pound for pound
I am out of shape. Not in any health-endangering way, I don’t think. But just shy of the “keep your shirt on around poolside” out of shape.
This is put into sharp relief by my parents’ relative fitness. They’re reasonably close to being model specimens. Dad could have better eyesight and flexibility; Mom could have more strength. Really, though, they’re outstanding.
Physically, I identify most with my late Grandfather. He was a hefty guy. I was reassured recently when my Mom reminded me that, in addition to passing away from cancer, it was high blood pressure that dogged him all his life–no matter what weight he was. That doesn’t get me off the hook medically, but at the very least it keeps me from associating fat with mortality.
Maybe I should, though, especially with Something coming. (more…)
as luck would have it
I remind myself daily that we’re extraordinarily lucky to be in lives we have. Developed country — the United States! Nice apartment in major metropolis — Boston! Loving relationship, supportive family, decent incomes, health insurance, etc.
Day-to-day, though, it feels hard to keep things “fair.” That is, things are already more than fair by our being so fortunate. But balancing the incidentals is where things never feel clear.
For example: Today, the cat must go to the vet. The cat (#2 of 2) has been having a progressively less pleasant kitty litter experience, and my role as the designated litter-man has become entirely solidified by the threat of cat poop to pregnant women. No problem, reasonable.
But, the last few trips to the vet across town have been hellish, especially with the pair of Cat #1 and Cat #2 together. Though this is an individual cat event, I need back-up. Is it fair of me to urge the Missus to come along?
Rather, it is fair when she’s feeling ill, highly reactive to cat smells, and not doing super in the car. Still fair to ask for her help?
“Fair” probably isn’t the issue. We do respect each other, and we do care about being there for each other. Mental resources are thin right now, and replenishments from family and doctors are still weeks away. We’re on psychological rations for the next few weeks as matters — both happy and sad, worrisome and exciting — eat at our respective brains.
Nom, nom, nom.
