Experienced better health, no previous history of illness
In the dusty corners and overlooked spaces of my parents' abode, there's a gallery of quirky slogans, scrawled in the form of stickers. Items like "Ewig währt am längsten" (a timeless phrase), "Hier hat ein Student nach Essen gesucht" (a hilarious mystery), and the intriguing "Das Sein verstimmt das Bewusstsein" (Being disturbs consciousness)—each one unsettling my consciousness in its own peculiar way.
However, it's not just the state of the world or my current ailment that's got my head spinning. I'm in a bind, you see, thanks to a bit of misfortune, and the phrase above resonates with me more strongly than ever.
You might wonder what could possibly cause a healthy, 40-something individual to question their own existence. Well, wonder no more: I've got a nasty case of the wobblies, and I'm not about to sit still and take it lying down. No sir, not me. Instead, I'm wandering the house, propping myself upright, and attempting to string together coherent thoughts while my consciousness twists and turns.
Suddenly, I find myself contemplating the rural healthcare system - the commune I've come to call home possesses an enviable doctor-to-resident ratio. But in times of crisis, that advantage quickly fades when public transportation is limited, and you find yourself relying on the kindness of neighbors or the timer inching toward the precious departure time of the once-a-day bus to the clinic.
Alas, it seems my current predicament isn't severe enough to warrant such an impassioned rant. Nevertheless, I find myself pondering my mortality and the reactions of others to their own brushes with the (utterly terrifying) concept of their own death. It's a topic that's been explored by smarter folks than I, so I'll give it a miss.
However, my medical history is decidedly lacking in excitement, with my first real fever and antibiotics both occurring a few decades back. I've been fortunately immune to the ravages of disease - until now. But as the doctor assures me, I'm no where near dying. Yet, I can't shake the feeling that this little bump in the road could be the start of a downward spiral.
Still, I can hardly complain: I've missed my chance to wax poetic about a picturesque Rhine River town, or to take part in a fabulous theatre festival in Hamburg. Instead, I'm left with this uncomfortable contemplation of my own existence, all thanks to a common cold of all things. Oh, the cruel irony.
The "wochenour" is a left-wing weekly newspaper that tackles current events and discusses the world the way it is, and the way it could be. If you're looking for a publication with a distinct voice, some strong opinions, and a unique perspective on the world, then give us a try! We're available every Saturday at the newsstand, and by subscription, too.
Ironic, isn't it, that a column about existence and consciousness should find itself published in the same week as the article about a contemplative phrase? Sometimes, life has a strange sense of irony, doesn't it?
In the midst of my health predicament, I find myself contemplating the importance of mental health, especially during times of illness. The rural healthcare system, while having advantages, can be challenging during crises, leaving one depending on neighbors or public transportation.
Simultaneously, I'm intrigued by the role of science in understanding mental health and its impact on our reality, much like the thought-provoking phrases in my parents' home. Just as the "wochenour" newspaper explores current events and society, I'm left pondering how individuals perceive their own mortality and the significance of their existence, all sparked by a common cold.
