mending

My stitches are mending up. Had me a rough couple of days. More from being sick from the pain killers and a nasty stomach flu. I'd recommend that if you have surgery to skip the throwing up and the stomach flu. It doesn't seem to appreciably enhance the experience. Got myself back to work by Thursday.

Being cut open and the aftermath of being so feeble as you recover of course makes one realize how tenuous one's existence is. It is all really part of the aging process. You fall apart. Adjustments in one's thinking is required. For me it is part of a struggle to maintain that sense of invincibility. It is part of the mythology. I am the golden child, yet I may need a cane. I am the golden middle aged man, the golden wheezing octogenarian. So it is.

All along one can shake his/her fist as you really start to understand the quote, " youth is wasted on the young." My mind is sharp and full of so many more well shaped ideas than in my younger days, yet I have less energy to act upon them.

Progress is measured in years and months, not days and hours. My schedule is so busy now I have to parcel out my attention to projects in slow but steady steps rather than headlong leaps.

I'm not complaining though. I lead a good life.