My weird wishes in old age
There are times when I’m thankful I’m heading for the Methuselahian years, especially when witnessing what government is doing to our beloved country and my old brain telling me, “enough is enough”.
But at other times, I hanker after another go at youth – no, not necessarily for romantic exploits (then again, not a bad idea to show my Heidi there’s still life in these bones), but to enjoy the technological and scientific advances already in the pipeline.
On paper, these appear a pipe dream, but so was a man on the moon, heart transplant, artery replacement, etc. I’m living proof of the latter, thanks to a heart surgeon dedicated to saving lives.
What triggered the wish to be a youngster today was an article in Time magazine sketching a scenario in an average future home.
I quote: “It’s 6 am, and the alarm clock is buzzing earlier than usual. It’s not a malfunction: the smart clock scanned your schedule and adjusted because you’ve got that big presentation first thing in the morning. Your shower automatically turns on and warms your preferred heat.
“The electric car is ready to go, charged by the solar panels or wind turbine on the roof. When you get home later, there’s an unexpected package waiting, delivered by drone. You open it to find flu medicine. Turns out health sensors in your bathroom detected signs of an impending illness and placed an order automatically.”
No need to take a cough to a doctor. The downside is the GPs would lose out, but they could use the time for researching new techniques in combating more serious afflictions.
My doc has already done so. He spent some time in Japan learning how to spear bodies suffering arthritis and other muscular aches. He would also hold his own against champion dart players in the UK – and win hands down.
And it won’t surprise me if my heart surgeon (who religiously attends conferences in Switzerland and America to learn new techniques) comes back with more magic ways and means benefitting a new generation.
In the meantime, I’ll have to be happy with dated replacement body parts – and suffer far from perspicacious politicians. But just maybe they’ll be replaced with artificial intelligence someday.
Surely, robots can’t do worse.