OK; I like to break from the norm a lot (not to mention everyone from my grandfather to my younger nephew has heard me say that “‘normal’ is a relative term”), so let me do that here one (more?) time, by starting my blog with an interactive section. Ready? Everybody now…
“Thirty days has September, April, June, & November. All the rest have thirty-one…”
Were you with me on all of that?! (I honestly know it has more, but I’m not sure exactly how it goes; I started-out learning it as something about “February” having “twenty-nine alone”, but a junior-high Spelling/Writing teacher gave us a sheet to copy once in class that had the whole thing ending in something about the month having “twenty-eight in fine, ’til Leap Year gives it twenty-nine”.)
Anyhow, I just wanted to start with that to show why this has always been the easiest month for me… As far as knowing when it ends. I would claim to not be “OCD” (to me, it ranks right up there with murders on the “Who would have/do it & admit to it it?!” list), but I do keep a pile of appointment cards right behind where I’m sitting that has the cards for my doctors’ appointments in chronological order. (No joke: I had a very-easy appointment yesterday morning, during all of which I carried that appointment’s card in my pocket. I came home, threw it in the nearby trash, & placed the card for the next appointment with that doctor in the right place in the pile, above the card for the next appointment I’d made with my eye doctor at the start of this week.)
But regardless, I don’t pay a lot of attention to when months will end. My Aunt, it seemed, had decided earlier this year to actively count-down the days left in Winter, including the number in several E-mails to my mother… However, I have spent 90% of my life in the state of Ohio, which has spent more than that whole time neighboring Pennsylvania, not to mention owning “Groundhog Day” on DVD…. All of which is to say why I don’t believe there is any proper way to count when a season (or, necessarily, a month) will end. (My best friend, I recall, used to tell me stories about a Summer we had growing-up with a lot of rain… I don’t have a clue if he was remembering that time right, or what one he said it was… But I also sit here now owning 0 pairs of sunglasses that fit, largely because I am constantly “keeping my options open” for snow in this month of August.)
Regardless, as I said, I don’t pay a lot of attention to when months start or end… As I said, that’s “easy for (me) to say” when I keep a chronological-order pile of appointment cards, as well as the simple fact that most doctors call you at least a day before your appointment to remind you. (The other side, of course, is that most cards & calls say to give 24-hours notice if you have to cancel/reschedule. I actually had a doc’s office call earlier this year to reschedule within 5 hours of the appointment on the same day; Why does the AMA not allow me to charge him or his insurance for all the time I wasted prior thinking about that appointment?!)
For the third time (I wonder what, if any, “charm” that will bring me or this blog), I write that I don’t pay a lot of attention to when months end. As Everclear sang years ago, “You believe what you wanna believe…”, but I’m telling you in my case that has nothing to do with the Summer/better weather ending, or football season starting (for my Steelers or my alma mater); As you’re probably betting if you read my blog all that often, it’s got more to do with my life.
When I was home from my appointment yesterday afternoon, I looked at the new top card on the list. (Yes, I admittedly have considered watching them “fight it out” for the position, as in so many books I’ve read & movies I’ve seen, but unlike the recent “Lego movie”, it has yet to happen.) The date for that one reads, “9-30″. I asked Mom how that was possible, since my watch told me yesterday was the 27th (meaning the 30th fell on/in a weekend), & she said the appointment “might be for September”. (As I told a nurse at tests I had on Wednesday, I’ve lost watches at a few appointments, hospitals, & things; I never gave thought to needing any more than the day/date on the screen when replacing them.) I figured that was the case, mentally-checked to see if that was a weekday, & moved on.
Thinking about that again this afternoon, I realized the weekend is mine… Not only that (that’s the case a lot), but most of the month of September is mine; Not only do I not have an appointment for 4 weeks, but it appears (if TVLine.com is any indication) many TV shows don’t return until that same week! Many in my position, such as my Dad & any other relatives who still work, might be celebrating that…
…Which comes back to my long-held belief of “normal” being a relative term. (I admittedly think that a lot as a movie “tag line”, for something like, “‘Normal’ is a relative term…. Unless you have THESE relatives.”) I have never worked (well, in actuality, I worked for a company, but they left town a while back, & didn’t pay me in 20 years), so a lot of my time is mine. (I tend to think my medical history & related appointments, etc., are worth the highest “minimum wages” internationally, as I read about in a recent Rolling Stone article.) However, if you’ve been reading my blogs recently, you’ll realize I believe my time is limited. (When making new appointments, I am less-curious if I have another one already made for that day than if I won’t already be in the local morgue at that hour.)
That is to say (entirely-honestly) that I even break away from what is “normal” for me. For instance, yesterday, I went to my older nephew’s soccer game. Even though the sun was out & it’d been perfectly-warm when I was out that morning, I took my jacket out to the playing surface with me, reminding Mom “I’m a ‘have it & not need it’ type of guy”. That said, I’ve become less of one in many recent instances; While many people might describe themselves that way, I already have 2 phone calls I plan to make next week: One is to my eye doctor, asking to be reminded what kind of compresses (cold/warm) he suggested I use on my eyes this past Monday. The other is to the local “Regional Airport”, to see if they can put me in contact with someone who could help me schedule a skydiving trip…
…Again, I am being entirely honest. When I was only slightly older than my older nephew is now, I admitted to being “afraid of heights” (even indoors), a statement I maintained was true until earlier this month. However, I am currently awaiting results of tests I had about 52 hours ago (paperwork said I’d get them at the next appointment), & honestly wondering if I’ll literally live to see that next appointment. Don’t get me wrong: As I told my Dad at something we went to last week, I believe I’m taking care of any-&-all medical problems I’ve been told I have as best I can. I’m just curious if I don’t (& honestly believing I do) have some problems my doctors have not IDed (or even been made-aware of themselves) yet.
To paraphrase myself here, the “options (& the odds) are open” that I have one of the thousands I’ve never had discussed/tested-for… What good is giving me the results in 6 weeks if I only live to see the next 4?!
Well, I gotta go for now; Ma brought Lunch home, & we all know I’m alive now, so it’d probably be better if I had some energy (& checked my blood-sugar numbers) for the next couple of hours.