Give Thanks For Good Health In Bad Times

Every Thanksgiving as is my custom, I search for reasons to be grateful.  I confess this year it has been a stretch.  Like many in my age group, the aches and pains are mounting up.  Body parts are wearing out faster than the marble steps leading up to the top of the leaning Tower of Pisa.

Not unlike those steps, years of repetitive human action extracts a toll on our bodies.  What makes it disheartening  is the first 70 years of my life were virtually pain free.  No broken limbs.  No surgeries, save for a tonsillectomy.  Few visits to doctors and a handful of x-rays over those decades.

It is not as if I didn't prepare for the onset of lost youth.  I exercised my entire life, beginning with sports at an early age.  Until recently, I did 50 minutes of cardio training religiously, taking a few days off every month.  I lifted free weights and worked on my core to build balance and strength.

As I watched others fight the ravages of advancing years, my pride swelled.  That would never happen to me.  I did the right things to avoid the pitfalls of inevitable decline.  Good health was won through my hard work alone. That was enough to stave off the effects of too many birthdays.

In hindsight, my foolish pride was my undoing.  I should have been giving thanks daily for the precious gift of good health instead of pounding my chest in celebration of what I had done to become fit.  I have learned a humbling lesson: no one earns nor is owed absolute health.

When I reached seven decades, I endured my first surgery in 64 years to repair a torn rotator cuff.  My recovery progressed well and within months I resumed my active life.  At that point, I figured I was good until I was housed on the wrong side of the grass.  I remained invincible.

Then this year brought a cascade of physical ailments.  I noticed it was becoming painful to walk.  X-rays and an MRI indicated I required a hip replacement.  As the orthopedic specialist explained, "Your hip has just worn out."  Not the worse news, but a reminder of my vulnerability.

About the same time knee pain forced me to walk with a limp. Osteoarthritis is the culprit.  Injections offered little relief.  The ortho doctor just winced and said, "It probably is related to your hip. It will get better after surgery."  As comforting as that sounds, at that time surgery was five months away,

Pain morphed into a daily grind. Then a frequent neck and shoulder ache turned into a fiery torment.  Another MRI and another doctor.  Diagnosis: multiple degenerative discs in my neck and a pinched nerve.  Sleeping, sitting and pounding my computer keyboard became challenging.

What followed next was rounds of physical therapy and physiotherapy on my hip and neck.  My calendar was clogged, not with golf or outdoor activities, but with therapy, pain management consultants, doctors and more imaging appointments.  For a once active guy, it is distressing.

I am not auditioning for a pity party.  I could be undergoing much worse, a life-threatening disease for instance.  Many friends are dealing with far more pain and crippling infirmities.  I consider myself blessed to be able to carry on with my life, even if my issues have limited my mobility and stamina.

My regret is that I never fully appreciated my superb health that allowed a vigorous lifestyle. I was blessed then and still am.  Health setbacks are part of life at any age. No one escapes them if their earthly existence includes too many revolutions around the sun.  It is the universal truth.

Throughout my episodes,  I am learning new traits.  Patience; something lacking in my DNA.  Endurance; life's journey is no sprint but a marathon run over a pothole pitted course.  Humbleness; more awareness of others sufferings.  Appreciation; especially for health care personnel.

I even find more joy in life's tiniest moments.  A sympathetic pat on the back.  A furtive glance of caring.  An ear that patiently listens to my complaints.  A nod from a fellow patient who understands the tribulation.  A wife who bears the brunt of the mood swings triggered by bouts of pain.

My hip surgery is scheduled January 13th.  Instead of dreading it, I am buoyed by each approaching day.  Questions surround my neck issues.  However, I am trusting a solution will be found.  Whatever happens, I refuse to wallow in regret or allow uncertainty to rob me of the joy for each day of life. 

All my training has prepared my body for surgery and recovery.  Yet I take no credit for the years of good health.  If I have learned anything, it is that we do not have full authority over our bodies.  Without God, we can't even draw our next breath.  That thought makes me thankful and at peace.