Hopefully, I'll receive an early morning time. Then I'll be certain my surgeon-friend is fresh and prepared to do his very best work. Last time he did my knee FIRST. One result is that this present artificial knee has performed very well. I've made no excuses for it, have used it fully every day and worn it out. I'm a yogaphile, do vigorous weight-training, and walk long distances at a brisk pace three or four days a week. There are also two long stairways in my home. This daily regimen of exercise is a life-long habit beginning in my early teens. By long habit, I accept no excuses from my body. I make demands.
I've been making such demands of my body for most of sixty years. So, over the past decade, I've been pretty tough on this current artificial knee. It appears the new one will be a much-improved model, more sturdy, new metals, new type of plastic, with a much-longer spike that will seat more securely in my lower limb. One of the problems I'm currently experiencing is that the lower section of my current device works loose. Not convenient or comfortable. In fact, it hurts like crazy. I haven't really enjoyed my exercise regimen over the past few months. But I do it anyway.
Good habits die hard. . .even when those habits cause difficulty and pain.
I also expect a call soon scheduling a heart catherization. My recent stress test, the one that features two-three hundred pictures of my heart -- before and after stress -- apparently indicates I need some further exploration of the major arteries in my heart.
All this new exploratory and surgical stuff gives me the impression I may at last be falling apart. I don't like that feeling. Of course, I'm seventy-five years old. But I just saw my doctor this morning, and she didn't mention having requested a heart catherization for me. But then: could be I was looking at her instead of listening to her.
Seventy-five, and still not grown up!?
The thing I may've confused is her revelation that she is worried about the results of my recent stress test results. No doubt she wants my heart in good shape before she releases me for the knee surgery I would much prefer to have done first. Thing is, my heart isn't bothering me on my long walks and during yoga and weight training. But my knee IS bothering me. Still, I'm fairly certain that my new doctor will say to me: "First things first!"
Trouble is, I'm accustomed to having my own way with such choices.
Still, I imagine that with aging will come some changes in decisions like this. My new doctor took over and has requested a whole raft of exploratory tests. . .one or more each week for a number of weeks. She's attempting to establish a new baseline from which she can determine the true condition of my health. The heart cath is just one more such test. Another aspect of aging, I suppose, is that the results of some of these tests may require further and more challenging tests. Maybe even some necessary repairs. That certainly makes sense.
But so far in my life, that hasn't happened before, either because my old doctor was less interested, or my systems were more solid. Hard to determine which is closer to the truth. Could be a little bit of both. Could it be I'm aging at last, a process which is difficult for me to accept, or even sense accurately. . .perhaps because it's so gradual a process. I've always been a vigorous athlete. By habit I make demands on my body. Could be my present age and circumstance will demand some changes in my attitude. We'll have to see. I wonder: can I adjust to sensible limits?
In any case, I'm unaccustomed to discovering troublesome aspects about my health.
This has been an interesting and difficult decade. First, my beloved wife died. That entire process was difficult enough. Just as important, because of our closeness, I've found it difficult to adjust fully. Nancy was the sturdy keystone in the broad arch of my life. My best friend. My closest and most-trusted companion. We faced everything together with solid confidence. I still find it difficult to accept her death. She's so present to me, so alive to me. . .so essential to my sense of purpose, to the importance I ascribe to my life. As much as I loved my work, only recently have I realized that all these years, the real central purpose of my life has been to love Nancy.
All those wonderful years filled with purposeful work and Nancy. Presently, no work to do. Nancy gone. No one to love.
Leaves me feeling lost and empty.
And now, I'm apparently entering the final phases of my life. Will it be a period of painful and humiliating system breakdowns? A period of illnesses that I will have to face alone? I hope not. How will I find the stamina and courage to struggle alone through what may be so sorry an end to what has been a wonderful shared life?
I'll soon have some choices to make.
I'm not certain I want such a life.
I'm not certain I want such a life.
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