THE OLD MAN, AND THE WORLD HE LEFT BEHIND

By Sidney Owitz

Even though we are all different, we are also the same. We share DNA, we require much of the same food, we need the same things in order to live (like oxygen and warmth), or else we die. This does not only apply to human beings. It also applies to birds, animals and fish, with some exceptions. We and the birds and animals, insects and fish have similar habits. We all migrate to different places at different stages in our lives. We love each other, and we fight with each other. Our friends become our enemies, and our enemies become our friends. Our lives are affected by different weather conditions and natural phenomena, such as earth-quakes, volcanic eruptions, hurricanes and lightning. Humans require what the ants need, and the bumble bees demand what the elephant is searching for. Many of us, who can think or cannot think, have discovered a creator and a life after death, while some have found a death after life. We have been promised by some good friends that there is somebody taking care of us to make sure that we will be comfortable and wealthy, while others wonder why six million innocent lives were taken during the Holocaust.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Dec 17, 2025
• ISBN: 9798823059428

Sidney Owitz

Sidney Owitz was born in Johannesburg, South Africa, where he was educated. He graduated as a physician, at the University of Cape Town. After practicing Medicine in South Africa for twelve years he came to the United States and became an anesthesiologist. He lives in Florida with his family.

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© 2025 Sidney Owitz. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 12/15/2025

ISBN: 979-8-8230-5941-1 (sc)

ISBN: 979-8-8230-5942-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2025926244

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to my dear wife Joan, and our children, Stephanie, Valerie, David, Carole, Jeff, and to Darron and Robin, in memoriam.

CONTENTS

Prologue

What Happened?

Migration

Sea-Living Creatures

Friends Of The Enemy

From Confucius To Pope Leo Xiv

Where Did Our Family Come From?

About the Author

PROLOGUE

Even though we are all different, we are also the same. We share DNA, we require much of the same food, we need the same things in order to live (like oxygen and warmth), or else we die. This does not only apply to human beings. It also applies to birds, animals and fish. We and the birds and animals, insects and fish have similar habits. We all migrate to different places at different stages in our lives. We love each other, and we fight with each other. Our friends become our enemies, and our enemies become our friends. Our lives are affected by different weather conditions and natural phenomena, such as earth-quakes, volcanic eruptions, hurricanes and lightning. Humans require what the ants need, and the bumble bees demand what the elephant is searching for. Many of us, who can think or cannot think, have discovered a creator and a life after death, while some have found a death after life. We have been promised by some good friends that there is somebody taking care of us to make sure that we will be comfortable and wealthy, while others wonder why six million innocent lives were taken during the Holocaust.

WHAT HAPPENED?

All is well, until something happens. What happened? It is difficult to understand what or how it happened, but in one moment, one’s entire life may change, never to return to its previous state. My son Darron called from his apartment one evening to say that he had a head-ache. I asked if he had some pain-killer in his apartment for a head-ache. He said that he did not. I asked him to drive to my house to pick up some pills for a headache. He lived a mere five miles away, but he said that he was not really fit to drive. I said that I would drive to him and bring him some pills. Wait for me outside your apartment building. I am leaving now, and I do not wish to get out of the car when I reach your place I remarked.

When I arrived at his apartment, he was standing outside his building waiting for me. Through the open car window, I handed him his pills, but I noticed that his belly appeared remarkably distended. Upon questioning, he appeared unaware of its presence. He was, generally speaking, a healthy, young man. I suggested to him that I would take him to the walk-in clinic, but he said that he would rather go in the morning, or perhaps, go to his own doctor. For me, this was the beginning of a life change. Since then, nothing has been the same. Such was the commencement of a tragedy which has not yet been completed.

Apparently, the following morning he was unable to walk or get to his car, and with help, an ambulance was called. He was taken to the hospital, where pneumonia and heart failure, with fluid in his lung, were diagnosed. He was placed in the Cardiac Intensive Care unit. Upon hearing this news, I immediately went to visit him in the Cardiac ICU, and found him to be short of breath with low oxygen saturations. He remained in the Cardiac ICU for about three weeks. He was also diagnosed as having MERSA, a hospital-borne staphylococcus, resistant to most antibiotics and difficult to treat. It was considered to be one of the most dangerous organisms to man. Darron never left hospital. One night, when we thought that he was improving, the nurse found him in bed, unconscious and not breathing. After many bouts of cardio-pulmonary resuscitation, he was declared to be dead. My family and I would never see or speak to Darron again, or ever see his wonderful smile. We have all missed him very much, and have found it hard to believe what had occurred.

To lose a son who had always been healthy, so early in his life, is indeed tragic, especially when it was so unexpected. That was not the end of the story because one afternoon, shortly thereafter, while playing bridge at a friend’s house, I suddenly felt hot, nauseated and awful, forcing me, for the first time ever, to announce at the bridge table that I was sorry, but I was feeling very strange and unable to complete playing the game. We disassembled the game and returned to our homes.

When I proceeded to the walk-in clinic, I was notified by the doctor that I had pneumonia, a myocardial infarction with heart failure and fluid in the left lung – not unlike what Darron had recently experienced. I was admitted to the Cardiac Intensive Care unit at a nearby hospital, where I was later told that I, too, had MERSA. I was also informed that my left lung was almost completely obliterated by disease. A tube was inserted into my left chest in order to drain the fluid from the lung, and it was left there for a few days. Atrial fibrillation was one other problem that I was told that I had been suffering from, but I should not worry. I was given an anti- coagulant in order to prevent any clotting problem, such as a heart attack or stroke, from occurring. After a period of two to three weeks, I was finally discharged from hospital, and allowed to receive treatment at home.

Of course, being home, does not mean that all the problems are over, because the anti-coagulant treatment made my blood too thin, and my urine resembled a specimen of pure blood, as though the urine had been removed from my aorta. This situation improved, only on stopping the use of the anti-coagulant, but leaving me with anemia and unprotected against a stroke or another heart attack. As Swinburne, a nineteenth century British poet wrote, No life lives forever, Dead men rise up never, And even the weariest river, Winds somewhere safe to sea.

We are talking about a ninety-nine-year-old man, who, after being discharged from hospital, started bleeding through his urine, because of the anti-coagulant he was taking in order to protect him from a stroke or heart attack. We are talking about me. Remember, I had always been considered a strong and healthy person, who had been playing tennis until about three months prior to this incident. Matters improved somewhat when a weaker anti-coagulant was employed to replace the original one.

Anyhow, this was the first time that I could remember being so sick in the last ninety-nine years. I came out of this, feeling weak in my legs and imbalanced when walking, as though I was inco-ordinated and liable to easily fall. At this age, was I able ever to get any stronger or get back, at least, to where I had been before I had become ill? Or, was I on my way out of this life? Most people do not live to my age. I knew more dead people than alive ones. We had fewer friends than in the past, and most of our friends were more disabled than both my wife and I were, either in the form of chronic organic illnesses or in the form of mobility problems.

My urinary bleeding re-started, and became worse, continuing for six more weeks, despite medical assistance. It appeared more like it was coming out of my vascular system rather than my urinary system. I ended up with a bacterial urinary infection and a fairly severe anemia for which I was prescribed intravenous iron injections for five weeks.

At this stage, I was actually becoming less interested in life. Movies meant little to me, so I rarely watched them. Bridge and other forms of