Just yesterday I got a call that one of my closest friends had been rushed to the hospital with a life-threatening issue. He had recently had stents put in his carotid arteries to correct blockage stemming from radiation treatments for cancer years ago.
I was stunned because I had thought he was out of the woods, but then I realized my friend’s travail was becoming the usual for so many of my generation, those of us in our 70s and 80s entering our “Golden Pond Years.” There seems to be no end of bad news about friends. With increased frequency, I get notices or phone calls about so-and-so and their medical problems. The seriousness of this routine at first didn’t register much with me, but its frequency has now got my full attention. Duh; we all are getting old and entering a new stage of life, the final one of many that we have experienced over the years.
There are times, I must admit, when I want to feel sorry for myself in getting old – I can no longer run marathons or portage canoes in northern Minnesota, and I seem to be spending more time in doctors’ offices. But I prefer to live on the fun side of life. I’m especially tickled when young nurses ask routinely if I have any aches and pains, smoke, drink alcohol, or take any recreational drugs. My stock answer is that of course I have aches and pains at my age; further, I mention that I enjoy my drinks and ask if there are any recreational drugs she might recommend.
I frequently consult with Rucker, my black Lab who lives up at Potlatch in the north Georgia mountains. Rucker is 12 which makes him exactly my age in dog-years. He is still getting around, and I’m sure that he has aches and pains, but he still swims in the lake and runs in the woods. Like me he has slowed down, but he’s not complaining; he still scrambles for food, chases squirrels, and seeks affection. I like to think that we are marking time together, in appreciation for our long lives.
In the interim, I’m hoping that my friend will make a full recovery and get back to his writing. Knowing him as I do, he is restless to get on with his work and unfinished business. There’s still much to do.