This is a new pain. Very different from other times. It may be nothing. I’ve had three cancers that came to nothing. Oh yeah, I wear a urine collecting bag, but that works out to be very handy. I don’t need to get up at night like I used to — hourly!
The other day I fell on slick snow and landed on my right shoulder. For several days it has been sore. Ice blue cream has helped. Ibuprofen has helped, now that seems okay. But this thing. Should I schedule an appointment with Dr. Crum, my chiropractor? Should I check in with my new primary care doc? This is a little different. The fall and this thing don’t seem to be related — don’t know. Upper body, right shoulder and now left side of neck across the upper back, deep inside upper body. Seems different.
You know what I believe? That each day a bit of us goes down. Even when we were younger, we lost a bit at a time. Many years ago I read the popular book Passages by Gail Sheehy and started to grasp the reality that the day we are born is the day we start to die. In the younger years it is not so noticeable as we seem invincible. At some point we notice that things don’t heal as quickly as they once did and more things begin to go haywire.
Death is a bug-a-boo. Our egonomic (my new word for 2024 meaning roughly naturally egotistical) lives make death so personal, so uniquely ours. We don’t want to believe it really fits us. Sure millions have died in so many ways — quiet illnesses, tragic wars, horrific accidents, and ways we can’t imagine. Yet we have a hard time imagining our own death.
Why am I writing about death? I know, you know, death happens. This new thing — can’t help but think this might be the beginning of the end even though the end started 80 years ago. A small, dime sized, medallion hangs around my neck inscribed with Memento Mori on one side and on the other side You could leave life right now. I know that. It is Stoicism 101. So why is this new thing in my upper left side of my body on my mind?
You know what I think? I think it is a chink of death. A little opening, a little crack, into the end. Just one more thing along the way. What do I do about it? Ride with it. It is not killing me, or is it? You know what I mean, I am functional.
I think I will just appreciate my wife, our comfort, our children, our friends, our lives. Let it be — there must be a song with that title.