Over the last couple of weeks, I have had small reminders that I am not immortal. My neck is plagued by arthritis pain near enough to my spinal cord that it put me in the hospital once by messing up an EKG and making the ER doctor think I was having a heart attack. (Multiple EKGs were messed up; it took a week to sort out the real cause.) This week, my neck has been cracking as if it were a knuckle that I would never intentionally crack for long-term arthritis sufferers’ reasons. I keep thinking my head might separate from the rest of my body after an egregious, unwanted cracking. Or, more realistically, it might pop and leave me paralyzed. a
My chest has also been hurting in an area on the left side, right above my heart. This, too, has sent me to the doctor’s office thinking of a possible heart attack. It is arthritis attacking my ribcage. It causes rapid muscle spasms that feel like my heart fibrillating and beating far faster than a living heart should. So, I have vast experience with false myocardial infarctions.
But this week, on top of the same old false symptoms, I have been getting heart rate readings on my blood pressure monitor that are far below normal. Even more concerning, I have passed out several times, followed by snapping awake again, possibly my body reacting to dangerously low heart rates. I haven’t been to the doctor yet about that, a thing that may put me in the hospital again for something that is not really a heart problem again. But it could also presage a death by heart failure.
One day, coming up, I may wake up dead already from heart failure as I slept.
I am not worried about dying. I don’t believe in life after death. But I do believe the entire universe is alive, aware, and actively ready to reabsorb me and repurpose that which makes me up. The problems I worry about associated with death are the effects I leave behind me, economic, emotional, and generational. And I have left behind me lots of writing that will tell my loved ones all the things they don’t really want to know about me.
The time for proof of mortality is near. But even if it does not occur this week, I am not afraid of facing it. I feel fully connected to the universe and fulfilled in my little patch of existence. It is good to know there are some things I can choose and can control about how I face it. I will try to get back home to the farm in Iowa to choose the place where it happens, the place where both of my parents died, and all four of my grandparents have died, and four of my uncles and aunts have died. Heck, there are more finished lives in my family than continuing lives. Of course, that’s true for everyone who ever lived.





























Dave Barry
I threatened to write a post about Dave Barry and the writing gods apparently thought that was a very very bad idea. They have tried to prevent me from carrying out this idle threat by attacking my computer with gremlins. Now my WordPress page is shrinking practically out of sight. I can barely see what I am typing. You don’t believe me? Here’s what it looks like at the moment;
They obviously tricked me into pressing the secret shrink button on my computer, and I have no idea where to find the un-shrink features. Not only that, but my Facebook page is automatically translating everything it can into French. They really don’t want me to tell you about Dave Barry. And why do you suppose that is?
Well, Dave Barry may actually be me from a parallel dimension. He started writing for The Miami Herald in the early 80’s, at about the same time I started teaching. He retired from that in 2004 after winning a Pulitzer Prize and started writing humorous novels…. the same thing I started doing when I left the job I loved and was good at. Okay, so I am stretching the analogy to the point that all the buttons are popping off its shirt… but the point is, we are alike in some ways and I admire his work and I steal things from it whenever I possibly can. Like this post. I deeply admire the way he can say witty and pithy things. Like some of these quotes;
So, you see, he is very good at doing what I want to be good at. He is a humor columnist and all-around imitation Mark Twain. And I have read and loved his novels. Especially the Peter Pan things he writes with a partner.
So, I will leave this post here even though I could talk for hours about how Dave Barry makes me laugh. I have to stop. the words on the screen keep getting smaller and smaller, and my old eyes are about to fall out of my head.
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Tagged as book review, books, Dave Barry, fiction, humor, writing