20 Comments

Why? You ask why? Are you that essential to our reality? Why? Why did you get a reprieve from your eternal dirt nap? Why were you saved? You answer and I quote “to practice kindness.” You receive the gift of kindness and humanity from your caregiver in the hospital now it’s your turn. Kindness for all, we are all one humanity with our faults and issues, we all deserve to be treated kindly. You don’t have to wonder why, you just have to know that we are here for one another. Thank you for all you do.

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my dear friend—a million thank yous for staying alive! We need your perspective and generosity through these historical times. I am not a writer but a reader, so I need you to keep on typing. Oh—and the interview with Paul Simon was the perfect way to start my day on the water. WoW.

I Love "you guys."

Teri Byrne

Friday Harbor, Washington

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You bought “a tear to my eye” this morning on the beauty of your words. You, my friend, have learned what we are here to learn….compassion, and you do “ go forth and multiply” your compassion and love to others. Thank you.

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Inspiring, my friend...my first comment as a new subscriber. PK

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You are one of the funniest men on this earth who has a well-honed gift for entertaining people while you hit the nail on the head of our human foibles. In addition to listening to A Prairie Home Companion for decades, I’ve had the opportunity to witness your live performances twice — once when you were accompanied by Rich Dworsky on piano, at the Paramount Theater in Ashland, Kentucky, and once just you, solo on the stage, at Shawnee State University in Portsmouth, Ohio. And that last performance was a jaw-dropping, riveting tour de force as you created right in front of us, your devoted audience. You are a National Treasure, Mr. Keillor, and we want you around for as long as possible!

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One cannot say or write enough good things about nurses. They hold the entire mess together, most often with exceptional grace. When you got a nurse in your corner, you got something.

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I wouldn't count out the white, hetero men entirely (Not yet, anyway.) As a Geriatric Millennial, who pales at the adjective, there is a large contingent of us who want to both preserve the tendencies of the WHM towards sports, bourbon and films where nothing comes out unexploded- while also assuring those same WHM that they can express their feelings, love the delicate things in life, and demand to be paid a living wage even if they're not the "educated elite." We just want enhanced options. A man who will have the freedom to chop down trees and spit if he chooses, while he can also have the freedom to recognize the damage that generations of emotionally withholding parents did to his family and work to break the curse with his own children. NASCAR and Poetry if he chooses.

Of course we want this from men of all races and sexual orientations- we want it from all people. But I think even if my contingent may be small, it is a bastion against the disappearance of the white, hetero man from the planet.

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I love that phrase: "in films where nothing comes out unexploded." Thanks.

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Here, Here, Rhiannon! YYYEEEESSSSSSSSSSSS! That is indeed the ticket! We women make a lot of noise abut "gender liberation", but it should be equally available for men!

I've talked with several young men - immigrants, as it happens - when they were contemplating becoming male nurses. They have a lot to bring to this caring profession, starting with the strong muscles to help bed-ridded patients get moving, or just to have their bedsheets changed! Beyond that, though, men in this "predominantly female" profession often have different outlooks. Their mental perspectives can really supplement the "oozing sympathy" that female nurses are often characterized with.

Neither gender will be free of the bonds of "public image" until both genders are given the freedom to go beyond stereotypical perceptions. May you have good fortune as you follow your quest for enhanced options. White Hetero Men Matter too!

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Very moved by this posting, having myself survived an aorta dissect that the majority do not survive. I was near enough to the ER and the doctor coming off his rotation in the ER happened to be a specialist in aortas. He performed six hours of operations. A real "procedure".

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You're a fortunate soul, as you know. Live large.

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Do you wonder what the "atmosphere" in the operating room was like, while you were anesthetized? As a translator, I got to watch stents inserted through groin veins in the operating room on two occasions. Was what I saw anything like those old medical TV shows like "Doctor Kildare?" No. Did it have a "Laurel and Hardy" - Laugh a minute at standup hospital comedy - air to it? No again. The doctors didn't discuss their golf games, or the latest news. It was all very calm and mechanical, as though they did things like this every day. They probably do. On the other hand, as I watched on a screen that broadcast the same images that the doctors were seeing on the monitor, I could follow their journey through the vein, and watch as they applied their treatment! The technology available today is truly astonishing!

If you ask me, this "patient" who couldn't play football in high school because of a heart abnormality, did an absolutely fantastic job of "Staying Alive" until the medical community perfected their ingenious solutions! It could be that the Good Lord has seen a long and glorious life for you, Dear Host, all along. It's only now that this medical "Life Extender" has become a physical reality. It augers several decades to come with significant contributions to your already remarkable career! Viva Medicine, and Viva Our Precious Host!

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Well, Viva Medicine, anyway. The Host feels as if he's been on the losing side in a rough football game and his chest is black and blue to prove it.

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Thanks for the Observations From the Front Lines! When I was translating for others, the doctors would come out of the operating room, all smiles, "The operation was a success!" they'd congratulate each other.

I'm sure they were speaking "In the Long Term!" Your immediate reactions are probably "par for the course," but "side effects" that the surgeons would just as soon treat as "minor inconveniences!" After a rough football game, the trainers might "Tape you up and slap you on the back (or the rear end) and say "Good Job!"

"Good Job, to you, Our Marvelous Host!" Good job, for making a health-promoting decision, and bearing the consequences with wry humor! The (masked, nowadays?) Companion of the Prairies Stalwartly Retains His Humor Despite Enormous Difficulties! Way to Go, Ever Gracious Host!

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Thank you for this. The humor, grace and humility expressed in your writing touched me, put a tear in my eye. You remind us of our shared humanity. I, for one, am glad you have more days ahead of you to remind us.

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But what? Keep writing, my friend!

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You're doing an important job right now - you have the gift of communication, an ability that is becoming more and more rare in this tech-infested days, and your words are precious. I am so happy that you have been given extra time to continue to spread kindness. Enjoy your life - and have yourself another cup of apple sauce, my friend. :)

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Dear Wired Host! You worry about the secret effects of a defibrillator on your fantasies. I wouldn't be surprised if there were many different ways for the mind to "take flight!" For me, when I was going on forty, the specialists at Kaiser Permanente decided they should check my thyroid level every time I came in. The specialist put me on a regimen of "Synthyroid" to up the anti on my stats. The medication did more than I had bargained for. One day I was sitting on a dock in Marina del Rey, passing time, when suddenly I was aware of a powerful "force field" up in the stratosphere. It was like some sort of constructed object - the only plausible one that occurred to me was an alien space ship. It cast this powerful beam at me. Suddenly, I felt I had the "GUT" - "Grand Unified Theory" of everything, there in my cerebrum! It was marvelous! I couldn't wait to tell everyone I met that I had been given "The Answers!"

There was only one problem. I couldn't put this into English, or any other human language, for that matter. And because I couldn't decipher it, I couldn't remember it, either!

You mentioned LSD. I wouldn't be surprised if that compound activates a very particular part of the brain. And, perhaps, a significant change in one's brain's activity can foster "Tripping." For me, I stopped taking the synthyroid, and my my natural levels went back to acceptable concentrations all by themselves.

As to the defibrillator, things will probably settle down once your system becomes accustomed to it. But, still... It's kind of fun, isn't it, to have gone on a "trip" or two, just to know what it's like!

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I'm teary eyed but not incoherent. There were no apples in Eden. It was a fig! We have one tree. No apple can hope to compete, even if in a pie. You're welcome to come try some.

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