They always talk about retirement as the “Golden Years. I’m beginning to understand why. My level of stress has dropped to practically nothing. My health is fine. We have no pressing money woes. I have lots of freedom to do whatever I want, and most of what I do is pleasing. We have darling grandchildren to ooh and aah about. All in all, I’d have to say that life has gotten pretty smooth and shiny.
This past week, though, has been a bleep on the radar. Suddenly, nearly all the pleasant pieces of my life collapsed all at once. Sort of like Humpty Dumpty, falling off the wall. The opthamologist had warned me that I’d be needed cataract surgery soon, but I didn’t believe him until my closeup vision got too blurry to read the morning newspaper. Then I developed a pain in my right heel which turned into a severe limp and eliminated taking the dogs around the neighborhood, hiking in the forest, walking to and from my office, and, worst of all, having to skip line dancing for two weeks in a row. If all that wasn’t bad enough, I’ve been displaced from my office while the painters and movers do their thing, so I’ve been barred from my home away from home. That’s practically my entire life gone down the tubes: doggies, reading, line dancing, office, hikes, etc.
Just as I was thinking that nothing else could go wrong, I reached for something on my desk at home and managed to knock over a full cup of coffee on my computer keyboard. I leaped up, grabbed a roll of paper towels from the hallway cupboard, and started soaking up liquid. I lifted the keyboard up, held it on end, and watched a couple of teaspoons of hot coffee slowly drain out onto the desk. I called one of my computer expert friends, and she advised me to use a blow dryer on it, then let it dry out for 24 hours. I followed the instructions to a T, but no luck. Fourteen keys did still work, but that’s not enough. I can’t tell you how horrendous it is to not have a computer for three days. My blog work was totally halted. I couldn’t send or reply to e-mails. No Google or Yahoo searches, no Wikipedia, no e-Bay, no checking the movie schedule, basically nothing. I just shut the machine down, then got entirely frazzled about what to do next. I can’t even remember what I used to do before we got a home computer. We rushed to the Apple Store as soon as it opened on Monday morning, and, for what suddenly seemed a bargain price of $50, they remedied my technological catastrophe.
Now life is again on the upswing. I expect to hear from the cataract surgeon soon and get my eye surgery scheduled. My foot is nearly back to normal, and I bought a pair of $111 running shoes to pamper it even more. I plan to return to line dancing next week and to resume all my other normal walking activities. The dogs will be happier and less barky. The painter finished my new office, my work computer is hooked up, and I’m in the process of unpacking endless boxes of stuff. I guess that having everything fall apart at once makes you appreciate things much more when they return to normal. They couldn’t get Humpty together again, but, fortunately, that’s the difference between an egg and a human being.
-Phyllis S-S (2-25): Dave, A bad, bad week - so glad it's better..... pss
-Jennifer M (2-24): I didn't know about the surgery! When?
-DCL to JM (2-24): Not scheduled yet. I’m eager to get it done.
-Terry O-S (2-24): Hi David - Just one of my periodic fan notes about how much I enjoy your blog. The picture of your Dad, my Dad and Pat Steffke in their uniforms ( I don't think I had previously realized that you and, I think, Peter were also in the picture) in the front yard at the River House is one of my life long favorites. I recall that for several years after the war all of them were determined to get into their uniforms for the Memorial Day events. I'm glad that your Humpty-Dumpty period is winding down and you can return to your deserved blissful retirement routine. Best. Terry