Mortality

I got an email from an acquaintance this afternoon...it was blasted to a group of his friends and acquaintances...informing me that he is going in for surgery to replace a heart valve tomorrow morning. Having had open heart surgery myself, I know it's scary, despite the fact that most of the time such surgeries go well and without a hitch. I don't know how other people feel just before they go in for surgery...but I know that I was worried that I might die on the table and leave my wife in a terrible situation. One of my brothers who had serious surgery a few years ago revealed that he, too, was worried going in that he might not come out of it.

For some people, even if they have such fears, it's relatively easy to disguise. I tried to disguise mine, but my emotions usually flood out of me like water from a fire hose, so I don't know how well I hid my fear before my surgery. I suspect I hid it relatively well, because the doctors and nurses juiced me up early and often with drugs that put me in the twilight zone. My imagination was active, but my tear ducts were probably dry.

When my wife had major surgery for cancer a few years ago, I tried to keep a stiff upper lip while the medical staff prepped her for surgery, but I think I failed rather miserably. It's just damn hard to watch someone you love being rolled away to an operating room where you know they will be sedated and they will be in danger. That sort of thing makes tears well up just thinking about it.

My buddy will, I hope, be just fine and will be back playing golf in six weeks or so. But hearing that he is about to have either a mechanical valve or a pig valve placed in his heart gives me pause...this stuff is serious. Despite extraordinary advances in medicine in recent years, it's still obvious that none of us make it out of this life alive. We just don't know when the power will shut off. So, we're all mortal, are we? 'pears to be the case.

Some of us think we're preparing for a whole new 'life' when this one ends. Not me. I expect it's just over when it's over. And like one of John Prine's songs says, I want them to distribute my parts to anyone who needs them when my time comes. And anything not needed should be disposed of in the least expensive and least traumatic way possible for those I've left behind. I would hope there will be a party, though.