One late spring day in 1979, Dad slumped across his desk, crossing his arms in front of him to hold his head. He was waiting for my mother to come home from grocery shopping. "I don't feel good. Better take me to the hospital." He'd had a heart attack and would recover; but to be safe he agreed to stay in the small town hospital for observation and recuperation as the docs called it for a few days. By the end of the first week he was getting "cabin fever" as he called it and wanted to "get back to work". He started walking the halls, ate the tasteless meals put in front of him with gusto, and irritated the nurses and my mother. But, as he sat on toilet ready to prove to everyone he was ready to go home, reading the Wall Street Journal and wishing he had his smokes, he suffered a fatal blast. After 16 unconscious hours, his heart stopped and caught up with his dead brain. His aorta had become a sold out condo community for cholesterol. He was 63. I am 63. Need I say more about how I feel about my mortality?
Dad didn't drink (not because he didn't want to, but because he got horrific headaches). He wasn't overweight (he's the only person I ever knew who could loose weight just thinking). He hated fatty meat and ate all protein, from chicken and eggs to beef, shoe-leather dry. I drink (and get those headaches sometimes), have a BMI over 25, and lust after fatty almost raw red meat.
But Dad was also a control freak and work alcoholic (why else would he be at his desk on a fresh sunny Saturday afternoon and never let my mom contribute to the family income?). He smoked from sun-up to sundown (I remember waking to the click of his engraved silver WWII anniversary lighter as he grabbed a cigarette from the top of the dresser as he walked from his bed to the bathroom). He hated exercise. A favorite line was, "My idea of exercise is walking to the couch for a nap".
Can I overcome this behavioral and genetic heritage? Will I succumb to the same fate? I've got a few things in my favor. I stopped smoking in 1986 (thanks to a previous husband who didn't smoke -- one of his few attractive traits. The other one was sailing.) I've been fanatically exercising at least every other year and just bought a boat to return to sailing--a great source of exercise. I sold my last business to get off the rat race and even tried retiring several times since in the past ten years. My blood pressure is that of a teenager--no blood pressure drugs for this old girl! I've only got 5-10 pounds to loose depending upon how you define "slim" at my age. And, I swallow a Lipitor daily to keep my arteries from clogging up.
But, will that be enough? I keep wishing to get back into my athletic mode (I'm not sure hiking a hill to the metro five days a week counts as exercise). I cut the fat off my meat (except, of course, for grilled lamb chops which just aren't the same without that crispy rim around the edge). I've got a great job that has absolutely no responsibility associated with it, yet gives me a creative outlet.
I've got until November 19, 2010 to beat the odds and live to 64.
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