Einstein said that information is not knowledge which I suppose plays into part of why you ought not ask Dr. Google for a diagnosis of medical conditions.
Seventeen years ago was my first experience with get on a plane and hope Dad hasn’t died by the time I have landed.
It was far more frightening in some ways and far less in others than the mad dash I made from Dallas to Los Angeles.
It was the end of Dubya’s first administration instead of the middle Trump’s only and Dad wasn’t quite 61. Though it sounded old to me I thought of it as being so young it was improbable if not impossible that he would die then.
Besides Mom told me she wasn’t going to let him die and I recognized that tone as one that he would recognize as not to mess with.
Anyhoo, not long before I got on the plane a dear friend advised me not to pay attention to the machines.
“There are going to be beeps, whistles, noises and numbers. Ignore those because it won’t be easy for you to determine whether they are good or bad. They’ll only aggravate you.”
I still see it as among the best medical advice a doctor has given me and adapted it to asking Dr. Google for a diagnosis.
Sometimes information gathering is useful and sometimes less so because unless you can evaluate what you have in hand it is hard to determine its importance.
Caught another glance at my reflection and asked myself if that is really what I look like now.
I recognize the eyes and smile, but some of the other features make me scratch my head and ask when did that happen.
When did I start to look more like a middle aged guy than almost middle aged.
Sort of doesn’t matter because I am not going to pay for cosmetic surgery or take any meds to try and get my hair back.
Hell, a kid on a Webex asked me why I made an 80s reference and didn’t believe me when I said I graduated high school in ’87.
For a moment I thought he was trying to mess with me and then I realized he wasn’t. He isn’t quite 25 so I could be 10 years younger and still be old to him.
Heck, it is only last year that a guy who is a hair short of 40 told me he would have guessed I was about 48 so maybe I don’t look so old to others.
Don’t think I carry myself as an old man and my kids tell me to act my age so I know that I am not “old, old” whatever the hell that means.
So blame it on ego, this concern about how I look and blame it on a couple of other things that have me thinking about when I ought to set up a physical.
Haven’t had one in 2.5 years now and I have a couple of things that irritate me so it is probably getting close to time to go in.
If it wasn’t for Covid19 I might have already made the appointment but have intentionally dragged my feet figuring I can get vaccinated and then go.
Won’t be perfect, I’ll still mask up, but maybe it will be better.
Either way I’ll go back in this year, better to find out if anything is going on or not.
Couldn’t decide if I had the correct spelling so surfed my way to the dictionary to confirm I was right and kept going because I know things.
Been pushing hard in a few areas and gotten push back from some and a reluctance to engage by others and thought about the consequences.
Sometimes you get what you are asking for and you need to be aware and ready for what that means.
There is a certain amount of fear and uncertainty tied into changes and risk but there is also reward.
There is also benefit and sometimes you have to take that chance. Sometimes you have to go for it or be able to live with not doing so.
I have been pretty adept at identifying what I can and cannot live with or without. I can’t stomach not trying some things.
I can’t live with not taking a swing and finding out answers or at least trying to.
