This item was stimulated by a reference "Living Intimately With thoughts Of Death."* Also a reference is included in a "Death Attitude Profile - Revised" you can take.**
I was a sickly child. In the 2nd and 3rd grades, I ran through all the common communicable diseases: mumps, measles, whooping cough, chickenpox. In those days you were quarantined for 4 to 6 weeks each time so I missed a lot of schooling. I probably only passed because the grading system we had had a provision of working up to abilities. Slowly I began to recover from all that missed time and in the 4th grade, the teacher was having each student write down four numbers. When she got to me, she said one-quarter, one-quarter, one-quarter, one-quarter. I paid particular attention to the smart kids who were getting numbers like 3 and 5. I couldn't stand it, being far-and-away the worst kid in the class so I timidly asked the teacher what these numbers meant, and she said they were the number of days I missed from school each quarter. Whew!
When I was 21, I suffered my first collapse of the lung. Most people are unaware that the human lung consists of five lobes and not just two sacks. In my case, two of the three lobes on my right side mostly collapsed. Thus I was not in danger of suffocating (as some TV shows would lead you to believe).
Though not in danger of death, the experience is unpleasant. Air and some moisture get into the pleural cavity with the result that you can have considerable pain some of the time, similar to pleurisy. Also, a collapsed lung plays havoc with your conditioning. I walked around all right on the level, but climbing stairs was exhausting and could also be painful.
The "normal" correction for a collapsed lung was to fill the cavity with ping pong balls; however, the specialist I went to had a theory the hole in the lung would heal and the lung inflate. Indeed, eventually, it did reinflate but recapturing my conditioning took much longer.
At times I would have jolts of pain on my right side. I found that if I breathed in slowly, I could work that pain away. My specialist concluded I had lesions on my lungs. When you breathe out, the lobes fold up like a glove and when you breathe in, the "glove" unfolds. In my case, sometimes the lesions would stick the lobe together preventing full inflation with a consequence of a lot of sharp pain when I breathed in..
A year later, I had a second collapse, but this time on my left side where there are two lobes (to make room for the heart). It was described as a 40% collapse that, I guess, means the lobe didn't completely collapse. I was taking a course in fluid mechanics at the time and loved it. I would stay up until two or three in the morning to work on problems so I wasn't getting anywhere near eight hours of sleep at night. My GP told me that, if I didn't go to bed at 9:00 PM every night, I should find a new physician. I did as ordered while fearing that I would flunk out because I was getting only B's and C's as it was; however, I started getting A's and B's. I figured out that I had been exhausted and couldn't really think whereas, with a good night's sleep, I could think more clearly.
But I continued to have lung collapses until I would feel displeasure in my pleural cavity, but they could not detect collapse. They figured the lobes had become adhered to my chest cavity so I was having "blowouts" rather than collapses.
And so the "blowouts " continued irregularly, sometimes when I was working physically, like shoveling snow, but to have a collapse did not require violent activity. Once a leak occurred when I bent over to pick up a shawl for my maternal grandmother.
In my mind, I think I had more than 30 of these incidents by the age of 35, but that would have required somewhat more than two "blowouts" a year. Well, maybe.
I was in the NROTC my first two years in college but, after those first two years, you have to take a physical to continue. What with my collapsed lungs and blowouts in addition to some more minor things, I failed the physical, but I was surprised to find out I could join the Naval Reserve, which I did but never served any active duty.
When I was about to graduate from college, I applied for a job at "Big Oil" (It doesn't matter which corporation.) as they share information on applicants. Once again I had to take a physical. This time the examining physician said that if I lived to 35 I would probably be immobilized in a wheelchair. Thus I became blackballed by big oil as they shared information on applicants.
Then as I was approaching my 35th birthday, I was on a flight to somewhere and I looked down out of the plane window, I thought how nice it would be if the plane just crashed and end it all. Then I felt guilty because of all the other innocent people that would have to die with me.
As it turned out, I felt pretty good at 35 and, in fact, was about to enter around 30 yrs of good health. Once in my 50s, I even had a comprehensive blood test when everything was in the normal range. I sent a copy of this to my physician brother, older than I, and all he said was that the Biliubin was at the high end of normal. He often was telling me that I had 2 or 3 of the symptoms of some dread disease. Fortunately, I never had all.
Males on both sides of my family have been wracked with alcoholism. Looking back on my period in science administration, I can see I was drinking alcoholically. As it turned out, this seemed to be stress related to the administrative jobs. Fortunately, once out of science administration, my drinking entered a slow decline. When I entered our retirement home, I was drinking about two glasses of wine a night (one before dinner and one with dinner). I was gaining about a pound a month at the retirement home so I cut back to one 6-oz glass of dark red wine*** at night with dinner. Much to my surprise, I am happy with that. My ability to cut back may also contribute to my longevity and does not seem to be related to my arthritis.***
When health problems returned they were of a different sort, this time progressive osteoarthritis. I finally use a powered wheelchair anytime I have to walk more than 50 ft. I got the chair in May of 2016 when I was 85 and am still not confined to it.
My major activity is writing and I have published three little books plus my blog "Reunite Gondwanaland" (http://stopcontinentaldrift.blogspot.com/). I have given thought to come out with one last book on the Best of Reunite Gondwanaland and have assembled a number of pieces. We'll see. But this is the 10th Anniversary year of the blog.
As I wrote this, I am well passed my 88th birthday and counting. I feel like I could go a long time yet. Aside from my arthritis, life is pleasant, and painkillers have taken away the sting of arthritis. In my wildest dreams, however, I never figured I would live to see 80 though I hoped to make it to 70 and the new Millenium. No male on either side of my family has lived to 75, but my brother came close at 74 yrs and 4 mo. Thus I have lived for at least 13 yrs longer than I had any reason to expect. If my life were to end now, I think I would feel that I made a good run at it and have no complaints. But I am in no rush. Like we all, however, I would prefer a painless death in my sleep when it comes.
(Note: I have skipped over most details of my life. Many biographical items can be found in the blog "Reunite Gondwanaland" Table Of Contents.)
* https://www.nytimes.com/2019/07/25/well/live/living-intimately-with-thoughts-of-death.html?action=click&module=Discovery&pgtype=Homepage
** http://www.drpaulwong.com/documents/wong-scales/death-attitude-profile-revised-scale.pdf
*** http://theconversation.com/why-a-glass-of-red-wine-is-good-for-your-gut-122072
https://www.therecoveryvillage.com/drug-addiction/alcohol-and-arthritis-does-alcohol-affect-arthritis/#gref
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