Never one to indulge in vulnerability – even that slip of the word ‘indulge’ gives an indication of my bias against such tendencies – I nonetheless found myself in the very typical mid-life moment of standing in a doctor’s office stripped of all but a one-sided ill-fitting and scratchy caftan, waiting for the next medical person to come in and examine me. Even my socks had to be off for the EKG, so I stood there slightly shivering, feeling both the oldest I’ve ever been and just like a child again. Thus far it had been a mostly comical affair – the very young medical assistant had taken my blood pressure and said it was ok “for my age” before instructing me on the mechanics of the medical gown. Now as I waited for the Nurse Practitioner, awkwardly standing in the middle of the room, it wasn’t the nakedness of my body that left me feeling vulnerable, it was the powerlessness we all had against time, and the way that no matter how well I took care of myself, the time my physical being had here was finite and rather small. For perhaps the first time, I felt the futility of life – but it wasn’t something sad or mournful somehow. It also didn’t feel scary like it does for some people, and like it once did for myself.
It was one of those strange contemplative moments where you feel at once at peace, while a nagging little worry and wonder runs as an undercurrent through it all – nothing to disturb the surface, nothing to disturb the peace – and it’s a lovely little encapsulation of my life journey at this point. Nowhere approaching perfection, not even bothering with such a nonsensical goal, and nowhere near the raw beginning of egotistical idiocy I once attempted to embody, this is a calm if slightly messy space. I found a calm and comfort even in this ridiculous medical gown I awkwardly attempted to hold together behind my back to keep warm. We are such silly, awkward creatures, throwing ourselves into such silly and awkward actions in order to survive, to stay healthy, to prolong life. It is our instinct to endure, even the most self-destructive among us, and as I shared the physical and mental journey of the past few years with the NP, I felt a profound sense of peace and accomplishment, along with the desire and wish to improve.
By the end of the exam, when I felt entirely at ease and comfortable, the NP took my blood pressure again and it was actually worse than it had been at the beginning. Yup, that sounded just about right for where 2021 had brought me – room for improvement, room for acknowledgment, and room for the laugh I let out as my 45-year-old self suddenly saw himself and his present predicament.
