Blanking out for Thirty Minutes, as Gurdjieff’s “Robot” Takes Over

Two days ago I experienced an episode of transient global amnesia (TGA). It is a most curious syndrome.

A part of the brain is disabled so that one’s immediate memory is permanently lost during a limited period of time. Yet, another part of the brain is aware of this sensory loss. During this episode I kept asking my wife Eva (as she later told me) why was I here, why was I holding a bag of gardening tools, and other questions regarding my immediate environment and circumstances.

This approximately thirty-minute episode occurred while Eva and I were returning from work in our small plot in the communal garden, walking toward the entrance to the building containing our apartment.  My memory stops around 100 meters from the door of the building until I was talking with an EMT in the ambulance, parked outside. According to Eva I was aware the ambulance was coming and I left our apartment to wait for it in the driveway.

My robot had taken over.

George Ivanovich Gurdjieff
1846 – 1949

G.I. Gurdjieff was of the opinion that we should try to remember oneself. He believed that during most of our lives it is the machine or the robot who sees and experiences whatever is there.

Gurdjieff … asked, “Why should we experience so much, only to forget it immediately afterwards? Half our experience rolls off us like water off a duck’s back. Yet experience is food, whose purpose is to enable is to evolve.”

Lots of what we do is carried out without proper thought, almost with robot like routine. I realised this (recently) when I had been out somewhere in my car and then for a moment wasn’t too sure where I was on my journey. I had no awareness of having driven a certain distance. (Source: Mike Perry)

I was examined by the EMT in the ambulance, and then by the emergency department physician at the Akutmottagningen of Sankt Görans Sjukhus. I had become mostly conscious by the time I underwent the EMT exam (that is, able to retain most of my current experiences in conscious memory), and felt the trip to St. George’s Hospital and my examination there to be an interesting adventure.  Eva accompanied me the whole way, including during the CT Scan of my head and its contents.

I seemed to be in no immediate danger, but the protocol is to observe the subject (now a hospital patient) overnight, and to await the results of the scan. Eva left as I was escorted to the observation room (No. 11) of the Neurology unit on the fifth floor, to cohabit with three other patients. It was a comfortable enough bed, but I was restless and spent most of my time in the cafeteria across from the nursing station.  Good food, snacks, juices, and coffee were available, and in the traveling library bin there happened to be a thriller in English I could read (Children of the Revolution, by Peter Robinson).

I had been admitted to the Neuro Unit after the day shift had gone home, so there was late-hours staffing until 0700 the next morning. I was aware of several others as mobile as I, but we kept to ourselves until breakfast time in the cafeteria.

Hippocampus within the brain

TGA can be viewed as an illness of transient hippocampal insufficiency. It is a clinical syndrome with no clear aetiology identified. Most symptoms are transient and resolve within a few hours. The incidence of TGA is approximately 2.9 to 10 people per 100,000 worldwide. It typically affects patients between 50 and 80 years of age, at an average age of 61. [Note: I am in my 81st year]

The clinical presentation of TGA is anterograde and partial retrograde amnesia lasting less than 24 hours without any other neurological or congestive symptoms. Most cases show complete resolution of symptoms within a few hours from onset of symptoms. Brain CT scan and conventional sequences of MRI brain show no abnormalities. The underlying cause of transient global amnesia remain unknown. There appears to be a link between transient global amnesia and a history of migraines, though the underlying factors that contribute to both conditions aren’t fully understood. [Note: I experience migraine auras without headache periodically and, perhaps significantly, more than usual for 36 hours around a week before this TGA incident].
Sources:
https://radiopaedia.org/articles/transient-global-amnesia
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4911939/
http://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/transient-global-amnesia/basics/causes/con-20032746

As alluded above, after the day shift began two other patients under observation gathered at the table where I was eating my breakfast. They were men, one between 65 and 70, the other perhaps nearer my age. Both were world travelers with many stories to tell. We told each other about our condition and experiences, and complimented members of the staff who visited us for services (food, medications, information—they unexpectedly gave me my daily dose of blood pressure medication which I had not brought with me.)

After some waiting for the doctor to attend the more seriously affected patients, we were, one by one, told we could go home. One fellow, however, was told to return the next day for an ultrasound examination of his carotid arteries, which indicated to me that he was suspected of having, not TGA, but TIA.

A transient ischemic attack (TIA) is like a stroke, producing similar symptoms, but usually lasting only a few minutes and causing no permanent damage.

Often called a ministroke, a transient ischemic attack may be a warning. About 1 in 3 people who have a transient ischemic attack will eventually have a stroke, with about half occurring within a year after the transient ischemic attack.

http://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/transient-ischemic-attack/home/ovc-20314613

Of course, I hope that the ultrasound scan will rule out such a possibility for my new acquaintance. He has said he will contact me by email to invite me to his place in the country for some Mosel wine and conversation. The other fellow seemed interested in reading one or more of my blogs and I may well hear from him also. I hope so.

This experience has brought home to me some notion of the mysteries which remain about the brain and its functions, despite marvelous advances in the various medical sciences. Also, I now have direct evidence of the “robot” that G.I. Gurdjieff identified and warned against relying upon–that is, to be consciously awake to everything one does. (Read Colin Wilson’s “G.I. Gurdjieff: The War Against Sleep).

In addition, I am more alert to possible memory lapses, no doubt overly much right now, to be alert to my aging neurological functions.

As one ages, one’s thought processes may appear, to younger people, to be slow or faulty. Willa Cather had an answer to that notion in her book, Death Comes to the Archbishop:

Sometimes, when Magdalena or Bernard came in and asked him a question, it took him several seconds to bring himself back to the present.  He could see they thought his mind was failing; but it was only extraordinarily active in some other part of the great picture of his life–some part of which they knew nothing.

 

The World Changed

I recently read an article by a person whose “world changed” at a young age by the event of “9/11” in New York City. My reading of her well-written memoir initiated a memory search for that moment in my life when the perception of the world may have changed — that is, to have shaken me loose from the unexamined feelings of comfort and safety that childhood, for some, allows.

After pondering, I found that my awakening was gradual, with punctuated moments of fear, despair, horror and, in the case of “9/11,” anger.

I was one month away from becoming age five when the Japanese Air Force bombed Pearl Harbor, Honolulu, Hawaii on December 7, 1941. I don’t have a memory of the actual day of the invasion. What I have is the memory, subsequently developed, of all the pictures and commentary since that time. It didn’t affect me at age five — this was just the way the world was.

My first memories are of living with my parents and my mother’s family in the top flat of a Victorian house on Arguello Boulevard in San Francisco, around three miles from the Pacific Ocean. None of the men in the house were called to military service, but Dad and Uncle Harry were ‘war workers’ in the shipyards of San Francisco, and in Richmond across the Bay. Grandpa was too old for service.

Uncle Harry was also a block warden for the times when ‘blackouts’ were called by the civil defense organization. He was to assure that we and the neighbors had pulled down their blackout curtains and shades so that no light could be seen by possible invaders from off the coast of San Francisco. These were the times the whole family, seven of us, would gather by candlelight in the living room to listen to news on the radio, or to music on the big Victrola. I imagined Japanese planes and submarines searching, searching, but finding nothing because we were so good at hiding. It wasn’t scary.

Later in my youth, I would play with other kids, boys, in building a small fire and throwing into it stick figures of Japan’s General Tojo, Italy’s Dictator Mussolini, and Germany’s Fuehrer Adolf Hitler. Then the war was over, and I was eight years old.

My dad got a job in Manhattan with his cousin, a printer, and found a railroad flat in Brooklyn for us, a few blocks from the docks. Mom, sister Diane, and I followed later to arrive by train on New year’s Day, 1946. I learned to live with fear and uncertainty in this neighborhood, more and more as I grew toward adolescence.

When I got to junior high school, we learned how to act when the sirens went off, signaling a nuclear bomb attack from the Soviet Union. These felt weird, and I always felt that such preparations were useless because everything would be wiped out anyway.

Toward the end of the 1940s, many people from Puerto Rico started arriving in New York’s boroughs, including Brooklyn. One summer day a car full of Puerto Rican immigrants was circling around 48th Street, looking for a destination, the occupants unfamiliar with the neighborhood. They had interrupted the stickball game of the older guys too many times, so they stopped the car, bounced on it, rolled it, and beat up the guys in the car, using pipes and other things as clubs. I ran away to our tenement up the street, feeling as if I had been beaten up.

Not long after this we moved back to San Francisco and, later, to Berkeley. We felt safe again.

Until, ten years later, October, 1962. This is when the world changed for me: the Cuban Missile Crisis. I was living in Berkeley, attending the University. I often awoke, sweating, having dreamed a nuke had exploded over the whole Bay Area.

Then, then in 1963 President John F. Kennedy was assassinated, and began a horrible period of uncertainty and anger and disbelief in the authorities which the ‘Warren Commission’ could not quite damp down.

The civil rights leader Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated, then Senator Robert Kennedy gunned down within months of each other in 1968. I didn’t care that much for the Kennedy brothers or family, but upon “Bobby’s” death I felt America was coming apart.

Then the horrors of the Vietnam War, in which I was too old to directly participate, but I saw and felt the havoc it wrought on the young people and their elders.

I was present, in 1964–1965, at the ‘Free Speech Movement’ on the Berkeley campus, which began as a righteous protest and devolved into a battle between well-organized radicals and the State. It was warfare on campus and, in my mind, began the destruction of universities everywhere in the USA.

Time passes, wounds are layered over while one continues to do what humans tend to do, make families, go to work to support them, try to enjoy life occasionally. The horrors are buried, then… 9/11.

I could not believe, at first, I was not seeing a video-fiction, a story. My guts roiled, at age 64, wanting to go to battle with the hidden perpetrators.

I felt I finally understood the anger of the nation upon the bombing attack on Pearl Harbor.

The general anger and concomitant madness have not dissipated. I cannot now imagine what life will be like for my five children and, especially, my four grandchildren.

In grade school we used to sing “God Bless America.” Is there any singing in grade school these days?

Feeling Old

From my notes on July 7, 2016, while on holiday in Bad Gastein, Austria

I am feeling old today:

  • The knees are going
  • Short-term memory lapses
  • Irritability over minor inconveniences
  • Despair over the decline in culture

On the other hand:

  • A feeling of comradeship with people my age
  • An appreciation of the connectedness of all things
  • The acceptance of minor miracles as part of everyday life (e.g., Jung’s synchronicity)
  • Birdsong, flowers, trees
  • The immensity of the Earth

The Ballad of Lars Branje

ScreenHunter_437 May. 06 11.58I had seen Lars for well over a year, at the exercise gym I visit twice per week. Lars is notable—tall, lean, white-haired and looking determined in his use of the equipment. Did I say he was an old guy? Yes, he is and, being one myself, I felt a kinship to this fellow survivor.

After more than a year of being around each other at least once a week, we finally acknowledged each other’s existence (such things develop slowly in Sweden) by nodding our heads to each other as we passed in the exercise area of Friskis & Svettis (which I like to call Frisky & Sweaty).

Finally, we uttered words to each other. I quickly let him know I am incompetent in Swedish. He effortlessly switched to English which my poor hearing was able to process adequately.

Lars at the Gym

One thing led to another. I imagined he might wish to write or dictate something I could put in my “Being Old” blog. Immediately upon my suggesting this, he started his story, which eventually led me to his nearby apartment where I viewed a DVD film of the first corneal transplant in Europe, 1957, at a hospital in Jönköping, Sweden. Lars was the recipient of that transplant.

Lars and Plane-edited

Lars Branje (right), training as an Army jet pilot in Ljungbyhed, Sweden (1955)

While training to be a Swedish Army jet pilot, Lars found that his eyesight was slowly fading. He was unable to continue training.

He became a sports journalist for Norrlands-Posten newspaper, then the Allehanda news organization (now MittMedia AB), which gave him the opportunity to travel abroad.When he was in Milan covering a match between the Milan club and Juventus of Turin, his sight failed completely.

He went to a Milan hospital where he was diagnosed with Keratoconus. From the staff at this hospital he learned there was a world-famous eye surgeon in Sweden. Lars was referred to Dr. Henrik Sjögren  in Jönköping. This was the first of many “lucky” event in Lars’s life—lucky, in this instance, that the Milan medical staff knew of this surgeon in Lars’s home country.

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Henrik Samuel Conrad Sjögren, eye surgeon (1957)

Doctor Sjögren was known internationally for identifying what is now called “Sjögren’s Syndrome,” after having published the English translation of his doctoral thesis. As head of the newly established eye clinic in Jönköping, under the aegis of the University of Gothenberg, Dr. Sjögren conducted research into surgical replacement of the cornea. He developed an instrument and a technique that was used in other countries for many years.

Lars and Dr. Sjögren established rapport and, because of Lars’s youth and good health, he was chosen to undergo the first corneal transplants (both eyes), using corneas from cadavers. The operations were successful and became widely celebrated in Sweden.

Lars Branje-09

Bengt Bedrup and Lars Branje during a televised interview, 1957

After surgery, Lars needed to lie quietly  for three months. During one interview session after surgery with TV journalist Bengt Bedrup , Lars asked him for a lighted smoke . The photograph on the side table is of Lars’s  children, Lena and Tomas.

[Click here to see the interview]

Lying quietly in bed or anywhere for an extended period is a “katastrof” for Lars. His nature is to be physically active. Later in life he ran the Stockholm Marathon, skied the Vasaloppet, became certificated in the  “Swedish classic circuit” (cross country skiing, cycling, swimming, and cross country running), and ran the Lidingöloppet (30 km.)

Nord07Lars says he has had a wonderful life. After working for the Allehanda news organization, he signed on with Radio Nord, popularly known as “Pirate Radio,” although it operated within the existing laws . As a member of the broadcast crew, he was stationed on the vessel Bon Jour in the Baltic Sea off the eastern coast of Sweden, two weeks on/one week off. It offered live news and recorded music not then available on the official radio stations of Sweden, and was preferred by many Swedes.

The most memorable event of his work with Radio Nord was to be the first person to announce to Sweden that Dag Hammarskjöld, The UN’s Secretary General and former Prime Minister of Sweden,  had died in an airplane crash in Rhodesia (now Zambia), 18 September 1961. Lars was in radio contact with pilots he knew from his Army days, and they gave him information not available through regular news outlets.

Radio Nord started on 8 March 1961 but had to shut down only fifteen months later, in June 1962, following passage of a new Swedish law aimed at silencing its broadcasts.

But, the official “Swedish Radio” had learned from the popularity of Radio Nord, so despite an official prohibition from hiring former Radio Nord employees, Lars then went to work for Sveriges Radio AB as a live announcer. Up until this time, all the programs were pre-recorded for broadcast at a later time.

Lars remembers the 1960s and 1970s as the years to be “out in the world.” He mentions the Congo and Vietnam. As a journalist he has interviewed Neil Armstrong in Houston, and Louis Armstrong and Ray Charles at Gröna Lund, the major amusement park in Stockholm.

After around four years with Swedish radio, Lars became a free-lance journalist for radio and TV companies, and for the Swedish Air Force.

The highlight of his career was a private half-hour interview with Nelson Mandela, upon his release from twenty-seven years of incarceration in South African prisons, 1990.

Both of Lars’s new corneas lasted until he was covering a soccer match in Toronto, where the Maple Leafs were playing the Philadelphia Flyers. His right eye stopped working. He returned to Sweden and saw Dr. Per Fagerholm, then at St. Erik Eye Hospital in Stockholm. His right eye was inoperable because internal pressure had separated the optic nerve from the brain. He retained the use of his left eye, until 2012 when he effectively went blind.

Lars Branje-12

Branka Samolov, Surgeon, St. Erik Eye Hospital, Stockholm

Returning to St. Erik Eye Hospital, he encountered the surgeon Dr. Branka Samolov with whom he established good rapport, as he did with Dr. Sjögren in 1957. And also, again, because of his good health and positive attitude they together decided to go ahead with another corneal transplant, recognizing the increased risk due to his now older eye, especially in that it had undergone previous surgeries.

It was a success. The headline of a TV news article quotes Lars speaking to his surgeon, “I can see your face! You are my saving angel”

[See the Expressen TV News broadcast here]

Forty-five years had elapsed since his first eye surgery. The hospital staff made note that Lars Branje represents the entire history of corneal transplantation in Sweden. The advances in medical knowledge and surgical techniques now allowed Lars to completely avoid lying in bed after his surgery, being immediately ambulatory.

Here is where Lars said that his “luck” was again emphasized: by being able to have the best surgeon available for his problem.

Now that his sight is returned to him, he has resumed his activities as a pensionär, meeting former colleagues–pilots and journalists–and enjoying his children and grandchildren; “doing whatever I want to do.”

The Pill Box

It holds three weeks of daily doses of Losartan, for mild hypertension, and tiny vitamin B-12 pills. There’s no connection between the two—it’s just that both are small enough to fit together in the twenty-one spaces, measuring around three cubic centimeters each. The multi-vitamin/mineral and Omega-3 capsules are too large to fit with the others.

This morning I emptied the last of the small pills into my hand, thus marking another three weeks of life having past, seemingly, very quickly. After conducting my after-breakfast pill-swallowing, I brought the empty box into the room where I store the refills.

Shortly before my friend Fred died last year, I wrote to him that my life seems to pass in three-week increments, measured by the re-filling the little pill box. He acknowledged in his responding letter that he, too, had certain recurring events in his life which mark the inevitable, ineluctable passage from fertilization to stasis (or, ‘room temperature,’ as Fred preferred to say.)

When not in a hurry to get somewhere else in the morning, as I reach for the pill box in my bed stand I pause to reflect on the three weeks just past. Usually, no particular event comes to mind, but I do a mental body-and-spirit scan to see if I can discern being three weeks older than three weeks ago.  I can’t. It is a mystery. It is inescapably true that I have aged three weeks since I last refilled this little box. Yet, I feel no different from the last time I conducted this review.

Now, gazing out the window of my home-office, where I do my writing and pillbox filling, I see the quiet lake welcoming the return of birds who nest and feed and breed here. They have an annual rhythm to guide them, but I cannot imagine they have the capacity to dwell on having aged another year. They are just living their lives as Nature and experience have inculcated in them.

a sunny morning
the birds and I are aging
alive together

Brahms’s Requiem: “All Flesh is as Grass”

As I age I think more about death, especially as I see relatives and friends dropping away. I am blessed with good health and with genes that indicate continuing longevity, so I am not morbid about myself in these ruminations.

I still feel the absence of my father, my sister Diane, my life-long friend Fred Pape, and, quite recently, I thought of Uncle Harry (died in 1993)  whose oft-repeated phrase suddenly popped into my head at the proper occasion: “take it easy.” To indulge and assuage these thoughts and feelings I listen to music: most often Chopin and Grieg, occasionally Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninoff to evoke my mother.

I recently ‘discovered’ liturgical music, primarily the Mozart “Great” Mass in C Minor and his Requiem; and, the Stabat Mater of Pergolesi. Although I will never tire of them, I play them less often now, as I can conjure elements of each in my head when I wish. What I most recently have discovered that my favorite “classical” composer, Brahms, also wrote a requiem, about which more below.

einstein-visualized

A requiem is an act or token of remembrance. The word is from the Latin requies, ‘rest’, as in requiescat in pace—‘rest in peace’.

The “act or token” is most often conducted as a Christian ceremony in recognition of someone’s death (also groups of people).

The “act” in church is often accompanied by music written specifically for remembering the dead. In this setting, the requiem takes the form of a liturgical mass.

Simply stated a ‘requiem’ is an occasion to remember someone upon his or her death, and to wish her or him a peaceful “rest.”

Johannes Brahms (1833 – 1897) wrote a magnificent piece of music for such an occasion, Ein Deutsches Requiem (1868), “A German Requiem.” And, even though he used text from the Old and New Testaments of the Lutheran Bible (in German, not the traditional Latin, hence the “German” in the title), it was not written to be performed in church, although there is nothing to prevent this. Nowhere in the text of the vocal portion of the music is there mention of Jesus Christ as is required for a liturgical mass.

He did use “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life” of chapter 3, verse 16 of the Gospel of John (King James Version cited here). But, as he told conductor Karl Reinthaler, “As far as the text is concerned, I confess that I would gladly omit even the word German and instead use Human; also with my best knowledge and will I would dispense with passages like John 3:16. On the other hand, I have chosen one thing or another because I am a musician, because I needed it, and because with my venerable authors [the Old and New Testaments] I can’t delete or dispute anything. But I had better stop before I say too much.” (Source).

Before discovering this piece, I was unaware that Brahms had written what could be termed ‘religious’ music. In researching this article I found he was not formally a religious man, but has been described as a ‘humanist,’ a term and concept I find almost abhorrent. I hasten to add I am not a member of any church or religion, and do not proselytize anything. I have written elsewhere on this, so will refrain from explaining further.

Nonetheless, I find that the second movement of Brahms’ Ein Deutsches Requiem, “All Flesh is as Grass,” grabs me and moves me as well as any of the liturgical music mentioned above. I perceive Brahms having been inspired by a power greater than man, just as with Pergolesi, Bach, Mozart and countless others who have written liturgical and secular music.

Here is the translated text of the second movement of Ein Deutsches Requiem, “All Flesh is as of Grass” (Source):

1 Peter 1:24
For all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass. The grass withereth, and the flower thereof falleth away.

James 5:7
Be patient therefore, brethren, unto the coming of the Lord. Behold, the husbandmen waiteth for the precious fruit of the earth, and hath long patience for it, until he receive the early and latter rain.

1 Peter 1:25
But the word of the Lord endureth for ever.

Isaiah 35:10
And the ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads: they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.

The words speak for themselves. The music contains a death march, but ends in the glory indicated by the words.

einstein-visualized reversed.jpg

So, I think of those who have departed, immersed in music which celebrates death, becoming spent of sorrowful emotions and filled with strength for the journey which continues.

From Vasil Georgiev

HOW MY LIFE IS GOING ON WHEN “BEING OLD”

I congratulate Ron for his initiative to create the blog “Being old,” where every old human being can share his memories, his current life, and opinion.

My name is Vasil Georgiev. I was born on 13 January, 1931 in Plovdiv, the second-largest city in Bulgaria. I originate from a middle class Bulgarian family. I was one year old when my parents moved from Plovdiv to Sofia, the capital of Bulgaria. Here I spent my life until 2001 when I moved to Stockholm, Sweden.

The reason for my move was the death of my spouse Dr. Nadja Georgieva. Nadja was a stomatologist, specialist in orthodontics. She died from colon cancer with metastases. Nadja and I have one daughter who graduated in medicine in Sofia Medical University and later got a scientific degree, a PhD in Pharmacology. In 1990 my daughter got an invitation for post-doctoral research at Astra Zeneca, in Sweden. Subsequently she moved to Karolinska Institutet in Stockholm and within a couple of years became Associate Professor in Neuroscience.

IMG_6636

In Cannes. France

I graduated in medicine in 1954. After graduation I worked as a military doctor for two years at the southern border of Bulgaria. This kind of medical work did not fit well with my ambitions. So I left the army and spent almost two years in the country as general practitioner. Subsequently, I got a position as research fellow at the Department of Pharmacology, Institute of Physiology, later named Institute of Neurobiology, Bulgarian Academy of Sciences, in Sofia. Here I spent forty four years doing research in the field of neuropsychopharmacology. During this period I received two doctorates: PhD, and DSc (Doctor of Science). I also achieved positions as Associate Professor and Full Professor.

I was a leader of a research team and also a scientific supervisor of large number of PhD students. During the same time, I gave lectures in Pharmacology for students at Sofia State University’s Faculty of Biology, as well as at Sofia Medical University, and at the new First Private Bulgarian University.

As I had not been a member of the communist party which governed Bulgaria during 45 years I was not able to take an exclusive position at scientific institutions. Instead, I concentrated at making good research and publishing the results. During my whole research career, I have published more than 230 papers, predominantly in English, in internationally recognized scientific journals. Since I was able to establish scientific collaborations with many colleagues in different countries (UK, Hungary, Poland, former USSR, Japan, former Jugoslavia, Greece, Sweden), a large number of these publications was done in collaboration with them. Significant for my scientific career was the year (1968-69) which I spent as a Riker International Fellow at the Laboratory of Neuropharmacology, run by Prof. W. Feldberg, National Institute for Medical Research in London. I won this fellowship in a competition through the International Union of Pharmacology (IUPHAR). I spent also three months (1990) as an invited Professor in the Department of Pharmacology, Kurume Medical University in Japan.

During the period 1992-1996 I worked as visiting scientist at the Department of Pharmacology, Karolinska Institutet, Stockholm, together with Prof. B. B. Fredholm, with financial support from Swedish grants and the European Science Foundation. This joint research was realized in the framework of bilateral contract between Bulgarian Academy of Sciences and Swedish Royal Academy of Sciences. As a results of this latter collaboration we have published five papers in scientific journals with high impact factor. All my scientific publications are continuously cited in the scientific literature.

When I moved to Stockholm I had already retired (1999). My life changed completely. In Stockholm I joined the ESCC (English Speaking Community Club). There I met interesting people speaking English which was very good for keeping my knowledge in English at a reasonably good level. Here I met Ron Pavellas. We both found similar interests in some aspects of life, and particularly, in music. For quite a number of years we regularly have met once or twice a month and discuss which concerts of classical music to attend. We attend concerts usually either at Berwaldhallen or at Konserthuset; sometimes at churches. Ron very often describes his impressions from the concerts in articles in his music blog. In summer time we visit some museums. Ron rather often shares with me his writing ideas. I try to give him useful advice which he sincerely appreciates.

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In Vienna, with Johannes Brahms

I turned 85 years on the 13th of January 2016.

Being rather old and also being a physician who has some practice in medicine and in medical research I would like to share my modest experience which I have in keeping a good health condition.

I always start the day with 30 minutes or more of exercises to improve the muscles, mainly of my spine. The exercises have been described in the book “Bible of the people with back pain” (translated in Bulgarian) by the Australian physiotherapist Sara Key, working in London. As I have been suffering for many years from lumbago, complicated with lumbar disc hernia, as well as of sciatica, with permanent numbness, these exercises help me very much to be in good physical condition. I also use some other exercises for the other parts of the body. When I perform the exercises I usually listen to some classical music (Chopin, Beethoven, Mozart, Grieg, etc).

After the exercises I have my breakfast in which I include quite a number of seeds, some nuts and always blueberries, one of the more potent food in terms of protecting the brain. I also take a small piece of bread with butter, cheese and olives, together with a cup of green or black tea when I take my medicines for the day.

I continue the day with some house work, reading the news from electronic media (mainly in Bulgarian) or scientific literature in English. Lunch I have at home eating food which has been prepared by my daughter during the weekend. Sometimes, during the week days, I myself also cook. I usually cook beans or lentils once a week. Both are extremely healthful foods. I remember my mother used to do the same. Beans, especially , are believed to be a Bulgarian national food. Everybody in Bulgaria likes both beans and lentils.

My mother lived 86 years; my father lived 87 years. My paternal grandfather lived 97 years. My maternal grandmother lived 90 years. It seems that I have family predisposition for long-living. It is not my purpose to live long but I try to organize my life in such a way that to avoid awful factors from my life. Usually I eat fruits (avocado or bananas, apples, grapes, mango, oranges, berries, pears, etc.) after each meal. After lunch I usually take my nap (for 20-30 min). Than I go outside for a walk (45-60 min). In the afternoon I usually drink either coffee with milk (cappuccino) or tea (rooibos or green).

My evening meal is always with my daughter after her return from work. We prefer meat from chicken, veal and also fish which are consumed mainly at lunch and during weekend. At supper we never eat meat but mainly vegetables in salad form (spinach, ruccola, etc.) with olives, cheese etc. We have reduced to a minimum our bread intake. We also have tremendously reduced the use of sugar in any form. We regularly observe our body weight and calculate BMI. We also regularly take vitamin D3.

I have to mention that the existence of good psychological climate at home is very important. My grandson, who was schooled in Stockholm until he enrolled in the study of Economics at the prestigious University of Warwick in England, graduated with very successful scores and now has a good job in London’s financial center.

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In Monte Carlo

When possible we travel abroad together. For example we traveled to London two years ago to attend my grandson’s graduation ceremony at Warwick University. We usually spend one month in Bulgaria. Last year (2015) we traveled to Vienna, as well as to the French Riviera (Nice, Cannes, Monaco).

Before going to bed I usually read (novels, stories, etc.), but I avoid staying up late. I go to sleep before midnight. I try to have 7-8 hours sleep in the night.

Nice and interesting spending of my time at home is following the RESEARCH GATE, an internet portal for scientific literature and activity. I have registered into it and receive regularly information for my scientific publications (followers, citations, questions and answers, etc.). So far I have 1202 citations of my publications in the scientific literature, 880 reads and 222 profile views. This means that the researchers are still interested in my publications. Through this portal I could ask the authors for sending me copies of their articles. I could also discuss with the authors their results.

In conclusion, I would say that it is important to age with dignity. Being old is condition when life and professional experience had been achieved. And if the old person is secured financially , has rather good health, keeps good physical and mental activity, has good friends, and most importantly, lives in good psychological atmosphere at home – such a person might contribute with knowledgeable and useful advice to the surrounding people. Life can be good and interesting, despite of the age, if someone knows how to spend it.