![]() On this diet, one’s weight loss is hampered by a remarkably short marginal life expectancy, but it’s said that a rosy glow of health can be obtained briefly. ![]() I may have to resort to sterner measures, such as the diet that requires you to eat nothing but kale. I am biased in favor of the Kwik Trip diet, which allows you to eat anything you like as long as you see them next time, but it hasn’t proven all that effective in recent months. The consumption of fewer calories is likely in the offing, which is always the difficult part of any diet. This is as far as the plan has evolved thus far, as it is still in the developmental stage. “We really should try to lose some weight,” I suggested. I was talking with a friend recently about weight loss. Others, like Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, who according to legend didn’t learn how to spell his last name until he was thirty-five, have done that and I’m happy for them. Death will be swallowed up in victory for me then, and from Heaven I won’t care that I never obtained a big name. I will, as Henry Hyde once said, soon return to the obscurity from which I came, and I’m fine with that. I will never sing at the Met, even between innings, as I used to joke before the end of the writers’ strike brought me to my senses. I will never be awarded the Nobel Prize for literature, though I am now rather consistent in my ability to write a W, and am thus at last a man of letters. ![]() I no longer need to achieve all the things I might have wished to do when I was half the age I am now. “Everyone begins life hoping to become Captain Kirk and ends up as the Priceline Negotiator,” I used to quip to my students back when this still made sense, and they would laugh nervously, dimly sensing that I determined their semester grades. By this he meant that, in time, we all have to come to terms with our inherent limitations, and thus to scale back our expectations. “Telomere the ivy twines,” I hummed in a mashup of an old song my mother used to sing to me back when I was a child and could still heal efficiently.Įlderhood, which begins with the first rib cage injury one experiences in life, is (says Swiss psychiatrist Paul Tournier, whom I have always admired) characterized by the “abandonment of the will to power”. ![]() But at least I know the underlying theory as to why my body doesn’t heal as quickly as it did when I was younger, which in an abstract way is a bit of a consolation. The cat leapt in terror from my side as I emitted a sudden cry of pain. But apparently sitting up quickly in bed, or turning too rapidly, or whatever strategic error I committed last night was too much for my rib-adjacent structures. Thankfully, I was vouchsafed some effective pain relief medication, so I’m not in agony. It has always been difficult for me to monetize my skills, but I limp along as best I can, taking painful breaths. Apparently, the market for medical humor is not what it used to be. “Well, they’re quite a mesh just now,” I replied. “They form a sort of mesh around the ribs,” the nurse explained. A week ago, when I visited my doctor (well, a nurse practitioner who works for him), I was told that the muscles and tendons and ligaments and such around the rib cage were likely torn.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |