Is has been a while since my last post. There are two reasons for that. First, I am attempting to move my blog to a more flexible platform and that requires the manual transfer of everything written to this point. It is frankly exhausting, but little by little it will be done. The second reason is I wanted to follow up my last post with a very positive one and I’m not sure I can do that, just yet. But I am sure I have more questions.
After the button procedure in June was completed, though I expected immediate relief, my expectations weren’t met. The cardiologist suggested that it may take three months for my body to adjust to the new internal pressures, so he scheduled a follow-up in September. He seemed very optimistic that everything would turn out great. I hope he is proven correct next month. While I am thankful that I do have more good days than bad ones since the last procedure, there are still some bad days when fluid builds up.
I had another thoracentesis (which is the draining of fluid from the pleural cavity) since the button was inserted, and I am scheduled for another on Monday. My pulmonologist suggested a potential pleurodesis (a procedure to fill in the pleural cavity so fluid cannot accumulate) as a preventative for the future.
I joke that I just need to complete one more “esis” and I will have my doctorate.
He doesn’t know why I continue to have fluid buildup, but believes it is a heart issue versus a lung issue. He mentioned that I might need to double up on one of my medications. I complained that, when I started all this in September of 2023, I had expectations of reducing medications, not increasing them. He confirmed that this may be something I will have to deal with for the rest of my life. I intend to live into my 90s; will the next 30 years be like this? Is the life I have worth the open-heart surgery, a subsequent second value repair, a hole repair, and all the thoracenteses? Would I have gone through the first surgery had I known two years later we would still be doing this?
Charles suggested, “maybe it is just your age.” Uhm… HELLO, Mister you are older than me, I thought.
“Age is not a disease,” I said.
That subject has come up often lately, the question of age and health. Our grandson Marcos told us about a relative of his mother that was dying. When I asked him why, he shrugged and said, “old age.”
“Age is not a cause of death,” I told him. “Did he have cancer or heart disease or some other illness?” Marcos just shrugged. He’s 12 and had no more information, and judging from his body language he wasn’t interested in further conversation about it.
People sometimes compare our bodies to cars. Older cars are higher maintenance and require a lot of care to keep them road worthy, that’s true. But that is due to the years of wear and tear, not time alone. An antique car that has been garaged and rarely driven doesn’t show the same level of deterioration as one that was driven constantly and exposed to the weather. Plus, and here is the biggest difference, cars do not regenerate the way human bodies do. Every day, our cells renew as old cells die off, the same is not true for cars.
A person who has taken care of herself, eaten a healthy diet, refrained from toxic substances, exercised, and maintained healthy relationships, has a longer life expectancy than the same aged person who smokes, drinks, is overweight and sedentary, and lives mostly alone. That being the case, we can take age out of the equation. Sure, the older the second person lives, the closer they are to death, but that is due to how long her body has endured the abuse, not just the years alone.
Yesterday, a friend asked me why this kept happening and if I was potentially “over doing it.”
“Never!” I joked.
I do try to stay active. Although the oppressive heat of late July in Oklahoma has kept me indoors more than I would like, I garden and tend to my bees and chickens. Maintaining one’s mobility is key to a long life. Am I overdoing it? It is debatable, but I don’t think so. Work isn’t really work when you enjoy what you are doing.
I recently retired from my job but am not yet old for retirement benefits. After I announced I was leaving the workforce, more than a few people told me about someone they knew who died shortly after retirement. I’m not sure whether they were trying to discourage my decision or encourage it. But I see no point in working until death just to accumulate more money to leave behind. Charles and I don’t need much to live on and intend to die debt-free but basically broke with just enough cash left to pay for our disposals.
Another friend asked me, “Wasn’t the point of retirement, so you could rest?”
“No,” I corrected her. “The point of retirement was to free up time so I can do the things I want to do.”
While I do enjoy a few moments of quite reflection at sunrise on my porch rocker, I would rather my obituary state “she ran out of gas while on an adventure,” over “she was well rested.”
One day there will be a final rest but, as long as I am breathing, rest doesn’t factor into my plans.
“Old age,” is never shown a death certificate. Age is not a disease; it is a condition of living. We only age while we are alive. The passage of time requires it. While our skin may wrinkle by the natural reduction of collagen over time, gravity, and pollution, wrinkles will not kill us. Smiling, deep thought, and sunshine also cause wrinkles. Life in general causes wrinkles. But wrinkles do not cause death.
A person’s age should not be used to measure how much life they have left, but how much life they have lived. It is merely a determination of how many candles should be on the cake. Instead of asking a person how old they are, wouldn’t it be better to ask how long they have been alive?
Please check out my other blog all about our life on our homestead and apiary – https://sugarberryslope.com/sugarberry-buzz-blog
