A well-known American, on the slope of years settled in Russia because of his beloved wife, a couple of years ago came to old friends in Peter. He was driving in the subway standing when the train hit the brakes sharply. John stumbled on a fragile girl.
I don’t know how much he weighs, but one day, the most expensive chair in our office, bought specifically for his two-meter-high powerful body with an impressive beer belly, flew underneath him. Without a hundred and a half centers there could hardly be. John regretted the St. Petersburg lady, managed to push away from the shore of the wagon and performed a free flight alone, on an extremely unsuccessful trajectory. As it turned out later, this courageous act saved his own life. However, for this, he needed to shake his leg when he fell - the infection of the blood began. Before this incident, he was distinguished by indestructible health, so he underwent a comprehensive examination in the hospital for the first time in his life. It turned out that he had a large thrombus right under his heart, ready to collapse at any time with an inevitable fatal outcome. The trombus was in a failed, almost inoperable place, requiring shunting.
Peter's friends-medics in a few days raised the ears of the entire familiar world scientific community in this field. They targeted dozens of the best clinics. Moscow, Petro and Novosibirsk dropped in the first casting. Long held by the United States, in the final Seoul won a difficult victory over
and Singapore.

John went there, and the operation went well. Six months later, Russian medicine, which saved his life with at least a timely diagnosis, still prevailed. As it turned out, the doctor who treated him in our city had great illusions about his English language. The statue of Seoul papers he disassembled himself. Specifically, he did not prescribe one necessary anticoagulant, so that new blood clots did not form at the site of the operation.
Thus they were formed. New trip to Seoul, new operation. John survived essentially only because of his immense savings.
All his life he rolls like a wol and earns a lot, but has the talent of zero consumption. He has a tie, as he claims, since his high school evening. By the way, in good condition. Almost nothing is eaten so that he doesn’t lose weight – I’m afraid that all the necessary calories and trace elements he got only from his favorite beer until the doctors banned him. He spent only on his wife and a young daughter, but his wife does not earn well. Its only luxury object is the bungalow.
The Bahamas did not cost him a centre. Because he handed it over until it had to be sold because of operations. In them canuli and all his savings, as well as the loans taken and everything that friends added.

Once upon a time, John came to work minute by minute in the worst meltdowns, glaciers and traffic jams – just walking out in two hours for reliability. And now it was a pity to look at him – a healthy man, he was all gray sitting on the bench at every staircase. I refused to help, I would have raised such a towel. By January this year, new medical complications began, and he had no strength at all. The American pension has also arrived. He resigned and in a dark winter morning came to say goodbye to me. Remember his last words: “I now believe in karma – you can cure one thing, the other will come out. Previously, a thriving healthy man all his life was roasted and engaged in love, raised children, and at sixty years of age - and fell from a heart attack. Instantly, painless and free of charge. He left a great legacy to the children. And for the economy, it was great – you don’t have to pay pensions. And now the tormented eighty-year-old creature goes to the grave, filled with medications and Viagra, cut off by surgeons, already hostile to himself, ears in debt. Is that what I am going to do in retirement? I want to work, but I cannot. And the pensions will soon be lost.”
This big man really looked very unhappy – all his life he used to being a support, not a burden. For some reason I felt that this was really our last meeting. The only meaning of his life now was to live longer, so that the low American pension continued to drop. The doctors explained to him how to do this - to give up beer, spin the pedals on a cyclist, swim longer, and all that.

A couple of weeks ago, I was seen by a heavily burned man without the slightest signs of a beer bubble. He looked very restful.
When I was bathed, John pleasantly asked for work again. But only for a bit. Not to lose pensions...