A Brief Reflection about Summer, Control, and Medical Issues

This summer has had its usual times of pleasantries and challenges, some bigger than others and some less so, hardly worth mentioning. So, I’ll just focus on a few that brought up more contemplation about the control issues we all face daily, particularly aging and concomitant health conditions.

The first is my 65^th high school reunion, which had 16 attending out of around 85 graduates. It was a good time to leisurely hear their tales of the past five years of living. Aside from stories of some travels, changing residences, and family members, all, of course, had a litany of health stories—both humorous and serious—about their issues of disease and aging. All of them found that some control was possible, but increasingly, they noted there was less, given our shared age of around 83. And all of us were aware that by our next reunion in five years, there would inevitably be less control.

However, it was nice to hear that all were putting on a brave face and had been able to accept that which could not be controlled, but were still working on those that had some chance of control, and letting the past be the past, since nothing could be done to change the past. Such an attitude is truly the essence of how to approach life’s challenges.

More specifically about me, this summer has been a little different medically. I’ve had my usual checkups, as always, trying to get everything checked out to make sure nothing new showed up from the previous six months of cruising, where medical access is a bit iffy. In these, there are usually no decisions I need to make in order to maintain control of my seemingly innocuous aging process so far; however, this summer, a couple of things showed up to necessitate a change, and to evaluate my control of that process.

One was my eyesight. I knew I didn’t see as well anymore. Close-up for reading has long required glasses, but distance was getting worse, which is something I rely on a lot for sailing. Harbor entry landmarks, obstacles on the water or just under the surface, and buoy markers and trailing lines for fish traps on the sea bottom require good eyesight the most. It was also more problematic for simply enjoying the island scenery, changing weather, and underwater life.

So, when I went in for my usual eye exam, I was thinking about how to express my concerns to the doctor. I’ve had cataracts for years, which grew some every year, and maybe that was a route to consider. Also, at every past visit, I always tried to squint and struggled to read the lower lines of letters on the exam charts. And in thinking about that, I decided it was a rather stupid thing to do.

Since the purpose of the exam was to define what my normal vision was, squinting and struggling with my eyes wasn’t what I normally did for daily vision. So, why was I trying to do that in my test? Just a commonly shared habit of always trying to score best on any test? Yeah, I think so. Rather dumb to do, and at this visit, I decided to take more control of the visit and not try to do my best, but be honest and let my poor vision be recorded—and maybe push the measure of my cataracts into the “let’s do something about it” category.

And that’s where it went. My measures weren’t so good, and since the optician said that surgery and lens replacement would restore most of my eyesight, I had the control I wanted. Nice to be in charge. As a result, August was taken up with surgery on the left eye, appointments to check on that, surgery on the right eye two weeks later, and appointments on that and one in September for an overall check. And, it’s all worked out well: Some of the astigmatism was also corrected, and I’m at 20/20 again. I still need reading glasses for anything small within four feet, but that’s OK. I chose to emphasize my farsightedness and not go with variable lenses since they sometimes sacrifice distant vision to not have to use reading glasses. So, I’m happy about that control situation... but not about a different one!

Now, one fine day at end of September, I was coming down the cement stairs from a Fred Meyer store and caught my right foot sandal on the gripping tread of the top step, which caused me to lose my balance and lurch forward. I stumbled toward the bottom, trying to regain control, but didn’t make it. Going down towards the cement pad at the foot of the stairs, I tried to rotate my body so I could roll with the fall and break my momentum, at least. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to get turned enough and came down fully on my right side and shoulder. Needless to say, that hurt a bit.

After lying there a couple of minutes to clear my mind of the pain, I was able to get up and walk a little distance to my friend’s house and assess the damage. It didn’t feel too good. I was hoping I would still be fortunate enough to continue my life record of never having broken any bones. But no, I broke my record and my collarbone at the distal end, which is the common place they break and most easily grow back together.

Well, at least that was some good news from the X-ray the next day. The bad news was that it would need at least two months of rest and therapy before it healed back to normalcy. But, I was to fly back to Antigua and start working on the boat in one month to begin my sailing again. Now, that little event certainly screwed up my carefully scheduled control of that plan. What to do?

OK, there’s always a Plan B if you look for it. October had two other medical check-ups scheduled before I was supposed to leave, so that wasn’t a problem. And since I was supposed to leave home the first of November and spend that month leisurely getting ready to cruise, I could instead use November as the extra month of recuperation I needed at home, and spend December doing sailing prep in plenty of time before my first crew gal arrived the first of January for her stint. Problem solved; control reestablished.

There have been a few interferences with other plans that I had made for that time period, but aside from those, the biggest issue has been simply getting through the pain and adjustments to daily life, such as sleeping, sitting, taking walks, eating with my left hand, etc. I immediately continued with my daily 1-hr exercise routine, but with many adaptations. After going over my routine with the orthopedist, he figured I was covering any recommended physical therapy, so I didn’t have to fool around with those appointments, etc. And as I was gradually able to return to normal execution of my routine, it allowed me to measure my daily healing process, which is what I do to measure my aging process every day anyway.

So, I’m officially healed, and there’s no pain from the fracture; I just have my usual aches and pains of aging to keep me company now. Ah, well. I do what I can to control some of that and accept what I can’t. I did well in setting up and deciding what to do about my eyesight, but although I wasn’t able to control my stumble and the physical result of that surprise event, I did end up with a good compromise in controlling the sequence of events for my present and immediate future life. Not too shabby, I think.

However, reflecting on all these summer events, and especially the accident, makes me more aware of the fragility of my body, the ongoing aging processes, and the ones that can suddenly spring forth by accident or from a hidden disease. So what can a person do to avoid the unpleasantries that seem to inevitably arise? Well, I guess it’s best to divide them up into the two categories I’ve been talking about: what you can control and what you can’t. Those that are part of the natural aging process go into the “can’t control” pile, and the rest into the “can control” heap.

How to decide that? I think that is determined by giving a serious effort, trying to do some activity for a good length of time, and then making a decision. Then, once it’s sorted out, accept the decision, put it in the past, and move on to figuring out how to adapt to that fact of life, if it’s a “can’t control”, or how to be able to continue doing it (by exercising, medication, etc.), if it’s a “can control.”

Anyway, those are my thoughts about my summer’s medically related events and how I handle thinking about them. Time to go sailing!