"A hero is no braver than an ordinary man, but he is braver five minutes longer." - Ralph Waldo Emerson
My
mother hates aging. It's been a constant source of stress for her as
long as I can remember. Dreading every birthday, every milestone, never
willing to raise her head up from what's passed to what's been
achieved. No amount of positive reinforcement or attempts at support
have been able to change this. It's not a condemnation, merely an
observation of her tenacious hold on this perspective.
Now that
I'm traveling the middle of my own road the latter half of the journey
looms before me in a dark nebulous fog, obscuring the final
destination. I find my thoughts turning to subjects that a couple of
decades ago were as foreign to me as calculus remains to this day. I am
at times frustrated and betrayed by my body, dislike the grey hair and
everything I want to do requires extra effort or additional
consideration now. It's plain and true that I do not have the stamina I
once did. This isn't a lamentation of grief or regret, merely
acceptance of where I am.
The truth is that I like my age, I
prefer the "now" to the "then" and try not to worry about what the
"might be." Though admittedly, I wouldn't mind having this brain in my
20 year old self but then that's the price of wisdom I guess. Obviously
health is a concern, things I totally took for granted a lifetime ago
now sit next to me on the couch and patiently wait their turn for my
attention.
Several weeks ago I had numbness in my left arm that
spread to my face. I waited only slightly longer than the average
person before quietly making my home arrangements and driving myself to
the hospital. I won't go into my overall opinions on the level of care I
received except to say I had my boys on medevac on standby to come and
get me if my CT scan showed anything on it at all. Fortunately it was
not heart or stroke - related. The most likely culprit is a pinched
nerve in my neck (the result of carrying a heart monitor over my left
shoulder for the last 20 years) and I was sent home, to follow up with a
MRI of the brain and neck. Not the most fun experience in the world
but certainly nothing horrendous. Then we get the results ...
I have
some mildly bulging discs in my neck, changes in my lifting habits and
possibly a chiropractor should take care of that. The brain
MRI however, was not completely negative as expected. There are
"changes in the white matter that are normally associated with
microvascular disease and are atypical in a patient of this age."
And
there ... just like that I went from feeling ok about where I am to
utter terror. One of my basest fears is that I will become trapped in
my body or that what makes me who I am will erode, that a day will come
where I do not recognize my children or remember all the wonderful
things of my life any longer.
You know what changes white
matter? MS (multiple sclerosis), Alzheimer's, Parkinson's, a dozen
different dementias that have pointless names and the same horrible end
result. I've spent a good portion of my career caring for the gibbering
wraiths that are the defenseless victims of this eroding process. The
mere prospect of subjecting my family to the same thing is a horror that
devastates me and brings fear where there was none.
Chances are
good that it is artifact on the MRI and not indicative of anything of
significance. However while I am idealistic, blind optimism is not my
forte and to be honest, there's no point in pretending I'm not scared.
I just need to go and hear what the neurologist has to say, do whatever
other tests he may want and take it from there. Hopefully it will be
just artifact and life will go on as it is and I will be able to face
the rest of my journey will my faculties intact.
There's a whole lot of other stuff happening around here but that what was on my mind. Ha ha ha.
Not giving up.
1 day ago
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