Paying for my sins

Today's column title is what I told my ex the other night when I was explaining my latest physical malady to her. I went for 62 years without having anything more serious than a cold or the flu and then, all of a sudden, it feels like the bottom has fallen out.

Now let me say this before I go any further. I don't like listening to people talk about their health problems and I hear it a lot. Old people especially sit around and swap stories about their most recent procedures, blood sugar levels, blood pressure rate, and everything else that has to do with their physical deterioration and I've just never seen the point of doing that. It sure doesn't change anything to talk about it and even though I suppose they get some comfort and maybe even sympathy from those around them, it doesn't last for long and then they're left to deal with it alone.

What we obviously don't want to do is face the facts. I've seen criminals who were caught dead to rights absolutely believe that they're not going to be convicted. I've seen terminally ill patients who only have weeks to live believe through some miracle that they're going to survive. I've seen athletes on teams getting soundly defeated believe they're going to win.

Now remarkable things happen occasionally but not often and absolutely not all the time. On the one hand, we think it's a good thing that the person on the wrong end of the stick never gives up and keeps on trying. On the other hand, we believe that people ought to face the facts and deal with reality, no matter how harsh that reality is.

Well, I'm in the second category. I've abused my body for a long time and I knew that it would eventually catch up with me, I just didn't know when. And I wasn't about to miss out on a good time because I was worried about something that might happen in the distant future.

Evidently, that distant future is finally here.

I went to the dentist with a bad toothache the other day. He took x-rays and then showed me the results on the monitor and it wasn't a pretty sight. I had disease way down past the bottom of two teeth and he said it was so severe they would have to be removed surgically. We made an appointment with an oral surgeon in North Platte and I drove up there the same day. When I told him about my heart attack two months earlier, he said we would have to get my cardiologist's permission for him to do an in-office procedure which is his regular method of operation. I agreed to that and left after getting prescriptions for antibiotics and pain medicine because I had been in constant pain by then for over 30 hours. I barely made it to my local pharmacy in time to get the scripts filled and was anxious to get home and take them so I could get some relief. In my hurry, I didn't read the directions correctly and took two pain pills in two hours instead of the four hours stated on the bottle. That resulted in me waking up twice in the night with chest pain that I haven't had since the stent was put in.

When the oral surgeon's nurse called me the next day to tell me about their conversation with my cardiologist, I told her about the pain I experienced and she said it was the direct result of too much pain medicine at once and "not to do that again." I assured her I wouldn't.

Then I got more bad news. The cardiologist insisted that the oral surgery take place in the hospital rather than the office because I've been on blood thinners since my heart attack and that could cause problems when I was put under with anesthetics. The problem with that is obvious. In addition to the oral surgeon's bill, a hospital bill would be added on to that and no one in the office knew whether that would be covered by insurance.

So I postponed surgery until I could talk to the insurance company today to find out what and how much will be covered before I proceed.

I hope that once I get my bad teeth taken care of, that my physical maladies will be over for awhile but if I was a betting man, and I am, I wouldn't bet on me. Hard and fast living for 62 years will take a toll on anybody and the only thing I'm thankful for is that it took its toll late instead of early. That enabled me to enjoy my life to the fullest for the longest time and now I'm prepared to take whatever Mother Nature has in store for me.

I've heard people say that if they knew they were going to live this long, they would have taken better care of themselves, but I don't belong to that camp. I've enjoyed most of the days of my life and now I'm paying the price.

Because no matter what you do, there's always a price to pay sooner or later.