What’s Normal? It’s a fantasy. There is no normal, at least not a single thing for everyone and everything. It’s what you make of it. Normal for you, likely isn’t normal me or John Doe down the street. These last few months, normal is trying to come to terms with this sudden detour on the road of life. This detour sends me into an unfamiliar neighborhood. One where Dad isn’t here and I’m fast approaching 40. A friend once told me that getting another year older never seems to phase him until that first number flips to the next. I disagreed because 20 and 30 didn’t seem to register with me, one way or the other. But, with 39 around the corner and 40 right on its heels, I’m beginning to feel the creep of that first number starting to flip to the next.
New Year, New Changes
The new year brought a change in habits. I stopped smoking and am vaping exclusively now. While vaping isn’t 100% healthy, it’s better than cigarettes and at least I’ve lost the smokers cough. One of our pseudo-adopted kids recently got in my ear about a diet that he swears by; The Keto Diet. I’d like to watch the first number on the scale flip backwards into the sub 200 level. 180 lbs or even less would be ideal. Researching this Keto Diet for the last few days, it actually has peaked my interest. Even for a guy like me who loves his pasta, pizza, snacks and soda. Going low carb, while daunting, should seem more so, and probably will after I get started. Keto, will also require getting back on the horse and exercising again.
What’s Up, Doc?
I promised Veronica I’d reluctantly, or more precisely, begrudgingly make a doctor’s appointment. When I follow through with that promise it will be my first trip to the doctor for a physical of any kind, in probably 20 years. She worries and I don’t blame her. Dad was diabetic, Grandpa was diabetic. Hell, my mom is diabetic, albeit, borderline at this point. The signs are there, and to be honest, that diagnosis may actually scare me more than anything. I saw the difficulties Dad had in controlling his, and to hear the nurses tell it, played a major role in the complications dad suffered after heart surgery.
It’s now, or never…
I watched 30 years in a truck, driving for the City of Chicago, put a beating on Dad. Just shy of 60, he couldn’t walk a medium distance without pain or taking a break, his knees were shot, his back was a mess and his hip was no better. With aches and pains slowly seeping into my daily way of life, I need to make sure I do what I can to avoid that same fate.
More than anything, losing Dad has forced me to take a long hard look at my own mortality. To be completely honest, it scares the shit out of me. More than I’ve ever let on. That being said, if I don’t do something now, tomorrow might be too late.