Of course, it has been easier to smile since The Husband was returned safely to me late yesterday. He is making only croaking noises due to bruising of vocal cords; otherwise, he is doing rather well. The surgery was the result of a parathyroid gland. I know. I didn't know we had any either. Turns out we have four, located near the thyroid gland and sometimes one runs amuck. When that happens, that one will begin to overproduce all sorts of things not good for the rest of the body. The gland that began the size of a grain of rice starts growing and needs to come out. He now has one less parathyroid gland (that had become the size of a large grape) and for the moment is quite hoarse. By next week he should as good as new—well, okay, a lot better than he was.
I was guilt-ridden because I couldn't be there to take care of him; but, frankly, he had said that if I was the one to take him there and back he would be burdened with the anxiety over my well-being. I had to admit he made strong points. I know that my anxiety over three friends who are dealing with devastating news tears at me. So his assessment was not what I wanted to hear, but factual.
This is a learning experience I hadn't planned on. Denial can be a wonderful tool, can't it? Besides, some things we just don't imagine ever having to deal with and that is healthy, I think. It truly is a blessing that most young people can't comprehend what lies ahead of them. Egads! If at twenty-five you could fully imagine what your body could be going through in later decades, you might not want to face it. You likely would, at least, be really ticked off. I am being flippant, at the moment, but I do believe that it is just as well that we have those early years of living in blissful ignorance. If there is nothing we can do to avoid what is in store, why spend time dreading it? I am thrust fully into my "education". During this schooling, I fully expect to drag out that old denial technique periodically. I suspect it will come in handy.
Denial is the divine art of living, Anita. I couldn't imagine seeing everything, all that will ever happen, to look over the edge and having a quick glance at the eternity, where nothing really exist. Hmmm, I have to write on that, too, some time...
ReplyDeleteAnita, you cute squirrel was exactly what I needed. It made me smile, too.
Ove - "Denial is the divine art of living." Wise words, sir. And, yes, do write more. I will interested to read more thoughts on the subject.
ReplyDeleteI am happy that the squirrel brought a smile to your face. For something so destructive, they are just so darned cute.
Years ago I was at war with squirrels because they ate more ob the birdseed I put out than the birds. I've since reconciled with them and now we have an agreement - I continue to feed the birds and the squirrels can eat whatever falls to the ground (which is substantial, I think).
ReplyDeleteDenial has been my friend for a very long time and we have a wonderful (and needed) relationship. Denial is very underrated!
Ken - Your "settlement" with the squirrels makes perfect sense to me. The Husband hasn't yet fully made his peace with the wreck they make of things. The business of the mysteriously half-eaten tomatoes, he can handle, but tunnels under the edges of the house and all the rather treacherous holes in the backyard still get under his skin. He call the squirrels rats with fluffy tails, but guess who is winning the battles. You guessed it.
ReplyDeleteI certainly believe that there is a point when denial becomes pathological and a serious hazard to one's well being. On the other hand, I wonder if at the other end, there might not be a fine line between denial and acceptance. I like to think I am trying my best to balance those things. When some harmless denial will get me through the day, I indulge in a great big dose. Wow, relief and no hangover!
Gosh, if we knew what lay ahead in terms of possible health problems I think it would be hard to leave the house out of fear!
ReplyDeleteYour squirrel looks like a much more rugged and "beefy" variety than what we have.
Roberta - You are right! We might cower under the covers and never see the light. It was fun being so naive and thinking we would be strong and vital forever. I loved every minute of it.
ReplyDeleteThese ground squirrels don't have the cuddly look of the squirrels I had been accustomed to either. And, yes, it is clear that this fellow doesn't miss any meals.
Heh, I like Roberta's comment.... a beefcake squirrel! I see it! Looks like this squirrel works out a bit.
ReplyDeleteHey, about that aging thing, some of us are still trying to live in ignorance ok? ;-) Glad your husband is doing ok. I read the past few posts about the fires also, glad things are ok for you there.
Mark - He does look rather pugnacious. I can see him at the rodent gym throwing his weight around—lording it over those tiny voles and skinny weasels. Beefcake fits this guy.
ReplyDeleteGee, now it is "Pick on Anita". I suppose it's true that the old folks really shouldn't scare the "young'ns". :) There you go with that mind control stuff again. After I published that post it dawned on me that I was shattering innocence, and I think I broke a cardinal rule. You are supposed to keep it all secret and let the younger people "live in ignorance". It is bliss, after all.;)
We are safe and well,thanks.
Well, he is a cute little devil. I found squirrels quite useful ... for Hobbs. When they would get at the feeder, I'd let Hobbs out the backdoor with a simple command: Squirrel! He'd rush out of the door, barking all the while, looking for a squirrel. Of course, he never even came close to catching one, but it was fun to watch.
ReplyDeleteAs for the aging thing, well, it's better to be focused on 'now' anyway and not worry about what may come at a later time. :)
Paul - That is a wonderful image: Hobbs tearing after the squirrels, albeit in vain.
ReplyDeleteFocusing on now. Should be taught shouldn't it? It has always amazed me that there is so little attention given to using our minds wisely.