When did I suddenly become "old"? I didn't see the transition happening. It feels like just a week ago that I was bounding out of bed each morning, doing squats and pushups, humming while making coffee and taking long walks around the neighborhood. Then seemingly overnight, I'm struggling to sit up, enduring ongoing pain, shuffling between the bed and bathroom in the early hours of the morning hunched over like Patsy (King Arthur's coconut banging servant) in "Monty Python and the Holy Grail."I'm painting a bleaker picture than necessary, but I wondered last night, while lying in relative discomfort for the umpteenth night in a row, how this all came about so quickly. And how my physical circumstances are also dramatically impacting my mental well-being (which is sketchy enough without adding in more abstract chaos.)
As the "prior fusion" C2-C3 section of my spinal image shows, I have a history of spinal nerve issues. In the early 90s, I started experiencing some odd numbness in my hands when craning my neck upwards. It became disconcerting enough that I looked into root causes and medical options. An MRI identified a "congenitally narrow spinal canal" and herniated discs. 50% of this was my own doing, as I used to enjoy "cracking my neck" and disgusting friends and colleagues with the series of audible pops generated. Occasionally, I'd take an "almost running start" to maximize the effect. After five visits to 5 specialists in various disciplines ranging from acupuncture to surgery, I went with the cutter. I'm glad I did. The moment I awoke from the surgical procedure was a blissful return to full sensation and functionality of both hands. Even though one was swollen like a balloon glove from fluids misdirected by a problematic IV insertion, it all worked out wonderfully. And I went on with my life.Over the past five years, I've had occasional 'flare-ups,' isolated incidents like jumping off a bench and feeling a reverberating tingle and pain down my arms, for example. They happened enough that back in 2019, I returned to Stanford and visited their neurologists with an updated MRI. The one above. And yes, further issues were developing. Even without the added dramatics of self-induced wrenching, my neck was destined to have further issues. I knew it back in the '90s and had it reinforced in 2019. Sooner or later, I'll need additional surgery. They promoted the "later" under the auspice that there was no pressing (pun intended) need to take the aggressive step of fusing the problematic discs yet, that barring the very unlikely misfortune of an accident causing further damage, it would be better to live a 'normal' life while I can because the next level of surgical options was and will significantly restrict my heads mobility. Turning left and right, looking up and down, will be far more constrained and restricted.
I'm ok with that. I'm 61, and I'm still alive. I have stayed predominately healthy, as have most of my friends and peers. But Linda's death at 61 and a friend having had a heart attack put things in perspective. Health scares are only going to continue to be on the rise within my demographic. The fact that I might have to endure some limitations in my heads movement is a small price to pay for the opportunity to continue living an otherwise healthy and happy life.