I am pretty much over my appendectomy. I still have to take
it easy for another week or so but I’m getting near 100%. I'd estimate that I'm at 80% or so. I probably should have gone
to work today but I just was not quite in the mood. Tomorrow for sure.
Today I drove over to Coldspring Park; about a five minute
drive from my apartment. I could have walked to the park but I’m just not quite
up to it yet. I bundled up with the intent of doing a little hiking around. I took
my binoculars in hopes of seeing some birds, maybe even an early spring arrival.
There aren't many people enjoying the outdoors on a cold
weekday afternoon. The park was very quiet. Actually, it seemed kind of a
lonely place. As I was walking along, I got to thinking about what one of the
doctors said when I was in recovery from my appendectomy an hour or so after my surgery. He said that if I had
waited a few more hours to come into the hospital, I could have been in big
trouble. I think “big trouble” really meant “dead”. That triggered other
thoughts, thoughts I've occasionally had before. As I meandered along, I got to
thinking about how it has been over ten years since high school. I can vividly
remember conversations I had with my friends while in high school. I can recall
facial expressions during the conversations and everything. It is as if that
silly yakking took place yesterday. The fact that it took place ten years ago
is just a little bit scary. Such thoughts make me aware of my own mortality; that I have only so much time on planet Earth.
I have heard said that a person should consider his or her
future, but always appreciate the day because tomorrow is promised to no one. It’s when I start having somewhat morose, almost creepy thoughts that I
realize such philosophies have merit. Paradoxically, if I think about my own
mortality too much, it hurts my appreciation of the day.
I spotted either a Cooper’s hawk or a sharp-shinned hawk, I’m
not sure which. They look a lot alike from a distance. It was good seeing him,
whatever he was.
No comments:
Post a Comment