Feeling fine

In a recent blog, I mentioned some dental issues over the Labor Day weekend. Well, that experience turned out to carry a valuable lesson (which, of course, I will now share).

My dental pain that weekend was followed by a root canal, followed by an infection that set my nerves on fire and kept me awake at night. The many drugs I took to deal with it all made me queasy. The combination of pain, infection, lack of sleep, nausea, and med-induced zinginess made me feel … um … really awful. One morning I actually had a passing thought that I’d rather be dead than feel that bad. A slight exaggeration, I admit, motivated by my misery. But I did feel miserable.

A few days later, with the infection coming under control and my diet adjusted to help me tolerate the meds, I started feeling much better. My mouth/jaw/head still hurt between doses of ibuprofen, but I noticed that I actually felt, overall, physiologically fine. I had energy and enthusiasm again, and I actually liked my day. Noticing that change, I started reflecting on this thing we so lightly call the “gift” of good health. Despite this current mouth problem, despite a handful of orthopedic aches and pains, and despite my lower endurance and slower recovery, I am fortunate to almost always feel fine.

What an amazing thing, I thought. When someone asks me, “How are you?” and I answer “Fine,” it’s both a trivial, throw-away response and an accurate description. Virtually every day, I get up and—regardless of whether I like what I see in the day ahead or don’t—I walk through my life feeling physically fine. I may hate some moments for various reasons, and I may whimper about the physical reminders of aging, but my health is, overall, excellent. And that means that I don’t have to think about it. I take it for granted.

Such a contrast to the experience of folks for whom that is not the case—folks with daily chronic pain, daily struggles with enduring illness and persistent medical conditions. I understand that some day, that may well be true of me, too. Meanwhile, that recent day of deep misery was an excellent reminder of what a privilege it is to feel, mostly, good. I promised myself to notice that gift, to remember frequently the contrast.

So today, I went for a swell 75^th birthday walk and picnic with a friend. I wasn’t sure last week whether I’d feel up to it, so it was a perfect chance for me to notice the great fortune of feeling good. It was a funky day meteorologically—foggy, showers in the forecast, way cooler than our recent temperatures of 90° and more—especially in the mountains, where we met for our walk. But the spot was lovely, the rain held off, and it was good to be outside with a good friend, who is also, at 75, enjoying generally good health.

Through it all, I noticed, I felt fine.

    

   

In fact, it was an altogether fine day.