In threes…

My mother had a saying, which I heard almost every day: “Bad things come in threes.” She could always point out situations in which that happened, and when a couple of negative events occurred, you could count on her to warn you that a third one was on the way. When something else happened, she would point it out somberly…hut in some senses, gleefully. “See, I told you!”

These days, I have been pondering this myself. First, I suffered a stroke (March 2013), then, a condition that was diagnosed some years ago (narrowing neck on my aortic heart valve) demonstrated its worsening condition (Nov. 2013.) I noticed that my vision, corrected with new glasses in May, before I could get my Driver’s License renewed, appeared to be not so good as it should have been. So I had another eye test. Sure enough, the left eye is worse. Perhaps new glasses were coming…then, in addition, it turns out that the cataracts growing on my eyes are severe enough that perhaps I need to have them surgically removed, before thinking about new glasses – January 2014. Have you been keeping count? That’s right: three items. My mother is nodding wisely, “See, I told you.”

The central significance that I take from all this is that as one’s body ages, it begins to deteriorate, sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly. All of which underlines the importance of keeping oneself as fit as possible, because that slows the process considerably.

So, my medical appointments are stacking up. Monday, I see the Cardiologist in Edmonton, where a plan of action vis a vis my heart problem will be mapped out. January 22, I see the eye guy regarding the advisability of cataract removal. That’s two potential surgeries in the near future. It’s like keeping track of your dance card, for those of you old enough to know what a dance card is…or was.

I have been moving toward the Cardiology appointment with a lively anticipation, thinking beyond it to the possibility that I may be able to actually swim lengths in a few months. Great attitude, but…

Yesterday I became aware of how anxious I am about this meeting. I focused my anxiety on the problems of getting there. My appointments begin at 8:30 Monday morning. I didn’t relish the thought of a 6:00 AM start in the dark. So I booked a room in a lodge for Sunday night, so I could drive in tomorrow and have lots of time…but

The weather Sunday night promises to hover around minus 32, with a wind-chill of minus 37 or 38. And the ledge has no plug-in capability. That’s where I put my anxiety. As I became aware of it, I finally asked Beatrix if she would take off the day and come with me Monday morning at 6:00 AM. Not necessarily to dive, just to “come with.” She agreed quickly, and my anxiety began to abate, or at lest to switch to the negative possibilities of my Monday meeting. How serious is “serious”? What game plan will work? Will I need surgery? How dangerous is that? Am I about to become a Cardiac cripple? And so on.

At least I’ll start in a warm car, which will start, and I’ll have support, Asking for that is a big step for me, but it makes me feel oh-so vulnerable. I’ll leave it at that for the moment.