I saw my heart specialist for the first time in a couple of years. (PRO TIP: I’m not going to stop wearing a mask in enclosed spaces until doctors stop requiring masking for you to see them. They might know something about COVID and health and stuff.) Nothing has changed in my heart health since the last, which is a no news is good news situation. (I have developed one of those manly hernias, but the heart specialist wasn’t worried about that. Apparently, most men at some time in their lives will start carrying a baseball in their groin.)
On the one hand, I had been told at the time of my bypass that they tend to wear out within 15 to 20 years. That was 18 years ago. On the other hand, I made some changes in my life (including losing about 60 pounds), which theoretically took a lot of strain off my heart which could make another bypass operation unnecessary. We’ll see.
As I wrote on Les Pages aux Folles at the time, I wasn’t worried about the heart operation. Of course, I was in my mid-40s at the time, and now I’m in my early 60s. (Closer to death, for those of you who are reading between the lines impaired.) Has my attitude changed?
Not really. I have long been aware that at any moment a big rock could fall from the sky and smoosh me to death. As I get older, I am aware of more of the rocks in the sky. However, worrying about future rocks just gets in the way of enjoying life in this moment, and that’s something I’ve decided not to allow to happen.
When my rock finally does come for me, I hope it will take me unawares in the middle of doing something I love. You can’t ask for better than that.