I’ve Put It Off Long Enough

So, my recent trips to the dentist were the first times I’d had my teeth checked/worked on in a long time – in a very long time.  I won’t even say how long.  It had been a stoopid long time.

I was scared to death of what the dentist would find.  I was braced for disaster.  I expected extractions and root canals and prosthetics and scaffolding and surgeries and pain and Oompa Loompas and dollar signs.

It turned out to be not so bad.  I needed surprisingly little repair and some serious deep cleaning.

Whew!  What a relief!

So.

Now, the teeth are squared away and I’m looking at getting a full wellness physical

Again, I’m afraid.

I’m pretty healthy on the surface of it.  I’m reasonably lean.  I work out.  I don’t eat too much crap.

But, I’ve only been to see a doctor a handful of times since I got out of the service.  I went after my motorcycle wreck.  I went when I had pneumonia.  I went when had a urinary tract infection.

I haven’t had an actual full exam in years.

In decades.

So who knows what’s hiding under the surface?

I’m so afraid they’ll find some chronic condition (diabetes, high blood pressure, high cholesterol) and I’ll be put on a roller coaster of medication and symptom management and that’ll cause more chronic conditions and I’ll need more medications and . . . ugh.

Right now I take none medications.

I sometimes take aspirin.

And I drink the booze.

Anyhow.

I don’t really like my primary care physician so I’ve looked up another doctor, an internist, and now I’m screwing up the courage to make the call and schedule an exam with blood tests and stress tests and trained monkeys and the works.

I may not like what they find, but who knows?

Maybe I’ll be very relieved.

I’ve put it off long enough.

Lost, Broken or Stolen

I once heard (or, more likely, I once saw on TV) Buddhist monks consider all their possessions already lost, broken or stolen.

Or maybe I dreamed it.

Anyhow.

It’s a good philosophy, a way of avoiding attachments to material things which can’t endure.

I remember when my first new motorcycle fell over in the carport.

AAAiiiyyyeeeeee!!!!

The bike was less than two weeks old.  I was aghast.  I was mortified.

But then, once I cooled down, I was sort of relieved.  I could quit worrying about the shiny and just ride the bike.  “It’s a working bike, now.”

I’m thinking about it because the shiny, red, oh-so-pretty, sports car I bought yesterday is slowly revealing itself to me.  It’s not a new car.  Oh, no.  It’s seen some miles.  Yes indeed.

Mechanically *knock on wood* it’s pretty sound.  It goes like stink.  Nothing rattles or shakes which you wouldn’t expect to rattle or shake on a convertible.  It has a sweet sounding exhaust note and a nice road feel.

But, oh, look, the front bra is frayed on one edge.  And there’s a crack in the center console.  Ooh, and the shift knob feels oddly glued.  And, well, I knew the passenger visor was broken.  And, hey, one of the attachment points on the top has a broken rivet.  And dig it, the key fob batteries are dead.

What else?

I’m sure there’s more.  I know I’ll find more.

It’s a teeny bit aggravating.  I’m no Buddhist.

But, it’s not mortifying.  After all, it’s been driven.  As shiny as it is, it’s a working car.  I can fix what I can fix and, otherwise, I’ll just drive the dang thing.

I’m kind of a relieved.

 

 

Mr. Chicken

“Mr. Chicken,”
I chided.
“Don’t you know?

The shadow of the
hawk
is not the hawk.”

Revelation!

Mr. Chicken
relaxed –
a sigh of relief

while the shadow
grew –
silent and fast

—-

© Steve Mitchell 2011

Back on Two Wheels!

Hooray!  I got my motorcycle back from the shop yesterday evening.

Whew!  That took a long time.

The stator had to come from the midwest and, for whatever reasons, took about 12 years to reach Arizona.  Okay, perhaps I exaggerate.  Let’s see . . . I stopped riding it on a Sunday and, oh I rode it to the shop on a Wednesday, and then I drove to work in the car about a gazillion times.  So.  It took maybe only four years.

But, anyhow, the wait is finished.  I expected to be elated, back on my bike, and I was pretty darn happy to hear it was ready.  But, on the way home, mindful of the new tires, mindful of any possible mechanical issues, I mostly felt a sense of . . . normalcy. I just felt normal, normal in a good way.  I also realized how badly my helmet visor needed cleaning!

So, once home, I did that right away; I cleaned the visor.  Then I left the house to go get the young’un from school.  We had to walk because I’d left the car parked at the shop until Lucie could get home from work and take me to pick it up.

As I left, I saw the motorcycle, all clean and shiny, in it’s old spot in the carport.

I was elated.