Impermanence

There may come a time when some of us realize we may not live as long as we'd wanted, or expected to. It may not come as a "Eureka!" moment, perhaps more as a slow, steady registering of potential reality. I use the word "potential" deliberately, as none of us knows precisely what the future holds. Still, we can have a fairly good idea after a certain point.

My paternal grandfather, Oscar, died aged 53, back in 1961, over a decade before I was born. My aunt Charlease talked with me about the day he died. She wasn't sure what felled him, but that whatever it was -- a suspected heart attack or a stroke -- it was quick. My dad passed away aged 52. Cancer. With those kind of genes, I haven't necessarily thought of having the life expectancy of Methuselah, though one lives in hope of something more than their early fifties. My paternal grandmother died just one week short of her 101st birthday, and her mom (whom I knew as a small boy) lived to be in her 90s.

For a time, I lived in hope of inheriting the genes of Grandma Callie and Mama Ed (the aforementioned grandmother and great-grandmother), though those hopes began to be dashed in early 2010, when I was diagnosed with cancer. After undergoing surgery to remove my thyroid, and radiation ablation to remove any remaining tissue, I didn't feel quite the same for several years. 'Well,' I thought, 'this isn't looking good for longevity, having cancer in your thirties, especially when cancer is what took your father.'

Fast forward to 2017, when some routine lab work turned-up troubling results. My kidneys were leaking a lot of protein, which is often an indicator of kidney disease. I wasn't referred to a Nephrologist at the time, but was encouraged to lose weight, which I did. 80 pounds over the course of two years. I need to lose more, but the pandemic kind of threw a wrench into things. I'm a stress eater and, well, the last two years have been somewhat stressful. Still, I'm working on it, little by little.

Last year I began seeing a Nephrologist, and they've been putting me through the paces when it comes to tests. Regular blood work and urine labs, and a kidney biopsy (where they sedate you, lay you on your stomach, stick a needle through you, and take a rice-sized sample of your kidney for studying). The result? It's as they suspected: I have Chronic Kidney Disease, Stage 3 (there are 5 stages), and my current kidney function is approximately 36%. When it gets down to 20% they recommend dialysis.

So, it's been kind of a slow reckoning that I'll likely not reach 100 years of age like my paternal grandmother, though I'm not sure that's altogether desirable. Still... I'd prefer something a bit better than to go in my fifties. When I last saw the Nephrologist, I remarked, "So I'm not going to be someone who lives to be 80." Her response was, 'Why?" She seemed to genuinely not want to close any doors, so perhaps that's hopeful? Or maybe she's just being nice? I don't know.

It remains unclear how long before I'll need dialysis, and perhaps a kidney transplant. This is something I've discussed with the kidney specialist, and it seems like it could be 5 years, or it could be decades from now. Difficult to tell. I am continuing to keep an eye on my weight, both maintaining where I'm at, and also trying to lose some more. I really should drop another 50 pounds, to be in my ideal weight range. That seems a bit intimidating, but we'll see how it goes.

All of this doesn't preclude the possibility that something else could come along in the meantime. Our bodies are complex, organic machines, with lots of moving parts. My chiropractor once said that it's kind of amazing when something isn't going wrong with the human body. I've broached with my primary doctor the possibility of looking into genetic testing for pancreatic cancer, which is what my dad died of. She's looking into that. It's all about what insurance will and won't cover.

As for now, I feel fine. I got into the habit, starting in 2017, of walking every day. It helps keep the extra weight off, and makes me feel good during and afterward. I just got back from a nice trip to Memphis, where I walked a lot. It was fun seeing the sights, and enjoying the delicious Southern food on offer. Walking is something I do not take for granted. I've seen too many people I know not be able to do it (for a variety of reasons), and also experienced difficulty walking during my treatment for cancer twelve years ago. Putting one foot in front of the other is indeed a blessing.

Most of us experience illness of some sort during our lives. Modern medicine is great at helping us get through it. Sometimes, unfortunately, we don't. That is to be expected, given none of us make it our of this world alive, though it is still sad, particularly when a life ends prematurely. Ultimately, I feel fortunate. Life's been good for me, and I hope it will continue to be so, at least for awhile. There are places to go, people to see, and experiences to be had before it's over. And perhaps it will all be over sooner rather than later.

As Gowron once said, "Perhaps, but not today."