-climb. And I can dance as I happily recovered the pleasure of doing last weekend in my 24 hours in Nyack on the Hudson River, up New York State.
It is now 9:38p and ‘she,’ whether dream, phantom or real-to-be agent, has not telephoned me. You be the predictor – how will this event end? I just swallowed a palm-full of pumpkin seeds, chewing them carefully, not to be swallowed to get their full benefit they need saliva enzymes, ‘lipase’ to break down fats and ‘amylase’ to break down starches. So when your mamma said ‘eat slowly honey,’ she knew from her mother, and her mother from hers, that what happens in the mouth is the very first essential step in the metabolic process of converting food to nutrients. An incredibly complex activity that billions of years of adaption has more or less perfected to make man the animal most able to survive on planet Earth (so far at least, given the climate change happening as I write – the oceans rising in temperature of 1 or 2 degrees create havoc on land, the air temperature rising with pollutions from fossil fuel burning.)
The woman I feared was not calling has just called. I have satisfactory answers to my questions regarding visibility programs for expanding the subscription lists for this Aging Man’s Explanations of his Life – JAN–50 YEARS of JOURNALS. I’ll be sending her money via PayPal momentarily. So now it means my life will be havoc with stuff she needs to achieve this and that submission to this and that platform or service or whatever the name of any new communication device is being developed as I write this. I was hoping not to be virtually plastering my representations of ‘Ol’ Man Jan’ on light posts.
Ok. I’m finished writing. I’ll live with whatever humanity and intelligence and humor is exhibited here ’n now.
Newsflash at 1pm: The US Supreme Court just rejected the federal government’s ban on ‘bump stock’ that makes a single bullet gun a machine gun! God, can you imagine how crazy how blind these judges are! We must stop this MAGA RIGHT WING INSANITY!

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