Yohannon (yohannon) wrote,

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And Now... HAPPY Yo!

In re-reading some of my more recent posts, I realized that I sound a lot grumpier than I really am...or really have any right to be. In the fourth "Dresden Files" book (yes, ambar, there's a fourth one out...I'll lend you my copy!) Harry notes that people tend to complain in the face of miracles...that, for example, people regularly climb into a tin can, where they breath only because it's air tight and has what amounts to an artificial atmosphere, and are only flying in the first place because of a loophole aerodynamics...yet there's always someone who will complain about the drinks.

Today I went to Dr. Jeff to get my back cracked. It seems I actually slept on it wrong Tuesday. Never mind that I was doing nothing athletic at the time...I somehow managed to pinch a nerve that made the simple act of looking leftwards extremely painful.

We got into a bit of a political argument, which distressed me a bit: I really LIKE Jeff. The distressing part was I actually agreed with some of the basic points, but (not unlike the worlds major religions) he was caught up in semantics. What surprised me was how relaxed I was... he seemed to take it personally, so I smoothed things over and made an appointment for next tuesday...though I should call it in anyway, because it hit me (as I was driving over the hill for my NEXT appointment) that we never specified a time.

Dr. Gross was seeing me for my three month check-in. You see, thanks to the way things are set up here, it's not enough that I have a permanent condition requiring maintenance medication...I have to be checked every three months to make sure I'm not, say, becoming a speed freak. The fascinating thing about this check in is the totally backwards results.

Most men facing 40 have two major issues: Blood pressure and weight gain. First, he chided me for LOSING weight, telling me I needed to eat more. Then, he threw on "the cuff".

Now, when he said "96" my first thought was that it was a bit high. But then he said "64", and I realized that the first number WAS the first number...as in 96 over 64.

It's even LOWER than it was the last time.

I was so flabbergasted I actually talked to him about it...he had to reassure me that it was a good thing.

I walked out feeling...well, better than I had in weeks. I think there's a bit of creeping hypochondriac in all of us, jumping at the first thing that looks like something horrible. Complaining about the drinks as we fly.

He asked me about how I felt about turning 40, and I realized...it didn't bother me. I felt good, was in good health, wasn't on the street, and am loved. He said when he turned 40, he took off his tie for the first time since he was twelve (I hate ties...never wear them unless I feel like playing dress up) put on jeans (my usual), and bought a hot tub (already have one). I think I'm ahead of the game.

Driving up to the city I contemplated the impossible. Yesterday, after seeing "Spy Kids 2" (beyond silly...it was a perfect antidote for the day) Michele told me about Christopher Reeve being able to feel his toes and move his extremities. Everyone considered an "expert" had told him it was impossible...now it appears it's just really difficult, and it was easier just to give people wheelchairs and let them waste away.

But now one man has done it, and it means that there might be ways to improve upon it. It always seemed odd to me that there was NO way for nerves to regenerate: It was too much of a design flaw. I know, thinking like an engineer.

But can you imagine that sheer BALLS of someone, in the face of being told it's impossible...doing it anyway?

As if I were being told to stop being so serious, the universe made me laugh. As I was hitting the city, just before 280 merges with 101, I made one of the right glances to the lane next to me...right into the eyes of a small kitten poking it's head up over the edge of a window (closed!) in the car I was passing. It was so surprising, I deliberately slowed down for another look. Just when I thought I had ben imagining things, there it was again...it was sitting in the lap of the driver, a young lady who glanced over in time to watch me laugh my ass off.

Right fucking on, whoever you were.
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