One of my long-time physio friends died earlier this month, only four months after she had initial medical investigations for vague abdominal discomfort. I accompanied her to the cancer clinic on April 2nd, when she was given a diagnosis of stage four pancreatic cancer with a very limited life expectancy. Her lifestyle was pristine: no smoking, alcohol, or drugs, a healthy diet, an ideal body weight, and daily exercise that included swimming and running up nine flights of stairs to her apartment. She was single, but had strong social ties and a meaningful faith in God. She ticked off all the boxes when it came to healthy, purposeful living. It is human nature to attach blame or try to explain the reasons for illness. But as we get older, genetic and environmental factors accumulate, and our bodily functions inevitably deteriorate.
Longevity influencer Bryan Johnson, 48, has reportedly spent millions of dollars optimizing his health to achieve immortality. Recently, he was diagnosed with autoimmune gastritis, a disease that causes irreversible damage to the lining of the stomach. The truth is, we are not immortal and facing that fact is healthy and necessary. I grew up around people who believed that illness and death were failures of faith in God's healing power. This created an unnecessary burden of guilt for people who suffered from physical and mental disorders.
I learned a lot from reading various books on death and dying, and have gained wisdom and insight from excellent physicians and chaplains in my workplaces. My friend had an amazing palliative care team in the community and hospice where she died. I had the privilege of being with her during her medical assessments and appreciated the honest, supportive physical and emotional care she received. Her funeral was on July 10th, and my main regret is that she did not get to enjoy the wonderful tributes and memories shared by friends, colleagues, and patients after her death.
My inner self is still a couple of decades younger than the person I see in the mirror. But lately, my body's support structures have been wearing down. A year ago, my husband and I spent two weeks in Newfoundland and travelled the length and breadth of the province. We stayed in St. Anthony in the Great Northern Peninsula. There is a good-sized hospital in the small town that provides fly-in care for people in remote parts of Labrador and Newfoundland. I walked the length of the main street from our hotel to the hospital. An older man slowed down as he drove by and said in a friendly, Newfie way,
"Darlin', you cripple? You need a ride?
No, he wasn't creepy, and I thanked him as I declined his offer. But he rightly observed my abnormal gait pattern from my out-of-alignment arthritic knees. Even my granddaughter has asked,
"Nana, why are your legs crooked?"
I had no problem seeing that my mother had similar knee joint issues, but I have minimized my symptoms for years. I finally bit the bullet in April and got a referral to an orthopedic surgeon. My first knee replacement is scheduled on the 29th of this month. The second one will be about three months later if all goes well. I treated many patients post-knee replacement in my career and am aware of everything that can go wrong, but the probability of a good outcome is high. I have chosen a Toronto hospital that offers robot-assisted knee replacements as day surgery. The postoperative period of intense exercise is important and is mainly my responsibility.
Most people want a reasonable quality of life in their senior years. I prefer degenerated joints to a degenerated mind. Moses blessed the tribe of Asher with the following words:
"As your days, so shall your strength be."
And that is my prayer each day.
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| Playing Granny Pants with my granddaughter on Canada Day |
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