OCTOBER 30, 2021 – Perhaps now I really have “recalibrated.” Or maybe my nearly two-month “news” blackout is simply working: once a news junkie, I no longer feel a craving for inconclusive . . . noise.
But more is afoot here, I think. It’s called aging, not simply in a physical sense but psychologically, along with the conscious acknowledgment that however much we jump up and down about the affairs of the world, our precious sphere turns round and round at its same, age-old pace—a rate that will continue for countless millennia to come.
A recent “health event,” one involving a sudden loss of consciousness and dramatic collapse onto the floor—or in old-fashioned parlance, “a fainting spell”—led to a long meeting with a cardiologist, followed by a battery of tests, and, to my considerable relief, a clean bill of heart health. Due to a congenital condition, a valve replacement lies in my future, but not now, not yet. (This condition had nothing to do with the aforementioned fainting spell.)
Against the backdrop of “noisy news,” this reminder of the fragility and ephemerality of life underscored three imperatives: 1. Appreciate every moment of life; 2. Organize and provide access to important information—“having it in my head” doesn’t count, nor do stacks of unorganized papers on a desktop and slugs of electronic files on a laptop no one can access; and 3. Keep moving, keep laughing.
As my physical therapist said, “Motion is lotion.” When I announced to my cardiologist that I climb the equivalent 75 flights of stairs every day, she was initially incredulous. “You mean 75 stair-steps?” she asked.
“No, 75 flights,” I said.
“You mean 13 steps times 75?”
“Yes.” I was impressed that she knew off the top of her head, how many steps are in a residential staircase.
Being quite a bit her senior (I purposely chose a cardiologist who had ample experience but wouldn’t be retiring before I do), I was encouraged when she, looking perfectly fit, said, “Wow! I couldn’t do that!”
More important, though, was my cardiologist’s sense of humor. Clearly in command of her specialty (I quipped that the big difference between her profession and mine was that lawyers need to look like they know what they’re doing; cardiologists, on the other hand, need to know what they’re doing) and an excellent communicator, the good doctor was quick to smile and laugh and by such means, made me feel much at ease.
I was reminded of Henri de Monteville, the great French physician/surgeon of the 14th century, who told patients and colleagues that to retain health or regain it after a bad spell, they needed to tell jokes and laugh as much as possible.
Such wisdom could be traced to Proverbs, that reservoir of timeless wisdom in the Tanakh: “A joyful heart is good medicine, but a broken spirit dries up the bones.”
In anticipation of Halloween, may you find lots to laugh about among life’s tricks and treats, especially as young kids in amusing costumes come knocking at your door.
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© 2021 by Eric Nilsson
