So another year passes leaving much in its wake. Seems the years are flying by now in the blink of an eye, much like watching the original movie version of H.G. Well's "The Time Machine". You know the one that stars Rod Taylor and Yvette Mimieux... then again maybe you don't know...
I have a tendency to forget (rather conveniently) that I'm not 24, 34 or even 44. No, I am fifty four going on a hundred. Let me explain... Recently I had lunch with a friend that I had not seen in sometime, about fifteen years in fact.... I explained about how I came to have open heart surgery in December 2009 and how I seemed to change in some way because I could not seem to grasp that this had actually been done to me and I survived. Its an odd situation, but I think I'm beginning to get a handle on what's bothering my noggin about the whole affair. Thanks to the lunch conversation and some reading and happenstance circumstances lately, I have been confronted with the whole reality of the thing and forced to take it out, examine it and managed to come to some realizations. (if I'm not careful I could strain my intellectual muscle, puny as it is)...
Ever since the surgery, I have been bothered by this physical act having been done to me and uncertain as to why. I think possibly because I survived and maybe did not want to survive, yes I'm a little twisted. The surgery as far as I know was a success and probably saved my life (darn the luck), but I am different both physically and mentally. As far as the physical part I feel ok most of the time but my physical strength and stamina have been diminished. I tire more easily, have spells of weakness in the legs, small dizzy spells (although some will tell you I have always been dizzy - thanks guys) constant soreness at the
incision and sometimes pain along the bone incision after frequent lifting, stretching, reaching, or bending over. This of course indicates that I am most assuredly not the person I used to be and I now have to deal with that as it presents some difficulties in being able to work....however the larger part appears to be mental ( wouldn't ya know )...
The surgery and lingering physical deficiency scream at me how I am less than what I was. So being faced with my own mortality and everything else that is screwed up in my life it has thrown some real mind benders at me... I am no longer as concerned with material things and possessions, have lost my sense of ambition (although I still have to eat and have a place to live), no sense of purpose, little hope of being anything other than destitute or homeless and without any prospect of becoming employed in a position that I can physically handle or have a career where I can prosper, I don't seem to care about much of anything. My
biggest concern is doing whatever makes me happy in whatever amount of time I have left not much else matters... I am not certain that the surgery did me any favors. What good and to what purpose is longevity with diminished capacity and poor quality of life. Need an exercise in "living in Purgatory" (and I don't mean a ski resort in Colorado) Yes, I am suffering from depression but its more than that, some part of my psyche has gone awol. I don't seem to be able to find that missing piece of the jigsaw puzzle...and I have looked everywhere, under the bed, under the carpet, in the closet with the skeletons, in the trunk of my car, out back where I hid the bodies, where Jimmy Hoffa is buried, left field in Yankee Stadium, deep in the "lost Dutchman mine", in the freezer, in the eyes of friends and even in the mirror. All I found was lint, dust a blank stare and a wheat back penny....
the only place I have not looked is Mississippi. Hmm.. I wonder.... (to be continued...?)
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