Letter to a Friend – who’s thinking about quitting
So I get up this morning feeling o.k. It’s the first day back at work after dental surgery. A week ago, I’d gone to the hospital’s Same Day Surgery unit to have a couple of cyst removed along with an impacted wisdom tooth. One of the cyst was logged along the jaw bone – the mandible on the lower right side – making it a bit more complicated to take out. They really did a number on my inner jaw – lot of cutting and a lot of stitches. Luckily for me, the nerve that runs through the mandible bone was not severed. So the dental surgeon explained that the numbness I’m feeling in my lower lip, stretching down through my front bottom teeth, will eventually go away.
Lucky too, that my jaw didn’t have to be broken to remove the adjacent cyst. They did scrape the bone, however. And they did say that now, with the extraction, there isn’t any bone support in that area of the jaw, and until I totally heal – about 3 or 4 months – I have to be real careful not to get hit on that side of my mouth – or I’ll likely break the bone. Dodged another one, I suppose – so far.
Nevertheless, about mid day on this first day back at work, I’m starting to feel bad. I have a Stomach-ache, of all things. I don’t have the flu. Maybe a bit of a coughing cold, but nothing more, they say, probably from coming down off all the meds associated with the surgery. Something, they say, about a reduced resistance….But, the pain in my gut, actually seemed to emanate from my lower back. I had a heck of a time sitting in the car on the drive home from work. I’m wondering: “What’s this about? What now! Feels like old age. If it’s not one thing, it’s another.” Anyway the pain was discomforting enough to send me home to bed at 4:00 p.m.
By 5:30 I felt like shit! Gut wrenching pain made sleep a hopeless wish! Couldn’t even lay down. There was now way to get away from the pain. There’s no position I could get into. Basically there was no relief from the pain. I resorted to waiting it out in the bathroom – hoping upon hope to just explode – out of one end or the other – or both – for no other reason than to get this whole ordeal over with. But nothing!! Just Pain.
Time crawls. The pink stuff we take for stomach disorders doesn’t help. Alkalines make me burp. But the pain persists on. I’m looking at my belly like it’s a gut about to burst. But nothing. So, I start thinking, flash back like, about my dental surgery. I’m remembering how much I really didn’t like looking up at that big light they position over you when you laying on the table in the OR – operating room. It was déjà vu. I could clearly remember the OR from the stroke. I remembered thinking about the fragility of life. Unpleasant reminders. Too many – and here I was again – feeling fragile. And on my first day back to my life again – I’m feeling about as miserable as possible – once again.
I even tried to do a few sit ups on the Ab Roller I keep next to my bed. The action of doing sit ups tends to move along my “regularity,” so to speak. I figured that it was worth a try. I normally do about 400 sit ups in the morning before I go to the bathroom. This night I couldn’t do 20 without stopping. “Whoa!,” I’m thinking: “How Bad Is That!?”
There’s nothing like extraordinary times to bring out extra ordinary expressions in us. Good or bad, ready or not, life happens. So, anyway, in this quagmire of my own misery, trudging from the bathroom to the bedroom, and getting no relief in either place, my mind wanders off to recall an email conversation with my friend, and his dilemma. He’s my age, and has his own tales to tell of the ravages of time playing on his once athletic and determined self. I felt compassion for his circumstances, even though just hours ago I’d admonished him for thinking that way.
He is, after all an accomplished person in his own right, and a senior Black Belt, who in addition is a former karate champion under my tutelage. But he’s thinking about packing it in. Considering his run of ill fortune in the physicality area – over the past year…regardless of the fact that it isn’t attributable to his martial arts training, I can understand.
Hard to argue with this logic: "I severed an Achilles tendon and a tore my right arm lower bicep muscle from the bone," he wrote. "I had major surgery to remove a deteriorated joint in my foot and need to consider doing the other foot. I am not listing these physical problems as “poor me” but to be reflective that I want a year with no major physical breakdowns."
Anyway, that is where my mind wandered off to, while “hanging on” in the bathroom. That in turn reminded me of an early morning news report recently on the number of baby boomer generation - athletes who’re showing up in medical offices with “issues” related to the aging of the athletes. The M.D. in the news report called it: “Boomeritus,” as essentially a condition of athletes still trying to “get it done,” when they are perhaps just a bit past their prime. Parts do wear out.
Hey, life happens. I am sustained by the good advice of my Pop – who’ll be 80 in a few years – who as a senior athlete told me to do what ever I need to do to keep my stuff together --- (which ain’t exactly what he said, but it’s close enough.) This was his response when I lamented about the series of dental and eye, and urologic, issues I was having within a few years of my bout with a major stroke.
It does seem like I’m going to more doctors than ever before. And, I am still amazed at how long it is on the journey back from stroke. It’s just getting to where I can go upstairs – fast – without holding on! Amazing as it is - how long it is on the road back. yet I will admit to being grateful for having had such a great run, as a top class athlete, that reached into my 5th decade of life…. But, life happens, inevitably, and so does getting older.
So, in the midst of this day dream, the thought comes to me to take a couple of the penicillin pills the doc’s gave me to fend off infection, following the surgery. What do you know – by 7:30 -- I am in slumber-land.
I awoke in the middle of the night – and whipped out the lap top to capture this moment. Curious it is, how being “pain free” can be so peaceful. It’s a blessing. It also makes one appreciate the simple joy of being alive.
So, why am I sitting up with the rising sun to write this. The best I can think is to say to my friend: Hey friend – I understand.
So I get up this morning feeling o.k. It’s the first day back at work after dental surgery. A week ago, I’d gone to the hospital’s Same Day Surgery unit to have a couple of cyst removed along with an impacted wisdom tooth. One of the cyst was logged along the jaw bone – the mandible on the lower right side – making it a bit more complicated to take out. They really did a number on my inner jaw – lot of cutting and a lot of stitches. Luckily for me, the nerve that runs through the mandible bone was not severed. So the dental surgeon explained that the numbness I’m feeling in my lower lip, stretching down through my front bottom teeth, will eventually go away.
Lucky too, that my jaw didn’t have to be broken to remove the adjacent cyst. They did scrape the bone, however. And they did say that now, with the extraction, there isn’t any bone support in that area of the jaw, and until I totally heal – about 3 or 4 months – I have to be real careful not to get hit on that side of my mouth – or I’ll likely break the bone. Dodged another one, I suppose – so far.
Nevertheless, about mid day on this first day back at work, I’m starting to feel bad. I have a Stomach-ache, of all things. I don’t have the flu. Maybe a bit of a coughing cold, but nothing more, they say, probably from coming down off all the meds associated with the surgery. Something, they say, about a reduced resistance….But, the pain in my gut, actually seemed to emanate from my lower back. I had a heck of a time sitting in the car on the drive home from work. I’m wondering: “What’s this about? What now! Feels like old age. If it’s not one thing, it’s another.” Anyway the pain was discomforting enough to send me home to bed at 4:00 p.m.
By 5:30 I felt like shit! Gut wrenching pain made sleep a hopeless wish! Couldn’t even lay down. There was now way to get away from the pain. There’s no position I could get into. Basically there was no relief from the pain. I resorted to waiting it out in the bathroom – hoping upon hope to just explode – out of one end or the other – or both – for no other reason than to get this whole ordeal over with. But nothing!! Just Pain.
Time crawls. The pink stuff we take for stomach disorders doesn’t help. Alkalines make me burp. But the pain persists on. I’m looking at my belly like it’s a gut about to burst. But nothing. So, I start thinking, flash back like, about my dental surgery. I’m remembering how much I really didn’t like looking up at that big light they position over you when you laying on the table in the OR – operating room. It was déjà vu. I could clearly remember the OR from the stroke. I remembered thinking about the fragility of life. Unpleasant reminders. Too many – and here I was again – feeling fragile. And on my first day back to my life again – I’m feeling about as miserable as possible – once again.
I even tried to do a few sit ups on the Ab Roller I keep next to my bed. The action of doing sit ups tends to move along my “regularity,” so to speak. I figured that it was worth a try. I normally do about 400 sit ups in the morning before I go to the bathroom. This night I couldn’t do 20 without stopping. “Whoa!,” I’m thinking: “How Bad Is That!?”
There’s nothing like extraordinary times to bring out extra ordinary expressions in us. Good or bad, ready or not, life happens. So, anyway, in this quagmire of my own misery, trudging from the bathroom to the bedroom, and getting no relief in either place, my mind wanders off to recall an email conversation with my friend, and his dilemma. He’s my age, and has his own tales to tell of the ravages of time playing on his once athletic and determined self. I felt compassion for his circumstances, even though just hours ago I’d admonished him for thinking that way.
He is, after all an accomplished person in his own right, and a senior Black Belt, who in addition is a former karate champion under my tutelage. But he’s thinking about packing it in. Considering his run of ill fortune in the physicality area – over the past year…regardless of the fact that it isn’t attributable to his martial arts training, I can understand.
Hard to argue with this logic: "I severed an Achilles tendon and a tore my right arm lower bicep muscle from the bone," he wrote. "I had major surgery to remove a deteriorated joint in my foot and need to consider doing the other foot. I am not listing these physical problems as “poor me” but to be reflective that I want a year with no major physical breakdowns."
Anyway, that is where my mind wandered off to, while “hanging on” in the bathroom. That in turn reminded me of an early morning news report recently on the number of baby boomer generation - athletes who’re showing up in medical offices with “issues” related to the aging of the athletes. The M.D. in the news report called it: “Boomeritus,” as essentially a condition of athletes still trying to “get it done,” when they are perhaps just a bit past their prime. Parts do wear out.
Hey, life happens. I am sustained by the good advice of my Pop – who’ll be 80 in a few years – who as a senior athlete told me to do what ever I need to do to keep my stuff together --- (which ain’t exactly what he said, but it’s close enough.) This was his response when I lamented about the series of dental and eye, and urologic, issues I was having within a few years of my bout with a major stroke.
It does seem like I’m going to more doctors than ever before. And, I am still amazed at how long it is on the journey back from stroke. It’s just getting to where I can go upstairs – fast – without holding on! Amazing as it is - how long it is on the road back. yet I will admit to being grateful for having had such a great run, as a top class athlete, that reached into my 5th decade of life…. But, life happens, inevitably, and so does getting older.
So, in the midst of this day dream, the thought comes to me to take a couple of the penicillin pills the doc’s gave me to fend off infection, following the surgery. What do you know – by 7:30 -- I am in slumber-land.
I awoke in the middle of the night – and whipped out the lap top to capture this moment. Curious it is, how being “pain free” can be so peaceful. It’s a blessing. It also makes one appreciate the simple joy of being alive.
So, why am I sitting up with the rising sun to write this. The best I can think is to say to my friend: Hey friend – I understand.
Labels: Pre Dawn Predilictions
posted by Sensei Alan Simms at
8:32 AM
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