I was rushed to the hospital yesterday, from this very library-I was in terrible pain, sweating, gasping for breath, with Sarah standing about ten feet away, and I'm thinking, "What if I fall over dead, and my daughter has to see this?"
As it turned out, it wasn't a heart attack, or my appendix~I had a REALLY bad intestinal blockage. One X-ray and an enema later, I was on my way home, sore (still am), but much better.
Makes me think, though.
I can nuke a pound of weenies, wash them down with a Coke, and call it breakfast, eat steaks that're still quivering, ignore the pains, stiffness, and other hitches in my git-along, and pretend with all my might that I'm still living the NorthCoast Rock-and-Roll Lifestyle.
The tour bus stops here.
I finally have the kind of life I wanted, but never dared to dream for, and I'll not disrespect it or the good Lord Who gave it to me by acting like a teenager anymore.
I don't have to take up a life of rocking chairs and mush, but I've GOT to watch what I'm doing from now on.
I can still listen to the music....it doesn't get old, or make you fat.
Glad you're okay, Alan!
ReplyDeleteSounds like instead of Ball Park Franks for breakfast, you should sit down to a nice steaming bowl of easy-to-chew Cream of Wheat!