For Better or Worse

It must be my personality. I can think of no other earthly reason why my poor wife still puts up with me.

I just returned from the latest episode in the ever expanding story of 'as the body dissolves'. This time, my old and dear friend, and gastroenterologist, Dr. Steve Fink, spent part of the morning probing inside of me (literally) to see what was causing the recent significant stomach distress I have been experiencing. Fortunately, it appears he found mostly empty space and nothing to write home about (or, I guess in my case, something to write to you about).

Over the past 2 years, I feel like I have been a walking encyclopedia of medical issues. First, the elevated prostate scare. Then, the partially torn rotator cuff from my attempt to fly great lengths through the air with skis attached. This was followed shortly thereafter by the incision in my back to address the removal of the disc that had taken up permanent residence on my nerve endings. Now, after months of painkillers to handle some continuing discomfort, it seems I have caused my intestinal tract to rebel. Through it all, Joanne moves forward, head down, shoulders bowed from carrying the weight of me around each and every day. She can't find this very romantic.

While I am usually helpless around the house, these series of maladies, large and small, have only exacerbated my do-nothingness to new heights, or more accurately, to new depths. Thus, my physical limitations have been matched only by my inertia.

When Jo signed up for this assignment over 32 years ago, I don't think this was quite what she envisioned. She often relates to me the words of her brother, who has gone through more than his own share of physical issues. He told her that the warranty runs out at 40. For me, it seems I lasted until 55 in pretty decent shape. But, since then, whew boy.

Jo is left these days mostly with my sense of humor (which she often finds to be senseless), my good disposition (which is good only when it is not bad), and my constant companionship. We speak of having actually been married 64 years, since we spend so many hours together, working in the same office during the days, and then heading home to spend the nights with one another. She gets no breaks from the joy of me.

For better or worse, til death do us part. I am looking forward to the golden years with my bride, when the 2 of us walk hand in hand (she will probably be holding me up) into the sunset, spending endless days and nights with each other.Unfortunately, if I don't shape up soon, endless may have a different meaning for Jo than me.