It is often said, and of course there is medical science to show, that once you reach a certain age in life you go through the “change”. Of course as men, we always assume that sort of talk is for women who begin menopause. When it comes to men, the change is also known as the “mid life crisis”. The symptoms of these two afflictions is completely different, however the timing seems to be about the same. Of course this is just one of the many things where women point out that life is easier on men than women. When men get grey hair they look distinguished, when women get grey hair they look old, that sort of thing. And in this case, where women suffer bloating, sweating and hot flashes, men are afflicted with the sudden urge to buy a convertible find a blond bombshell to put in the passenger seat and go out to discos all night. But the whole discussion of the equanimity of the sexes is for another time. Right now we are going to talk about change.
We go through stages as we grow up. But one thing we do know, from when we are first able to formulate thought, is that we do want to grow up. We don’t want to crawl anymore, we want to get up an walk. We don’t want to have training wheels on the bike, we are big enough to ride without them, I am big enough to play on the big swings. Now I am in school, in kindergarten, I can’t wait to get into Grade one, real school, then Grade two, three….OMG I can’t wait, next year I will be in Grade Seven and we will rule this place. Grade Eight is a rude awakening, but one that is accepted because I watch the seniors and I know that one day, that will be me. I will be a senior, a Grad for God’s sake. Just gotta put in my time, just put in the years, no one can stop me. It is difficult waiting, but I know it is coming. Soon I will be old enough to get my drivers license, soon I will graduate, soon I will be 19 and won’t have to worry about fake ID anymore, soon I will be………AN ADULT.
As I lay here in my hospital bed looking out at a rather grey and gloomy day it occurs to me that when I was a kid and I wanted to get older, this shit is not what I expected. I hadn’t really considered the reality that from the time we take our first breath, we are move slowly and inexorably towards our last. For some there is very little gap between the first and last breaths, an hour, a day a week, a year.. for others it is over a hundred years, but no one knows when they will take their last breath. Some people realize that and try to fit as much into their lives as they can, others assume there will always be more time, until there is not.. It has been said many times that at the end, on the death bed, no one wishes for a better car, a bigger house, or any material goods, they simply want more time. They didn’t realize their time was growing short. I have been one of the latter.
I have been vain in believing that I have some purpose to serve here on earth, things to do people to see, great things to accomplish, and thus He cannot take me from here until I have done all I am meant to do. This has been reinforced by the fact that I have lived a life in which illness and sickness has never touched me. Well I had that appendix thing when I was 16 but, although some very humorous stories came out of that, the health part of it is hardly worth mentioning. I was active in athletics when I was younger, but I was never one to ‘workout’. I played soccer, baseball, lacrosse, golf whatever. I participated in all gym classes.
Several years later I turned 50 and it occurred to me that was a significant number. I recall my Dad’s 50th birthday party vividly, like it was yesterday. We were all hiding in the rec room in the basement of the house. He was late because he was having drinks with Father Pat. Anyway, he shows up, comes down the stairs, he was so surprised! It was fun. But I remember looking at him and thinking wow, half a century. So, although turning 50 didn’t cause me any great concern, it did occur to me that I was getting older and I should start thinking about my health a little more. This included smoking. I think my first puff of a cigarette was from one that my friends had when I was 14 or 15. I gave me a real fuzzy head feeling that I thought was pretty cool and of course it made me cool. Mom and Dad ran the bingos. For some reason they ended up with a whole bag full of cigarettes in their bedroom closet. I got to sneaking out a pack of smokes here and there until I ended up addicted to the silly things. Not that I realized I was getting hooked.. They cost fifty cents a pack when I started, and went up to seventy five. I swore that if thye ever went up to a dollar I would quit. I think I paid over $10.00 for my last pack. I started smoking Export “A” plain, switched to Export “A” filter and then Players filter. Went into the hospital when I was 16 for my appendix and switched to Players Light then. Smoked Players Light from then, I guess that would have been 1976, until I finally decided enough was enough in September 2009.
I did think about doing more about my health. Got a gym membership, got a private trainer for a little bit. I just couldn’t stay committed to the exercise program. Started to give more thought to exercise last winter and decided I would start doing more hiking and walking in the Spring and summer.
Now we come to “The Change”
In December 2011 Arletha and I decide to take a trip to Vegas in February. It will be only our second trip with just the two of us in 24 years. The timing will have us in Las Vegas for Arletha's birthday. It should be so much fun. Renting a convertible to drive in the desert, see the Hoover Dam, go out for good food, relax in a nice room, maybe see a show or two. Everything seemed normal. No reason to think anything weird was going to happen. Everyday you get up and think about what you have to do that day, you do not wake up thinking that today is the day that your entire life is about to suddenly change in every way possible. Everything you think and believe is about to be challenged. That is what happened February 25, 2012,
The Saturday before we are to leave for our trip to Las Vegas Sechelt Bellingham Washington the next day and will be flying from there to Las Vegas
Put in a little work in the office on the morning of February 24 due to the missed time over the week. No big deal. We finally get on the road and we are on our way. The trip to the Best Western at Bellis Fair Mall was uneventful except that I still didn’t feel very good. By the time we get checked into the hotel and get our bags into the room, I am not feeling too well, so going out for supper is out. We have a brief “discussion” about cancelling the trip and going home, however I tell Arletha that I am not giving up on this trip that we had planned for months, so easily. I had spent a lot of time looking into the things we were going to do and the places we were going to see, and I was not going to let some stupid poorly timed cold stop us. Bless her heart, she wanted the trip too and so against her better judgment, she allowed me to talk her into it. The following morning the hotel had a great breakfast buffet on, but I just couldn’t eat. After breakfast we catch the shuttle to the airport. We finally get on the plane and I am soooo happy that we are on our way and I can sit and rest. The first part of the trip is quiet and peaceful and I took a couple of photos out the window with my phone.
Then I am not sure what happened….I started to feel weak and dizzy and breathing was getting difficult. I asked Arletha to get a glass of water from the stewardess. My darling Newfie wife sometimes has trouble getting people to understand her needs. In this case, the request for a glass of water is interpreted by the stewardess as a request to purchase a bottle of water. No they don’t take Canadian funds. Then, you have to have the correct amount of money or else she will come back later after she gets some change. This little exchange would have been quite comical, if not for the fact that I really did need something to drink. Arletha finally loses her temper, the stewardess looks over at me, and by the look on her face I assume my colour was off. Away goes the stewardess and a new one arrives shortly with a portable bottle of oxygen and insists that I put the mask over my face and breathe. I remember quite clearly giving Arletha the old “evil eye”, which I know she correctly translated as “How could you do this to me and make me look so stupid in front of all of these people”. She returned my glare with one of her own which I easily knew meant “I don’t care what you think, you are not dying on my watch and leaving me alone”
I must admit that after breathing the O2 for a while I was feeling better and I thanked Arletha and the staff. Arletha even apologized to the stewardess. All in all it seemed that things were going to work out just fine. However I soon discovered to my chagrin, that the humiliation I felt when I had to don the O2 mask was nothing compared to the announcement over the PA upon landing that “Due to an on board medical emergency, we ask that you remain seated until we have had the opportunity to have the medical staff deal with the situation” OH Crap, everyone is looking over as they discover I am the medical emergency. Then they bring on a wheel chair and wheel me just outside the airplane doors onto the jetway. Here I am greeted by paramedics who start taking vital signs. Well they are doing their thing, the rest of the passengers begin deplaning, which means walking right by me as I sat in the wheelchair looking pitiful with the mask on my face. How humiliating! They tell me I have a fever, my heart is racing and my blood pressure is sky high (pun intended). It is their recommendation that they take me to a hospital. As I have never been sick before, I am having great difficulty believing that I could possibly be sick enough to warrant going to a hospital when we just got here. Why don’t we just go to our hotel room and I promise I will take it easy for a few days, I am sure this will pass. Some day I must apologize to the paramedics who were just doing their job, because I was treating them like a tow truck driver trying to talk me into towing my car to the shop of their choice. Thankfully they ignored me and just stuck to good old pragmatism, which generally works for me. “wouldn’t it be best to just go to the hospital and get checked out now at the beginning of the trip and then you can enjoy the rest of your trip without any health worries?” Well OK I said, seeing the sense in that. So do not pass go, do not collect your luggage, proceed directly to the hospital.
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