Tenth chapter

Thinking about death in Portland

I'm not ready to make nice

I'm not ready to back down

I'm still mad as hell and

I do not have time to go round and round and round

Dixie Chicks

As I get off the train in Portland after 18 hours of traveling, I feel as if I am running a temperature. I'm taking a taxi to the air bnb I've found close to university and go straight to the big comfortable bed without falling asleep.

For many years after my mother's death, I was really hypochondriacal. There was hardly a body part that I did not imagine I had cancer in. In recent years, I have suffered from mild, but real diseases. I have been seeing double because of suspected aneurysm in the brain, pneumonia, dysphagia, swallowing difficulties, shingles, inflammation of the heal, borrelia, anemia, crystalline disease, a lot of colds, osteoarthritis, and now a prostate enlargement that is likely to be benign.

When I had a suspected aneurysm in my brain, I was advised by a doctor not to go so far from the hospital as there was a risk that it would burst. Neil Young was operated in New York for his aneurysm in the brain on Tuesday, April 2005, a planned surgery. The week before he played in Nashville in the concert film Heart of Gold, directed by Jonathan Demme.
One of his fellow musicians express his wonder that Nei is there and is totally concentrated on the concert, not on the upcoming brain surgery. Both the film and the newly written music have a touch of nostalgia, so I suspect it was his way of processing the fact that even rock heroes suffer from disease and death. Already at the concert in Nashville, eleven years ago, his face was aging. Although he seemed moderately anxious for his brain surgery, the face was even less worrying.

I cannot help admiring him for his energy. If someone were to put a generator on him, maybe it would suffice to provide Joshua Tree with electricity.

Even though my disorders each can be a little trifle, they are tiring all together. At least I'm tired of hanging in waiting rooms, even though I never had to wait long for the doctor.

When I celebrated my 70^th birthday, I realized more clearly than before it was a matter of time before a life-threatening disease appeared. Several good friends, much younger than me, have left this life prematurely after accidents and illnesses. It helped to realize that my days are counted. When I'm home, I read the obituaries in the papers everyday and check how old the dead are. More often the 70's like me. It's hard to understand that the average life expectancy for men is as high as just over 80, when so many in the obituaries are younger than I am.

Right now I'm not afraid to die, but the more afraid of getting sick and getting into a situation where I'm stuck in bed without being able to get somewhere by myself.

Maybe it's stupid to say before I've suffered a really life-threatening disease, but the other consequences of the difficult diseases scare me more than death.

I think it was Woody Allen who said the he is not afraid to die, but he doesn’t want to be there when it happens. I feel the same.

A symptom of old age that does not seem so dangerous, but bothering me, is that I rarely walk stairs without sticking to the handrail. I'm afraid to fall and break my arms, legs or neck.

I'm wondering why I feel a temperature this evening, but I'm not getting any answer. I google on some vague symptoms, but find no reasonable answer. It would not be fun to lie in bed here, even though it is very comfortable.

There are also other physical downsides of old age. Many of my friends have hearing aids. Aside from the fact that it hurts in my ears, I have so far no problem hearing. My dad's hearing aid was often hit by acoustic feedback and sounded a bit like Neil Young's guitar.

Another problem that adds to age is that it gets increasingly difficult to remember names. It is a sign that the brain is fading away? Sometimes I notice younger people than I sometimes forget names and even lose other words.

It's not just the name we forget. Many have trouble remembering where they have put their cell phone, keys and other things. To my great pleasure, I have not yet that problem. Since many years I have routines that make me almost always know where I've put things I need.

Many of us also have have a problem with the balance. In the winter, olds fall like ninepins on the poorly plowed snowy sidewalks. Their thigh bones are broken and the brains are shaken. I have not yet crashed, but it's probably just a matter of time. Once last year I stumbled and fell in the stairs at home, but I just broke a finger.

Now I wake up with my bladder feeling like it is going to explode. Shit, I forgot to use the catheter again last night. I succeeded to pee the natural way on the train going here, but I should obviously have emptied the bladder properly anyway. I'm looking for a catheter and rushing out on the toilet. The volume is estimated one liter. Hope this has not led to a urinary tract infection.

As a little curiosity, I am reading my urine diary, how many catheters I have used on myself during the trip. According to my estimation, I'll put the 100th catheter in Denver or possibly in Chicago, but I have to stop forgetting about the drainages to avoid getting more urinary tract infections.

Back in the room, I suddenly feel really fit for fight. Then the next question arises. How do I spend time in Portland? In any case, I will start by calling some distant relatives living in a suburb. Then I will call Bruce and Emma, ​​friends of Natalie in Albuquerque.

I also check what I should see in Portland, but it turns out to be many parks and there is not really weather for it today. In addition, there are a lot of churches and holy places and there is nothing for a religious allergist like me.

My father's 92-year-old cousin Burt answers immediately and we decide I’ll go to the suburb where he lives as soon as possible and then we will have lunch together. Emma, ​​I can also get hold on and she invites me for dinner tonight.

Burt really does not look like being 92 years old, but much younger. He takes me with his Toyota hybrid car to a vegetarian restaurant in the suburb where he lives and we have a nice time together. He has been widower for three years, but still finds life is worth living. He is engaged in a number of organizations that can make the world better in the future, such as Amnesty, Greenpeace and several associations working against racism and for integration.

He has been a priest a great part of his life and believes that humanism is the only way forward towards a better world.

I praise Burt for being so foresight and vigilant despite his high age. He does not want to hear that at all. He argues that foresight and vigilant rather increase naturally with a high age, to the extent that it has to do with age at ll. He acknowledges that he is forgetting a little more now than he did 70 years ago, when he was 22, but it does not mean he would like to be a conservative.

He does not even want to admit he has lost as much physical as a 92 years old man. He takes long walks every day, he likes to bike and he goes to the gym three nights a week. I think it's impressive for his age, but I avoid saying that. Instead, I speak of my own ailments and he expresses great compassion. He also realizes that he is lucky to escape so many diseases.

His wife Marilyn had suffered from many more diseases. When she was sick, Burt doubted the existence of God. It was so unfair that she who was such a wonderful, kind, happy and good person suffered much harder than many angry and evil people. He is very aware that life is not fair,

He tells me how Marilyn herself could be tired of life in recent years when she was in a wheelchair. Burt spent a lot of time the last few years to relieve her suffering. He took her on excursions to a wide range of places along the west coast. A few years ago, he went on a cooking course to delight Marilyn with better food than he ever had before. He assures that Marilyn and he in the last years came closer to each other than they had been to all the 60 years they had been married. More time together was the recipe for that.

Burt was born here in the United States only a year after his parents left Sweden because they were bankrupt. He has tried to keep in touch with the family in Sweden for years. He has been visiting my farm for several summers and worked hard every week just because he thought it was lovely.

Now it's almost ten years since he flew across the Atlantic and he has very many questions about both our family and Swedish politics. He gets very upset when I tell about the brown Sweden Democrats and even worse racists. I am thinking of how to balance the story of how the government has surrendered to both sluggish bureaucrats and Sweden Democrats and closed the borders for people who are escaping from war. Although I try to tell this in a mild way, Burt gets really upset. He has admired Swedish Social Democrats, not least Olof Palme, and could not imagine they could sink so low.

Then he tells me that it is even worse here in the United States, and he had not expected anything good from the voters in southern and central USA. The fact that they were so mad that they voted for Trump and making the United States submitted to Russia still amazes him. Next presidential election he is 96 if he is still alive and he will invest as much time as he can convince his friends to choose a democratic president. Like many others, he is convinced that Donald Trump's voters will be very disappointed when they discover that the closed borders to the outside world will worsen the US economy.

When I see Burt eating and talking, I find that he seems so incredibly alert both physically and mentally. I am ashamed of it, but for many years I have been annoyed by old people who are so slow in everything they do. When I am going to pay in a shop, I choose the line with the least proportion of old people. One of my horror scenarios for old age is that I'll be like them. That I'm going to fumble with cash or be extremely slow when I pay by card. Even though, as a retiree, I have plenty of time, I do not want to be an obstacle to those who are behind.

This does not seem to be the case with Burt and I cannot help asking him about it. He has thought similarly and joked about his lack of tolerance against slow old fellow human beings. Concentration is his prescription to not be slow.

Burt looks at the clock and finds out that he is late for a meeting on how local democracy can be improved here in the suburb. I ask quickly if he has not discovered the benefits of Facebook yet and he has not. Of course, he has both computer and internet at home and I spend a few minutes argue that he will get an account so we can have a closer contact. I think I have a lot to learn from Burt. He promises to consider it.

I have met with Natalie's friend Emma at a Peruvian restaurant called Andina for an early dinner. Emma is a cheerful 60-year-old, college teacher, but tired of her job and ready to retire any day if she could afford that. She is aware that afford is a flexible concept, but she is fond of going to a restaurant and eating food from all over the world and that becomes more expensive than cooking yourself. She hardly travels outside the state border because she thinks Oregon has it all, beaches for swimming, high mountains for skiing and culture in the big city.

Emma surprised me by invoking the conversation on politics and acknowledging that she voted for Donald Trump. She sees me being surprised and tries to explain why she voted as she did.

One reason is that Trump is not a politician. Emma has a deep mistrust of politicians who, too often, try to enrich themselves and benefit their sponsors. According to Emma, ​​politicians are liars who use the facts that best suit them at the moment. She thinks that too many politicians lack experience in doing anything but engaging in politics. She thinks that a politician who she would trust should have worked in a school, factory, hospital or other field where voters are located.

I think we who have chosen not to become politicians have difficulty criticizing politicians as a group before we commit ourselves to change the politics. It is likely that there are all kinds of politicians already now, idiots and heroes. The reality is so complicated that I think it's wrong to vote for an idiot just because he's not a politician. And for sure, Trump is a politician. He spends most of his time talking politics. If anybody lies, that's Trump. The newspapers in both the United States and Sweden documented a large amount of lies from Trump after each debate. At least he is sloppy with the truth.

Emma takes up another opinion she appreciates at Donald Trump, that he does not want the United States to continue to be a world police and go around and blend in all armed conflicts everywhere.

A good country takes care of itself, Emma thinks. She also appreciates that Trump wants to close the borders for cheap goods from China and other countries.

I agree that the US should have stayed outside a number of countries, where they brought war in the last 60-70 years. On the other hand, I think that closed borders are a big mistake that will be expensive for the American people. It reminds me of the Soviet Union with the Iron Curtain and its monumental failure. Nor can I be surprised that Trump is about to make the United States a vassal state under Russia without asking the people in the United States.

Emma and I can talk about Trump with such different perceptions without getting angry with each other, but now we are lagging in aging as by chance. Trump is a grumpy old man, mildly expressed.

Without any real reason, we ask each other how old we are. Emma is wondering if I do not get very tired, considering my age, of travelling around the world as I do. I tell her that I am much more tired when I'm home and have nothing special to do than when I work in the woods or travel around in remote countries.

I once again run my quote from Neil Young: "It's better to burn out than two fade away."

Emma does not agree. She thinks it's good to keep up with her resources in all respects. If you have grandchildren, I think they would appreciate you living a bit longer so you can tell important things that you have learned during your long life, she says.

She undoubtedly has one point, I admit. But I'm not quite sure I'd live longer just because I'm taking it easy. I do not know if there are any scientific studies that support that one way or another to live would lead to a longer life. Additionally, I might prefer that my grandchildren remember me as a rather old but vital and happy old man than an ancient and confused relative who did not have any energy left for them.

An advantage of being old enough is that we can have a more relaxed attitude in relation to each other, says Emma. If you and I had met like this 30 years ago, I can admit that during the whole meal I had thought about how to get a smart and resilient man as you in bed later tonight. Now I realize it's futile to try to bring me an old prostate home.

I spontaneously laugh when she says so. Then a sad feeling takes over and I feel more like crying. How did she know that I have problems with the prostate? I have not told her that. Does it smell or shows in any other way?

I decide to immediately request the check.

When it comes, we both want to pay. Emma claims Americans are hosts and I'm a guest here in the United States. I try to argue that, as a forest owner, I'm probably richer than she. We laugh at each other and ourselves and agree to share the cost. We also agree to continue our discussions on Facebook.

The following morning I wake up in the middle of a dream about prostate problems. I decide to have breakfast at Starbucks with Natalie's friend Bruce. My ambition is to return to thinking more than discussing at least for a while.

Both Bruce and I have chosen the same breakfast – a small cup of coffee, a bottle of organic juice and cranberry scones.

Bruce turns out to be a young man, hardly a day over 40. He has just resigned from an IT company to work with a friend to start his own consulting company. So he is curious about the IT market in Sweden. He has heard that we are at the forefront of an international comparison. I tell him what I know of the Swedish forest industry's efficiency of the entire production chain from planting to sales of refined products and the Swedish public's internet addiction.

Bruce tells me that he and his friend are going to specialize their business on applications that help both companies and individuals optimize their environmental concerns. He believes that carbon dioxide emissions can be drastically reduced with his and her friend's ideas. I think he has good ideas, but maybe not unique. I show him that I already have a Swedish app on the phone that helps me to live a bit greener.

When breakfast is up, Bruce has to go to a meeting in a suburb. He has his Tesla outside and offers me a ride where I'm going. I do not have a good plan for the day, but  I would really like to try the big cable car, so Bruce takes me there.

Then I spend the day crossing across Portland, which turns out to be a really nice city.

In the evening when I'm going to sleep, I'm thinking of the last time I met my daddy was in a dementia home. His world had shrunk through his fast-paced dementia. At the same time, the world had grown by sitting in the dayroom daydreaming.

He told us the most amazing stories as if they were real. One day he could do hard work on a foundry at Lake Mälaren. The next day he could lay on a beach in Tenerife. The third day he could walk around the back streets of London.

Sometimes he realized that what he told us was not reality and could laugh at what he was telling. Other times he get really angry if someone did not believe in his stories.

He was just bored for much of his time. He also suffered from watching the other elders eat their food with really bad manner as if the were children.

My dad was 95 years old when he came to the home for old people with dementia and lived just over a year there. Then he decided to make it enough and refuse to eat and drink. A week later he was dead.

I really do not feel tempted to live for so long that I end up in a home for old people. Although my experience from dad's last year was that the staff was wonderfully caring and friendly. I would like to be active the rest of my life. Yes, there are nice activities also in the retirement homes. There is noting wrong with them. I'm too much individualist to fit in there.

So I'll probably refuse to eat and drink the last two weeks before I end up in a home for old people.

Now I decide I'm done with Portland for now. Since I've been thinking so much of death here, I imagine I'll be much happier if I change the environment.

I am looking at Amtrak's website and realize that it takes only four hours by train to Seattle. In addition, the fog is quite tight. I decide to take a train at lunchtime. To get a little change I book a room in Seattle by a motel chain called Travelodge.

When everything practical is attended to, I sleep well through the night.

The next morning everything seems strange. I've dreamed that I participated in some kind of triathlon competition where it was about swimming 95 miles along the coast, then biking 120 miles to Seattle and then climbing Mount Rainier.

It is strange that I dream something like that. Swimming in cold water is not really something I ever do.

From Kurt Andersson's Facebook 

Angela Williams, San Francisco

Today I am at home, stuck in bed with the flu. The temperature is rising and I am feeling really bad, almost like a man.

Mary Jackson, Dallas

Hi Kurt! I read at you Facebook that you are going north. How is life in California or Oregon, or wherever you are? When are you going back to Sweden? Do you think there would be possible for me to get a job in Sweden next summer? I have been reading a lot about Sweden and I am getting more and more interested.

Mia Turner, New Orleans

Last week a famous movie star visited my bar. Earlier today he came back. I am so proud that he is choosing my bar!

Sonny Smith, Memphis

Now it is official that The Blues Siblings has signed up for one of the major record labels in the US and that we will start recording our first album within a month.

Facts about Portland

• Portland is the largest city in the state of Oregon.

• Portland had 609 456 inhabitants in 2013.

• The University of Portland has approximately 4,000 students. Portland State University has approximately 28,000 students.

• Portland is considered to be the greenest city in the United States, due, inter alia, to a well-developed public transport, including a large cable car.

• Portland is a big port city. There is also a significant IT industry.

Read more at www.portland.com