Sept. 18, 2003 - 19:03 MDT

THE WONDERING JEW

Hindi Maliking Bageye

According to Quizilla my mental age is 16, heh if all the questions had been honestly answered it would probably figure out about 6 years of mentality. Around the stage where when things get frustrating and one figures out that he is not going to get his way -- he decides to be angry and decides to be angry for ever, no matter what. Even if everything starts going his way, he gonna be mad anyhow. Committed to a state of perpetual poutage I guess one might say. I can't remember my exact age, but I sure remember being there.

Every once in a while I fall into that ancient morass of self pity. Dummy me.

This morning one trait I do have came to my rescue. 'Tis the ability to laugh at my silly foibles or ridiculous situations. Something that seems to surface in times of the need for me to lighten up a bit.

I woke up laughing at my displeasure yesterday because I couldn't do now what I could once. What an oaf.

The ability to laugh under stress has stood me in good stead through my life I think.

Case in point, I underwent an hour and a half of surgery in an orthopedic surgeons office once, while he flailed around in the area surrounding the large joint of my right thumb. In the beginning he pumped a bunch of Xylocaine in the entire area. However as he went deeper in the joint the pain became intense. I asked him could he inject more Xylocaine, and received the answer that at certain depths and stages Xylocaine couldn't help. Accepting his word, I held my peace, heh, as much as I could -- an occasional groan would slip through my gritted teeth. After a time I began to laugh, at what I am not too sure, perhaps at me being in such a ridiculous position if nothing else. The surgeon, with raised eyebrows, probably thinking he had a nut case on his hands asked me, "What are you laughing about ?" I told him, "'Cause I'm too old to cry."

He finally finished and after getting dressings and on my way out I told him, "If you need to do more surgery it will only be if I am under a general anesthetic."

I knew that recovery was close when in clinical depression I began to laugh at some of the dumb things I did.

It was a bit difficult after our auto accident, coping with pain and concentrating on obeying my physical therapist kept me quite busy. After a session she would walk me around the grounds for a bit of exercise. Later, as we walked one day I broke out laughing which puzzled the lady. I explained my thoughts, "What a ridiculous sight it would be to an observer to see an old dude wearing a halo and using a cane, walking with a pretty young lady." She graciously thanked me. I had once again regained my sense of humor. I knew that from there on out I had it made.

In recent times it has been hard to find something to laugh about due to my concern over Heather's health and the recent loss of her brother. Hoping that her gall bladder surgery will once again allow her to eat what she wants without suffering. Also hope that the surgery will eliminate the pain she has had for so long.

But, this morning I woke laughing at myself, a good sign.

The phrase that began my entry was something that a parachute rigger I once worked with often said when frustrations and complications arose. He told me that it was Tagalog for, "Its no big thing." Whether is was Tagalog or not, I keep remembering when I look at my puny trouble now and then, Hindi Maliking Bageye . . . . . . . . . .

Blog