Growing Old
It was a dreary day yesterday, which well matched my mood. I felt dreary, too. My abdominal aortic aneurysm is now in need of repair, two years after the false start of 2021. There’s no urgency. It’s just time. But there’s a lot to think about, an activity at which my fervid brain excels. I’m at a fork in the road of my life and I get to imagine where each fork will take me. The big decision, repair or not, is easy. But it’s the type of repair that gives me pause. They can open me up or slide in a stent. If I were a young man, they’d open me up. But I’m not, so a stent is the preferred treatment.
If history is any guide, however, this is just a phase I have to endure as part of the mental exercises I use to prepare myself for this sort of thing. I went through the same exercise prior to my cataract surgery. I’ll consult with my doctor and his staff, familiarize myself with the procedure, think about what to expect right after surgery, and begin to prepare myself for a good outcome. And I’ll think about my post-op life and think about how to adjust. And, if I’m good at anything, it’s adjusting to new situations, finding the rhythm and flow, and settling in, taking my time, feeling my way along.
I believe that’s called practicing acceptance, which feels almost biblical. Learning to carry your burden. Of course, being able and willing to do so has a downside. I’ve carried some burdens, endured some situations, longer than I should. But that’s a story for another time and place. In general, I’ve never found that railing against the inevitable does any good. I guess the trick is figuring out what’s inevitable. And this surgery and the life to which it will lead feels like that, inevitable, just a part of growing up and growing old. And I’d really like to grow older and I think this will help me do it.