Reflections on my annual physical
09/04/15 05:24
Today I go to my doctor for my annual physical. It isn’t much of a process, as I have been blessed with excellent health so far in my life. Outside of a couple of stupid accidents and a trigger thumb a decade ago, I haven’t needed much treatment. My doctor is very busy and if you call to make an appointment for a physical, you’re likely to be offered a date six months in the future. Probably most of the doctor’s time is invested in things more interesting than routine health screenings. Still, I like to be one of the “boring” patients. I’m not eager to become an interesting problem to solve for my doctor. One of my favorite parts of the exam is the pre-screening done by the doctor’s assistant. As they check blood pressure, weight, temperature and other statistics they get out a computer to record all of the medicines you are taking. Until this year, I’ve always been able to say “none” and go on. This year the only medicine I have to report is a daily low-dose aspirin, a suggestion at last year’s exam based on the doctor’s knowledge of my mother’s history of TIAs. Still, it won’t take the person long to record a single medicine, and I’m likely to garner a “that was easy!” comment.
I don’t want to live the rest of my life obsessed with the question of “How long do I have?” I’m more interested in “How will I use my time?”
Still, I’m glad that my doctor accepts medicaid. I’d hate to have to change doctors in just a few years when my insurance situation will take a turn that marks the transition from “regular” to “senior citizen.”
According to a 2014 Gallup Poll, the average retirement age is now 62, the age I will reach early this summer. I’ve never thought of myself as average, however. Another statistic that I keep in mind is that one in four current retirees will live past 90. And when I look at some of the “past 90” members of our congregation, I am encouraged. We’ve got folks that age who still drive their cars, live independently, and are engaged in a lot of church and social activities. A couple of them seem to have sped up, rather than slowed down in recent years. They are good role models for me.
I’ve still got several things I’d like to accomplish in my life. One of my heroes, whom I never met face-to-face, is novelist Frank McCourt. He had a full career as a New York school teacher before publishing the Pulitzer Prize-winning memoir, “Angela’s Ashes” when he was 66 years old. He died at the relatively young age of 79, but that still givers me four years to pull together a book - one of the unmet goals I set for myself when I was younger.
I’m not likely to do anything spectacular like Diana Nyad, who at 65 completed her 110-mile swim from Cuba to Florida on her fifth attempt a couple of years ago. But there may be some beautiful paddles and even a few whitewater waves in my future. Most of my favorite outdoor activities - paddling, taking pictures and walking - can be done at a slightly reduced pace. I can always shed my biggest and heaviest canoes as I age, reserving the lighter ones that are easier to launch and retrieve for the years when my strength decreases.
I can still get the lid off of the peanut butter jar - one of the tests of strength of which I have long been proud.
I think that it is most appropriate for people to consider making some changes in their sixties. It is a good time to make some plans and consider one’s options. But I’m not sure that the word “retire” is the best term. Of course the word has many meanings.
If we mean retire in the sense of “leaving company to go to bed,” I’m in favor of doing that almost daily.
If we mean retire in the sense of completing the defensive inning so one can go on the offensive as in baseball where one team is retired and the other gets to bat, I’m ready.
If we use the word in its 16th century application for military maneuvers meaning to “withdraw” or “lead back,” I’m not so sure.
The old French meaning of the word also speaks of seeking privacy, an endeavor that I enjoy.
But I was really encouraged as I took the trip through the etymology dictionary for the word retirement to find the connection between the word “retire” and the word “tirade.” I’ve been on several tirades and if the prefix “re” implies doing it again, there are several that I’d probably go on several times given the opportunity.
Ask anyone who has gone to meetings that I attend. I’ve been known to make some long speeches and some rather intersting volleys of words. I’m going to believe that I’ve got several tirades left in me.
On the other hand, again, leafing through the etymology dictionary, an enterprise that doesn’t attract all of my friends and acquaintances, I discovered that the “tire” root in “retire” also shows up in another old French word, “martyr.” And, so far, martyrdom is not an option I have chosen for myself.
All in all, it seems to me like this might be a good time in my life to consider one or two major projects - perhaps one that has been on the “back burner” like tackling a book-length manuscript or perhaps a new adventure including several things I’ve never before attempted. Maybe it is time to dream up some new things that I haven’t previously imagined.
At any rate, after I complete my physical this morning, I’ve got another appointment as part of my annual post-easter self-care routine. I’m going to get my teeth cleaned. From an evolutionary standpoint, the structure of human teeth have a service life of about 50 years. Coming in between 6 and 7 years of age, many folks in previous generations got enough life out of those teeth. I, on the other hand, am going to need a few more decades out of the old ivories. It’s a good idea to take care of them.
I don’t want to live the rest of my life obsessed with the question of “How long do I have?” I’m more interested in “How will I use my time?”
Still, I’m glad that my doctor accepts medicaid. I’d hate to have to change doctors in just a few years when my insurance situation will take a turn that marks the transition from “regular” to “senior citizen.”
According to a 2014 Gallup Poll, the average retirement age is now 62, the age I will reach early this summer. I’ve never thought of myself as average, however. Another statistic that I keep in mind is that one in four current retirees will live past 90. And when I look at some of the “past 90” members of our congregation, I am encouraged. We’ve got folks that age who still drive their cars, live independently, and are engaged in a lot of church and social activities. A couple of them seem to have sped up, rather than slowed down in recent years. They are good role models for me.
I’ve still got several things I’d like to accomplish in my life. One of my heroes, whom I never met face-to-face, is novelist Frank McCourt. He had a full career as a New York school teacher before publishing the Pulitzer Prize-winning memoir, “Angela’s Ashes” when he was 66 years old. He died at the relatively young age of 79, but that still givers me four years to pull together a book - one of the unmet goals I set for myself when I was younger.
I’m not likely to do anything spectacular like Diana Nyad, who at 65 completed her 110-mile swim from Cuba to Florida on her fifth attempt a couple of years ago. But there may be some beautiful paddles and even a few whitewater waves in my future. Most of my favorite outdoor activities - paddling, taking pictures and walking - can be done at a slightly reduced pace. I can always shed my biggest and heaviest canoes as I age, reserving the lighter ones that are easier to launch and retrieve for the years when my strength decreases.
I can still get the lid off of the peanut butter jar - one of the tests of strength of which I have long been proud.
I think that it is most appropriate for people to consider making some changes in their sixties. It is a good time to make some plans and consider one’s options. But I’m not sure that the word “retire” is the best term. Of course the word has many meanings.
If we mean retire in the sense of “leaving company to go to bed,” I’m in favor of doing that almost daily.
If we mean retire in the sense of completing the defensive inning so one can go on the offensive as in baseball where one team is retired and the other gets to bat, I’m ready.
If we use the word in its 16th century application for military maneuvers meaning to “withdraw” or “lead back,” I’m not so sure.
The old French meaning of the word also speaks of seeking privacy, an endeavor that I enjoy.
But I was really encouraged as I took the trip through the etymology dictionary for the word retirement to find the connection between the word “retire” and the word “tirade.” I’ve been on several tirades and if the prefix “re” implies doing it again, there are several that I’d probably go on several times given the opportunity.
Ask anyone who has gone to meetings that I attend. I’ve been known to make some long speeches and some rather intersting volleys of words. I’m going to believe that I’ve got several tirades left in me.
On the other hand, again, leafing through the etymology dictionary, an enterprise that doesn’t attract all of my friends and acquaintances, I discovered that the “tire” root in “retire” also shows up in another old French word, “martyr.” And, so far, martyrdom is not an option I have chosen for myself.
All in all, it seems to me like this might be a good time in my life to consider one or two major projects - perhaps one that has been on the “back burner” like tackling a book-length manuscript or perhaps a new adventure including several things I’ve never before attempted. Maybe it is time to dream up some new things that I haven’t previously imagined.
At any rate, after I complete my physical this morning, I’ve got another appointment as part of my annual post-easter self-care routine. I’m going to get my teeth cleaned. From an evolutionary standpoint, the structure of human teeth have a service life of about 50 years. Coming in between 6 and 7 years of age, many folks in previous generations got enough life out of those teeth. I, on the other hand, am going to need a few more decades out of the old ivories. It’s a good idea to take care of them.