There’s this old man, that comes to the park, every single afternoon, at two, or was it three, maybe, four? That just, parks his butt on that, second bench, where he sat, and waited…
And, people are, passing through him, not seeing him there (not that we’d ever seen someone SAT down on him or anything like that!). But, nobody’s, noticing him, people all around him, are just, busying by.
An old man, waiting on ghosts, is what we, kids playing in the park nicknamed me, we’d, whispered amongst ourselves, and, we would, pick at him, but he didn’t seem bothered but us, and so, the fun stopped, and, we all, started, ignoring him, just like the world that’s, passing him by.
He was, an old man, waiting on ghosts, the ghosts of the loves he’d once let slip through his fingers, he had a wife, two kids who looked up to him like he’s the king of their worlds once, but, he was too busy at work, didn’t make the time for them.
what he looked like…on the benches in the park, waiting on ghosts…photo from online
They (the kids grew up), and, he’d, lost his, functionality after his kids no longer, needed him, they could now make the money to live off of, and, without the “title” of getting home the pay, his existence in his family became, obsolete!
And so, he’d come to sit on that park bench, like a ghost, every single afternoon, waiting on all those ghosts he’d, neglected, and, we’d passed by him several times when we horse played in the tag, and, one of the children whom we ran with, ran toward him and touched him, said, “you’re IT!”
That, was how he’d, turned into that ghost to all of us when we’d played in the park……….
Understanding of just HOW important it is, to be able to stay physically agile as we age, from the experiences of those around her, and now, she’s, taking heed, making sure she stays, as agile as she is allowed to, stay, physically, so she doesn’t have to, impose on her children as she enters into the elderly years, translated…
I’d heard hat my fifth uncle who’d been healthy and agile who’s eighty-five had, slipped in the bathrooms and bumped his head, had started exerting signs of early stages of dementia already; while my aunt is also in her seventies, going on eighty too, worried that the two of them may fall down together, my younger cousin immediately filed the papers to hire a foreign nurse’s aide, it’d made me feel thrilled.
My fifth uncle looks exactly like my mother, in the ten siblings, the two of them were the closest to each other, he’d often come to her to carry on in conversations, he’d poured his heart out, from his younger schooling careers, to falling in love, to getting married, to starting to work, not to my grandmother but to my, mom, “the eldest sister became a mother”, was the relation of my fifth uncle with my, mother. He’d often come over to hang, and took the two of us to play in the playgrounds, to the track fields to work off our excessive energies, clearly, he’s the king of us, and it’d made us feel, that he was my mother’s eldest son, that my older brother was the second-born.
After mom passed, my fifth uncle started growing old quickly, I saw him healthy awhile back when we’d gathered for the family meals, and now, the news of him tripping, falling down, leading to his diagnosis of dementia, and I’d recalled how he’d laughed and talked awhile ago, and now, he’s, stuck in his sickbed, and my heart ached for him.
continuing to exercise as we ought to to stay physically fit, as we grow older…
photo from online
It is something that’s terrible for an elderly person to trip and fall. A college classmate of mine, accidentally slipped on a piece of green onion, and broken his fibula, she lives alone, lost her husband already, and, the two daughters who were both married were thrilled by her fall, rushed back to stay with her to care for her, she’d felt really bad about it. As I’d gone to visit her, she’d reminded us all, to clear off the floors, to get rid of the spilled water, the residuals of the vegetables, that at our age, we can’t, afford to trip and slip and fall. Although now, she’d made a full recovery, her joints started aching when the weather changed, and she’d, not dared alerted her daughters, and can only, put up with the pains and aches by herself.
All of these had made me alert over the cleanliness of my floors, and it got me to the point of not being able to accept a speck of dust, no drop of water on it, keeping the bathroom dry, immediately mopping up the water on the kitchen floors, picking up the trash, in case, all of these will turn into the final straw that brings down the camel’s, back. My husband joked about how anal I’d become, but we’re both, entered into the elderly age, we can’t afford to trip and fall. Best be, prepared all that we possibly, can.
I’d made myself, chewed my foods thoroughly before swallowing, to avoid the choking hazards now, can’t just, gulf everything down like I used to, and I must admit, that it takes longer for me to swallow the foods down these days too, my teeth became, loosen somewhat as well, and I’d, taken the smaller bites, if I were to choke, nobody will carry the pains of that, I am trying to, become an elder who doesn’t, trouble anybody else.
so we won’t be like this…in need of someone else’s assistance to help us get up in the mornings…photo from online
There’s business to take care of, I’d gotten out early, and trekked very slowly, I’m no longer pressed by the performance like I once was from work, followed the traffic signs, looked both ways to make sure there was no cars coming or going on the streets I’m about to cross. Never would I, run to, catch a bus again, the next one will come in about, a little over ten minutes, no need to rush, why risk my health, for these, few extra, seconds of time.
My husband and I made that pact, to grow old together, healthy, I’d once experienced how trying it was, getting burned on both ends, caring for my two parents who were ill at the same, time, to live until the end, as healthy as I possibly can, to NOT drag my kids down, that is, the goal I am working toward right now; in other words, dying peacefully, is what my husband and I are, working towards for the end.
So, this is on how important to keep up with our own agility as we age, because, as we grow older, we’re bound to slow down considerably in our reaction time, our flexibility, and, if we don’t try and keep our bodies agile enough, then, when old age comes, we will, have hell to pay, not to mention, that we will, become burdens to our own young and none of us want that, do we? Of course not!
On not placing one’s elders in a nursing home, the considerations from the offspring, and what the offspring observed and realized about the interactions of his, elderly grandparents, translated…
I’d, once talked back to my grandmother, “Wouldn’t it be easier for all of us, if grandpa get placed in a nursing home?”
Certainly, under the logic, this may have been, the, best, option, but is it, really, so? My grandfather’s dementia had already progressed to him losing all his abilities, seeing how my grandmother would from time to time, get too annoyed, and started yelling at him, I’d felt, a bit, awful. And, this feeling wasn’t only for my grandfather, but also for my grandmother, as the primary caretaker; we’d worried, that she might not be able to handle the caretaking responsibilities on her own, and fall down, besides, the care that grandpa would get at the nursing home would be provided by trained professionals, but in the end, she’d still, selected to have my grandfather with her, to look, after him.
offering the needed social, emotional support for her elderly husband…
photo from online
“Do you want a hug?”, my dad would always joke with my grandfather after work, this was ordinary at home, and, my grandfather’s cussing my father out, mixed with my father’s, laughter, became the most frequently heard at home. Grandma had also considered hiring a foreign nurse’s aide too, but worried, that the caretaker wouldn’t do the job correctly, and still took care of my grandfather on her own.
“You know, if we sent grandpa into a nursing home, grandma would feel ill-at-ease.” Dad told me. Until today, as I’d accompanied them to the hospital, seeing how my grandfather looked for my grandmother everywhere, then, I’d realized, that their relationship wasn’t just, one-way, that they’d needed one another’s company. Or maybe, this sort of a companionship, is what fitted the two of them, the, best. And I’d finally come to understand, that as an offspring, in facing the trials of caretaking, we’d needed more empathy, and not that much, decisiveness.
And so, this, is how the Asian families do it, because we can’t bear the thought of our elderly loved ones, get placed in a nursing home, and looked after by strangers, but sometimes, this would be, the best options, especially in these dual-income families, when the younger generations had to work their nine-to-fives, and the sole caretaker became the spouse of the elderly who is in capable of caring for her/himself, but, in this particular case, the elderly woman is, more than capable, of providing the needed care for her husband, and they’re, companions for life!
Dealing with the minor aches and pains, the sores, that discomforts of our bodies that comes with, growing, older, to become aware when the negative feelings surfaced up, and to, divert ourselves from them, as there’s NO way, to DEFY the aging process…translated…
After seventy, the bodily organs started aging, speedily, the progressive conditions came for, me too, I’d lost, the stamina that I had from before, and each step I take, becomes harder than the, previous. At first, I couldn’t, accept this, law of, nature, got depressed, and became, completely, stressed out in body and psyche too. Once at a check up, my physician told me, in a serious tone, “nobody escapes old age, so long as you take your medications as prescribed, exercise more, get enough nutrients into your body, the most being, relax your body and mind, if the conditions don’t worsen, then, it’s, an, improvement.”
I’d taken my physicians words, and so, “working out” became my very first important assignment of the day. Gone to do tai-chi, to start off my day, stretched my muscles, bones, and tendons out, with the chi flowing in my body smoothly. In the evenings, the two of us would go hand in hand, out to the parks to stroll, to see the flower, the sights, with the changes of the seasons, everything isn’t the same, but just as beautiful, and, I feel, lifted, and found relaxation, forgotten my, worries.
the aches and pains that came to the body more and more often than before…diagram from online
And yet, every time the symptoms came up, it’d caused me upset immediately, like there was, the shadows of those clouds, overpowering, me, and I can’t, get my spirits up again, felt that there’s nothing worthwhile in life, and I’d become, depressed all day. I knew I should pull myself out of feeling this way, but I just, couldn’t, thankful, for my loving families to support me, to help me reduce the stresses of my life. My girlfriends and sisters would remind me often to get into the habits of positive thinking, and that stabling my inside is the key, with these ideas, settling my mind down, I would find nothing to, trouble me anymore. But easier said than, done, I just, couldn’t, persist in this positive attitude, thinking means all the time, and fell back into, the vicious cycle again, and again, and again.
And, after a year’s gone like this, the brand new year brought the brand new ideal to me, other than my goals of: working out regularly, having the positive thinking, to boost my mental and physical health, and carried that belief of “to live is to move around, to live healthier”, worked out like I should, increasing my stamina; and I’d had to, be more gentle and open, and forgiving to illnesses, to get along with them in peace, to use that heart of gratitude, to resolve the negative attitudes.
And so, it’s easy, to let the malfunctioning of our bodies get to us, we get into a bad mood, because we are not feeling well, but that’s a part of life, and NONE of us can defeat the effects of aging, and so, we must, learn to, change our attitudes, whenever the negative feelings surfaces, or we will, get trapped by the negative emotions, and we would, get STUCK, and become, depressed, and that’s, NO good.
The desperation of this elderly in the writer’s community, in need of someone to listen to him talk, but, everybody avoided him, because the neighbors had heard him again, and again, and, everybody is tired of hearing what he had to say, and he’d, died of cancer, all alone, without anybody, such a sad life that’s, lived by, this, elderly, man…translated…
As I’d Moved Back, I’d Become, Too Fatigued on the Subject of Him Then, Because of How His Tales were Too Long-Winded, and, Worried Even More, that My Careless Words May, Lead Him to State What He’d Already Said, in Another, Way, Again……….
As I’d Moved in, I’d Felt He Was, a Avid, Conversationalist
In a black shirt, black slacks, black shoes, when it was cold, in a black cotton filled coat, colder, with that black yarn hat on his head, even colder still, a black scarf around his neck, the all black way of dress, was his, own. But what’s even more, unique was, the myna that stood on his shoulders, the man in black, with the bird of black, became a sight, unique to our, community, we’d called him, “uncle Black-Shirt”.
Uncle Black-Shirt’s myna was the species with the white tail feathers caught from the wild, although the bird’s been, domesticated, but not completely, and so, there were the echoes of the man’s voice, calling out to his pet myna, Flower, Flower! The kids in the community would get curious, and, helped Uncle Black Shirt chase after his black myna for him. And, the times he’d called out to his pet myna, increased with the population growth of the wild mynas, and, the voice which he’d called to his pet became, more and more, pressing, and I’d, wondered, if he’d taken out one same myna to walk the grounds every single, time. On the streetlamps, the trees by the sidewalks, the rain roofs of the balconies, there were all the yellow-beaked, black-feathered, mynas, and I couldn’t tell which is which, but, the one that always, flew to stand on his shoulders, was, “Flower”.
illustration from UDN.com
As I’d moved in, I’d felt, that Uncle Black Shirt was very passionate and a good, conversationalist, and kind to the children, and as he’d started talking, he couldn’t, stop his chatty self. And the contents of what he’d talked about are mostly about the education of the younger generations, and the family life, then to sanitation, cleanliness, he’d stressed, that in his military career, he was placed in charge of sanitation.
Actually, this wasn’t, a conversation, because it’s always him who talked, I had no place to chime in. And, after awhile, I’d felt, fatigued, hearing what he’d told me, because of how long-winding his speeches were, and worried, that my interjecting into the conversations, will cause him to retell what he’d, already, told to me before, to make this, “lecturing” even harder to, come to a, halt. But I don’t dislike it, I treat this as listening to an elderly person, and it’d felt, good inside.
And yet, as he’d, poured everything he could talk about out onto me, a new resident, then, he’d, turned, completely aloof, like he’d never even, met me before. His face that’s, crawling with the wrinkles, with his attire, completely black, from head to toe, looked even more, saturated in gloom, and made him harder for me to get, closer to.
One Day, I Woke, to the Sounds of His, Smacking His Legs, Again
And slowly, I’d found out some things about him, from the residents who’d lived here longer, and understood why most of the neighbors, rarely, interacted, with him. What was conflicting was, that from before, he’d loved, telling about raising children, and families, and yet, I’d never even seen him with any family members. Other than the myna, he’d also kept a small breed dog, and two large ones, he was always with his, pets, when we see him, we would see the myna, the smaller the bigger breed of dogs, one of these, three.
At this time, I’d started, complaining about him, because he always allowed his dogs to pee at the turn into the door of our, building, I live on the first floor, and whenever there’s the wind, the scent of the ammonia of the urine would get in, and sometimes, the smell would become too strong. On the rainy days when he couldn’t walk his dogs the mailbox became, the spot where he’d taken his dogs to, urinate, and, the residents would enter the building, cuss, and as they exit, they’d, cussed again. From time to time, Aunty Black Shirt would come out, to scrub the pavements.
Later, Uncle Black Shirt started exercising at around 5:30 to six in the early mornings, and I’d heard him, smacking his legs at the public bench outside my window. Maybe, it was his routines, trainings in the armed services, everything was, standardized, the location of where he’d exercised, the time, the strengths to which he was, smacking his legs, day after day, after day, and I really don’t want to wake up at this time every single day, I’m a night owl, I should be able to sleep for two more, extra, hours. And when the weather isn’t right, he’d not, headed out, and my biological clock still, wakes me up at this time, I was, in a, complete, meltdown then, when I saw Uncle Black Shirt, I’d, dodged him as I saw him, farther, away from me, and if he was right at the entrance, I’d rather, circled out a few times, waited until he was away, then, heading into my own, home.
One day, I woke in his smacking his legs, again, and, started, pacing in my bedroom, annoyed. Suddenly, I’d heard him, murmured to himself, “I’m old, ill, I don’t have, too long………”, like he knew, I was, listening in on his, “confessions” or something. And I’d, pitied him, that he was, all alone, with no one wanting to be, near him.
Then, for a very long time, I’d, not heard him, smacking his legs anymore, and, my sleep returned back to, normal too, and yet, I’d, gotten the news of his death, from his, cancer. Not long ago, his apartment was, sold, the new resident took a few months to remodel the place, it’d looked, brand new and pretty, with no sign, no traces of its, former, resident there.
In the courtyard, there’s still, a flock of black feathered, yellow-beaked, myna, that hung around the streetlamps, the trees on the sidewalks, the rain roofs of the balconies, getting noisy. And sometimes I’d, wondered, would one of them be “Flower”, which belonged to Uncle Black Shirts?
And so, this, is how lonely this elderly man is, he only had a myna as his only companion, and, he needed someone to listen to him talk, and yet, he’d told those tales, over, over, and over again, to everybody who will hear him out, and that made him isolated, because the neighbors are all tired of hearing him tell the stories repeatedly, and, as the writer moved in, this elderly person found a new audience, and started, clinging on the writer, and the writer eventually felt suffocated by him, and dodged him too, and, the elderly died lonely, and alone…
The common need of longing, to revisit the “homeland” before we pass away that’s universal to everybody…translated…
Some Told, that His Migrations
Had Crossed Path with the Window Frames of His Journeying
That They Were Related to a Lake in the Rockies
That Sort of Serenity that Was More of a Defiance
Thinking, that Drawing Across a Fogged-Up Window
He Will be Home in an, Instant
He Could No Longer Hear the Vibrations of the Window as
That Train Sped Through His Office Window on the Island
Even if He’d Closed the Scenes from Sight of the Entire Huaibei
Following that Track, Stuffing the Thousands of Miles of
Tracks He’d Walked Out of from Huaiyang
Back to All of His Own Adolescence, or Childhood, Years
How Will the Dark-Haired Come to Understand
That the Worries of a Hundred Years from Before, is What Made the Current Generation
The Nostalgia that’s Made the Hairs Turned White
It Isn’t the Pecs
That You Can, Pull the Zippers Up All the Way
And, Nothing, Showed
Nobody Can Understand that Scent of Desolation, of Sorrows from Not Writing the Poetry Which is
More Fitting to Build up a Memorial
Deeper than the Abyss, Stood on This Side of the Strait
In Equal Distance with the Waves that Passes In-Between
Who Cares if Glory is There, Looking Down on the Royalties,
Trying to Fight Off Time, Like the Volume of Poetry
Printed by the Tracks and Hoofs of the Horses of Time
like this…image from online
If the Wings of the Autumn Leaves are Spreading, the
Pool in the Backyard, with the Filled-Up Taken Away
And the Thousands of Letters Written Suddenly Appeared Before the Light, Twinkling in the, Dying Sunlight
Like the Salmons Swimming Upstream
We Can’t Not Believe
As the Printers Stapled the Years into the White Sheets
The Tens of Thousands of Paths We’d Walked
Became Too Crystal Clear, like the Reflections from the Raging Waters
The Aging Poet Sat Back Down on the Couch, Attempted to
Get the Buzzing of Insects Away from His Ears
But Sees Sixty Years’ Worth of the World’s Goings on
All Fallen Down, to the Bottom of His, Single, Teardrop
At This Very Moment, He Stood Back,
Into the Memoir He Was Just Flipping Through, Looking
Into the Distance, that Rose, Out of His, Childhood Home
So, this is on, that final trip home that we may all want to make before we die, because, this would be, the final chance we will, EVER have, to see where we were raised, to reminisce over all those years of, youth, of childhood we’d, ever had from before, before we pass away, but, not all of us, are guaranteed to have that, especially for the older generations, who’d come here after the Nationals had, retreated…
A sort of a review of all the years you’d, already, had, call it, a walkthrough if you will…translated…
You’d, Torn Off a Passage of Time from Your Lashes
Started Learning to Hold it in to Try & Understand the Words of the Lips
The Passage of Life After Fifty, Filled with the Wind & the Rain
With Life, Burning on, Life
Opening up the Ears Wide
like flipping through the pages of that, book…photo from online
Using the Ear Piercings as the Windows to Transmit the, Messages
The Days Echoed Between the Fingertips But
Can’t be, Touched
You’d Kindly, Defended the Fears of the Years
Yet, Your Sense of Hearing Kept, Swinging at You
Every Hard-Fallen Sound Was Sorrowful
Time and Time Again, it’s, Torn at Your Left & Right Ears
The Fifty Years’ Worth as a Housewife
Like that Light
Slowly, Dying Out
You Lifted Your Head & Stated Light
Even If It’d Happened, there’s No Proofs
The Shadows Still, Lingered
And so, this, is a sort of a reviewing over your lives, at midlife, you’re, half way done with your lives, and, you look back, to see what you had done that’s, worth something…
When you’d become elderly, and everybody you knew from your younger years had, already, gone, you feel that loneliness coming on strong, and you’re, all alone by yourself, without people your age you can, share your experiences, talk about those, good ol’ days, with, translated…
“I shall not change the batteries, again”, the agile, and very aware elderly woman in her nineties told me, as she’d come back to the hospital to get the batteries of her pacemaker checked told me. “I’d lived, long enough!”, her eyes were, steady, “of our entire class, there’s only me, and another that’s still, living now.”
Before I could get a word in, she’d turned her gaze toward the distance, like she wasn’t, speaking to me anymore, but immersed in her own, world, “just allow the battery of my pacemaker to die on its own then, when the battery stopped work, I shall, just, go.”, her eyes were glowing, as she’d, imagined the day.
“But, if the battery run out, and, only the left side dies, not the right, or as the brain dies, the limbs are still, alive, it would be tragic, to be in that, vegetative, state!”, I’d attempted to, deter her from the idea. “What’s scarier is that your body’s returned, and can’t move, but your brains are still, quite, functional”.
She’d, flinched a little.
“Nobody knows what plan the heavens have for us.”
She’s now, in, deep thought.
“Besides, you’re, still agile and healthy, walking with your back straight, you are still quite young, biologically, it seems………”, I’d looked at her up and down, “people will mistake you for seventy-something.”
She’d smiled, courteously.
“When you ride the bus, there would be those who let up their seats to you?”
She’d nodded.
“I’m sorry, your time isn’t up yet, and I plan to, make money off of your until you’re, a hundred twenty years old, you still have thirty years of paying for my treatment, you can’t take that, away from me now!”
“Hahaha! Fine, just as well then, I’ll, let you make money off of me”, the patient followed my lead, ended the discussion, and maybe she’d, changed her mind, or maybe, she hadn’t.
And maybe, it’s how people she knew who are her age are, dying around her, making her feel this way.
This reminded me of, a patient from many years ago, in his nineties, still agile, and lucid of mind, he was an optimistic man, one day he’d come to see me for treatment, and it was like he’s, a totally, different, person then, slouched in his own corner, refusing to answer any of my, inquiries. I’d turned and asked his daughter what had happened in his life of late, “Last month, my father went back home to visit.”
“Isn’t that a good thing? How did he become like this now?”
“He’d found that all of the elders his age are, gone, that there was no one who knew him, back in his, hometown now.”
this is how life, goes…silhouette from online
I’d looked upon my patient with empathy, felt that the years finally, caught up to, him, he’d aged by thirty years, in this one trip back to his, hometown, to his, real, age now.
What chases us, sometimes, it’s not the body, but watching how those we knew of our own age, pass away, feeling that “I’m all alone”, that chill. When there’s no one we can share our own life’s experiences with, maybe, it was like that swordsman, watching his apprentices, play, looking very happy, but what was lost, was what belonged to one self, what we’d shared with those our age, that will, never, come back, again, the shared memories of our, common, pasts.
And so, this is what happens, when you’d, outlived everybody, but it’s not your time to go yet, and you’re just going to have to, weather through this last passage of your life, by yourself, without those who are your age by your side, but look on the bright side, at least, these individuals still had families who cared for them, so that should, make up for something???
The amazing hearts of these, retirees, who are now, giving back to the society, putting in the hours of learning the skills in long-term care provision, to stay sharp, and to, offer their services to those who may need, translated…
On a bright weekend, because of the requirements from the Department of Health Welfare & Sanitations, we’d had to have a total of twenty hours seminars, and six years from now, we get to trade in those accumulated time for our own, long-term care needs; for this five-in-one course, my company was a sponsor, which allowed us to have a cheaper tuition, and I’d, taken advantage of that.
The course started at eight, although it’s not time yet, the students who are too punctual already, filed into the class. One of the man in a baseball cap, soon as he’d entered, a group of the students greeted him, “Principal”.
like this…photo from online
As the first period was finished, the “principal” with his water glass, walked toward the drinking fountain, I’d taken the opportunity to interact with him. Turned out, he once worked as a school principal of a local elementary school, and at the age of fifty-five he’d retired, and, decided to become, a part of the long-term care training crewmembers, disregarded what others may say, that he was, too old for this. Three years went, and, he could, handle, an assortment of cases that passed through his hands, meal prep, baths, and everything else, he’d, become, really agile in providing. As the ten minute break was about to be up, as he was walking away, he’d told, “no matter what path of work, when you want to switch tracks, you have to, lower your status quo from the work you had before, start from ground zero, and, you will have, NO obstacles on your way to learn the new skills needed.
in the training sessions, where the pupils are sharing their experiences with one another…photo from online
During lunch, an older woman who often posed the questions to the lecturer told the manager of my work about what she’d gained from offering her service to the elderly cases. From their conversations, I’d learned, that she’s past seventy, but still very agile, energetic too, her husband has the full retirement pension, they had no worries about money in old age. And she’d, taken the time, as her husband is still quite agile, after she’d sorted through the household chores, she’d, come out to offer her services to the elderly. Being a wonderful housewife and mother, naturally, the work of elderly caretaking came to her easily, what she’s most agile at was, in the designated time, she was able to produce three dishes and a soup. She was enjoying learning and working, told us, “reason why I loved working as a long-term care service provider, is because I get to make some extra money, I can also, keep dementia, away!”
As we lined up after class to receive our certification of competition, I saw the back braces on the pupil next to me, and I’d a sked her what’s wrong? She’d lightly told me, “I had four major operations on my lumbar, if I don’t use the braces, I can’t, stand up straight during the daytime”. It’d made me, bashful, and I’d, reminded her, “do be careful when you go to work!”, then, I’d, felt, that if she didn’t have the stamina, after the four major surgeries she had, she could still, manage her own life, she’d independent to the t that she didn’t need anybody’s help, while she’s still, giving back, and all I can do, is to, give them thumbs up, to show my awe for these, classmates of, mine.
And so, this, is a good option for the retired, if you’re still able-bodied, you can, get trained for the long-term care service provisions, and, you not only get to make a little extra spending cash, aside from your retirement pensions if you have those, you are also, giving back to the society, making your lives, count too!
If you do NOT want to die sooner, stay connected with others in your external environment, the advice of medical professional here, off of the Newspapers, translated…
“Loneliness kills!”, this is not a rumor, but happening, every single, day of our, lives.
A large-scale study found, that if a person feels lonely or is isolated from the society, the individual risks dying sooner than the average person, and this study had been published on June 19th, 2024, in Nature Human Behaviour Magazine.
Loneliness Became a Trending Disease, and Causing Global Concerns
From before this, the head of the Public and Health Services of the U.S., Vivek Murphy published an eighty-one page study titled, “Our Epidemic of Loneliness and Isolation”, pointed out how about more than half of American stated that they’d once felt, lonely, which suggested that loneliness is now, a disease that’s, trending in the U.S., that we need to tackle it bravely, and find the resolves for it.
These two reports were less than fifty days apart, and showed that those who are isolated socially, are unhealthy psychologically, to the point of impacting the development of the society, of the country too, and it’s not hard to see, that this isolated means of interactions, is now, a huge concern for the global community.
dying sooner if you choose to live like this! Photo from online
Actually, there’d been the correlations between social isolation, loneliness and dying early, the teams of rese3archers in Harping Medical University of China, conducted a longitudinal study; the number of participants involved in the research reached a total of 2,205,199 individual, the researchers had, studied their individual patterns of isolation, their loneliness, and their dying, early.
Those Who’d Been Isolated are at a Thirty-Two Percent Higher in Death
They had defined social isolation as the subjective beliefs of lacking human contact, including limited activities online, or living alone; the loneliness meant that in the actual social contacts and their expectations of what the participants believed they should gain in quality of socialization being different, then they’d feel, pain.
The results found, comparing to those who aren’t isolated socially, those who’d been isolated socially have a thirty-two-percent higher chances of dying, cancer as the cause of death is twenty-four-percent more; and, fourteen percent more.
and what you should aim for is this! Old friends, to share some happiness with…photo from online
And the article goes into discussing how isolation socially cause the rate of heart disease, heart attack to get higher, and the risks of cancer also increase. This tells us what we know already, that isolation from the rest of our social environment, IS, harmful to our health.
The Ivory Tower of My Mind 