I'm praying for a full recovery.

I think my country is sick. Very sick. And we need to bring her back to good health again. She needs special treatment. Tender loving care. And big fixes. New, innovative treatments. But I'm not sure that she's gonna pull through. Because many Americans won't even admit that she's sick. Dreadfully ill, in fact. The old gal isn't what she used to be. Some of us even think she's got an incurable illness. Something equivalent to the bubonic plague. So contagious that some of her citizens are living in foreign countries, and even renouncing their citizenship. There was an article in today's New York Times about that. Surprised me a little bit. Because I haven't reached that point yet. I still feel some degree of allegiance. Albeit, I think of myself as a world citizen. With close sentimental ties to the USA. I'd like to see the old lady survive. To be cured. To become healthy and vibrant again. But she's lost the old pizazz. The old spark. She used to be the greatest lady in the world. She used to be principled. But now she's crotchety. And unprincipled. Guess that's what sickness does to one. Almost makes you feel like you don't wanna live any more. Maybe if we had a good health care system we could pull the old lady through. But it's shoddy. And I'm not even sure if America qualifies for first class treatment. After all, I suspect that she needs a heart transplant. The old heart is giving out. Used to be that she had the softest and kindest heart one could imagine. But now it's become cruel. And cold. And indifferent. She doesn't even welcome immigrants any more. The very thing that could maybe revive the old lady. Perish the thought. But I won't be surprised if I'm reading her obituary soon. Oh, gawd. I hope not. But I feel compelled to face the facts. The awful truth. She's just barely holding on. I sense this is a death vigil. But hey, I still believe in miracles. I haven't yet lost faith. I'm praying for a full recovery. Over the seemingly impossible odds. --Jim Broede