Often, I am asked how retirement is going for me. Am I enjoying myself? Doing any traveling? Any new or exciting ventures? These are pretty much standard fare questions a retiree will get. Friends and family want to know how things are going and just for asking the questions it shows they care.
The answer to all of the questions is, yes, I am truly enjoying myself. Despite adjustments made, retirement is good. Yet, when one abruptly stops putting in a heavy rotation, sits in the dugout, it isn’t necessarily the ninth inning. Then again, sometimes the game gets stuck in a rain delay and waiting in the dugout brings its own frustrations.
Secretly though, after the polite responses, retirement has been pretty lousy so far. At least in the context of a brand new way of living. Somehow, the lineup cards got shuffled and I’m stuck on the bench. I find myself with a splinter in my rear assessing life so far from an uncomfortable spot. Put me in coach.
Contemplation for the soul.
Retiring about a year ago there’s been a steady stream of health issues. I’m tough, not complaining, but it keeps me in a constant holding pattern. First health impact comes from a child. The missus and I are raising our beautiful grandson, who picks up most germs floating around the tri-state area.
Almost immediately after retiring a slew of colds were shared with me. Sniffles aside, I was ultimately presented with that most horrendous of afflictions for someone over sixty, pneumonia. Even the way it came on was rough. Day one, I had sniffles. Day two, a full-blown cold. By day three, feeling like slime that had reached its expiration date, I was diagnosed with pneumonia. I love my grandson more than I could ever express, but this was ridiculous.
The colds and germs were attracted to me, necessitating a repeat rotation of antibiotics in hopes of curbing the attraction. Eventually, I think I beat down the germs and was hopeful that my strength and resilience would rebound.
Before I could fully recover, my back, a rather fragile element of my body, ran into some stiff times. My lower back is slowly deteriorating and the go-to cortisone shots had helped in the past. So, I went to the back doctor and received a series of shots that helped. As an added measure to combat the pain, I enrolled in physical therapy. Good fortune, I returned to the back therapists I had worked with on numerous occasions in the past. Going through the exercises was indeed helpful and I began to feel almost human again. By this time, I had been retired for about six months and counting.
Bears noting, high drama has been part and parcel of my life for the bulk of my adult years. That’s a lot of years, my friend. From family drama to friend drama, pressure at work, pressure here and there. High drama that would blindside me in a total, reckless manner. I’m not one to succumb to the flotilla of medications doctors generally prescribe to those who live with drama. Most of the time, I worked my way through troubles and came out relatively unscathed on the other side. My nerves have always been erratic and the high drama has always been an exacerbation after the fact.
Crazy as a loon.
Following the spate of colds and back problems, I didn’t think I could go anywhere but up and away. Soar above the clouds of my old life and safely upward on the wings of retirement. In other words, I was hopeful.
After things had settled down, spring was gone and a new summer upon us. Happens, I was hit again with a most debilitating illness, shingles. I was struck on the left side of my face. The pain, the weirdness, the please-let-me-out-of-my-body experience I constantly felt had me waving the white flag. Ice pick headaches, pain behind the eye, painful tingling over the affected area, it was really bad. Felt as bad or worse than the interrogation a prisoner of war must go through. By this time, if I was asked how retirement was going, I simply avoided giving any kind of answer.
Post herpetic necrophilia…or something that feels like death.
Over time, the ice pick and skull-splitting headaches gave way to a constant, dull, throbbing kind. I was elated at the improvement. Sleep had been foreign to me, but with pain a friendlier beast of sorts, pillow travel was a welcome sign. I am having success working through my troubles and trying to return to a normal life. The main nerve that was afflicted when I first got the shingles appears to be calming down.
Okay, the problem is this. What possible normal life is there to return to? Immediately after retirement, I rather forced my mindset away from the world of work and aimed for the stars. Trouble is, I never left the northern hemisphere much less the stratosphere. While trying to relax, take it all in, seems little has been taken in except germs, aches and pains. Not complaining. Into every life a little rain must fall. Some of us get drizzle while others, downpours and torrential storms. For me, I am quite humbled at hanging up the work jacket a few years early. Truly, I feel most lucky on any given day.
Actually writing once again after years of struggling to find a pen that works. Often, the struggle over time became finding the appropriate writing pad to share. I think I’ve found a few tools that were hidden. Only now, it becomes critical to find something worthwhile to say in this God forsaken landscape.
At the Desk.
Music has also been a large part of my past life and hopefully that, too, will be rekindled. The difficulty with music is that like most things it requires collaboration with those who can share the dream. Had a lot of trouble finding and sustaining that when I was working. It will be yet another challenge in this new life.
I am resolute to share myself with others. Finding the best flame to fly to, before the candle goes to wax and I am left in darkness. None of that for now. It is time to turn a few screws and find out what gets tightened and what turns loose.
Just anxious to get started and find out if this rocket ship can still climb to the stars. Trying to understand that the journey through sickness and trouble is still part of the journey. There are yet things to be learned by falling down. I’ll still grab for the inspiration wherever I find it. I will keep holding my grandson close, even if the germs flow freely. Always, I will continue to work my way through my troubles. They are mine and part of me, wouldn’t have it any other way.
Did you enjoy the post above? How about a link to other relevant posts?
Sage Advice for Graduates and Others ; Adventures at Snowshoe ; Bed of Dreams ; Books and Eyes
