Porn Willi's wild desire for life 

When a friend told me this story about Porn-Willi, I laughed out loud, greatly relieved for a moment. But I was also very upset that no one seems to see the world as he does anymore, maybe we are not even allowed to do so, and somehow well-educated people seem to be more affected. Immediately I thought about drafting a law, which would promote a view beyond the pure number mechanics that are ruling science and politics right down to health and "life". But, of course, I failed to do so - as usual - ran out of steam, and decided to simply tell this story. No, not neatly scientifically recorded facts, cleaned up for statistics, but simply a story. And even Porn-Willi would tell it differently again.

So: Porn-Willi has trouble walking, standing and breathing. He is 75 years old and has loved women and his freedom since childhood. The latter almost a bit more, which may be hard to believe. But probably many can sympathise.

One day he feels a touch of a tickling in his throat, which alarms his dear wife Jeany, because a terrible killer virus (survival rate 99% in Porn-Willi's age group) is just doing its rounds. A test the good man does not resist and a positive result he is used to, although it had not been him who had to make the pregnancy tests all those times, but the other sex so desired and hunted by him, in each case different in color, language, age or country.

When the tickling in his throat became a slight scratching and the positive test could not be ignored anymore, Jeany decided to have her beloved Porn-Willi hospitalized. He now belonged to the so-called risk group, an invention of a resourceful marketing department of the health or disease industry. After decades of wild motorcycle rides, heavily intoxicated by a beauty in the saddle behind him and the tight grip around and under his belly, intoxicated by vodka, Campari or beer, the speedometer showing 100% more than 100km per hour, wildly racing through forests, cities and over mountain passes, surrendering to every curve (some especially passionately), often missing death or marriage by a hair's breadth... now that he moved only from the sofa to the bed and back, now only, but all the more, he was in the so-called risk group... Life indeed has its strange ways!

He was put into a two-bed room, where another former youth was already lying, who had also been classified in the said target group of the pill and scalpel industry. Order is half of life, whereas for Porn-Willi it was until now actually the joy and a mess. But order had to be now, in the form of clear positions in the bill that would follow. Because nothing is for free. Only death. And from that he had to be saved, as a solvent citizen. It started with a monster syringe in his buttocks (position 4/AZ 23), followed by a concoction that almost tasted a bit like beer (position 4/TD 2783) and a respirator (position 4/HGF 34) in which the exotic nurse seemed to have a special pleasure. Porn-Willi thought of blowing as she put the mask on him and turned two knobs, now wishing him a good night. He thought of two other knobs and positions before he fell asleep.

In the morning, his roommate complained that he couldn't sleep a wink because of the noise of the oxygen machine doing its well-paid job. Sleep and buddies! These had always been some of the holiest things for our good drinking buddy. A quick press of the finger on the patient bell (position 5/but hello) and the nurse, now prosaically called a qualified care practitioner, appeared. It was not the beautiful exotic who had accompanied him to sleep, but a pale well-fed woman who radiated authority and a vital resistance to contradiction. Porn-Willi - washed in all waters, as long as alcohol was an ingredient - said only briefly, "Take the device away, my room mate couldn't sleep with that hellish racket, and he's Catholic!" The nurse protested, "You can't do that! You're sick! That's part of the treatment!" Porn: "If my friend can't sleep here, I'll get sick! Get rid of it!"

The healthcare professional realized that there was nothing to be done and, saddened by the lost position, pushed the heavy device out of the room as Porn-Willi shouted after her, "And I'll do without that monster injection from yesterday, too!" She explained to him again that he was sick and in the all-too-familiar risk group, and that she was - frankly - very pessimistic about his future! She must emphasize the urgency of his position.

Porn-Willi knew all too well that over and over again someone was constantly looking at the black side of his life. This had been the case all his life: from his mother to his teachers up to his priest. Someone had always been warning him. But he had lived well - it seemed like a miracle to him - perhaps just because of that...

Two days later he was discharged from the hospital. He was simply no good for something like that..."

PS: Porn-Willi will hardly appear in the statistics. How should he be recorded? Not only the disease and treatment positions do not quite fit, also his history does not fit into the grid. Just as little as a will to live or even a zest for life can find its way in the numerical records of a "scientific" health or disease status. It can neither be prescribed nor treated. It is simply not measurable. Nevertheless it has an effect.