The Flip Side of Forty: The anti-anesthesia gene

Thursday, March 13, 2008

The anti-anesthesia gene

My dad told me a funny one the other day. We were talking about waking up in the middle of surgery--and the recent article that I referenced in a recent blog--and my dad told me his story: He was having hip replacement surgery, and suddenly came to, and was aware of sawing and hacking and lots of noise around him. Somehow he found his voice: "I guess you're not done yet." No doubt the doctors quickly upped his intake and sent him back under, way under. Leave it to dad to crack a joke under those kind of circumstances...

We wondered if we had an anti-anesthesia gene, or one that made us more resistant to anesthesia, or to the idea of it. ("You can't control me...") I will be certain to tell the anesthesiologists I meet with this coming Tuesday during my pre-tests at Newton-Wellesley about this distinct possibility. They'll most likely laugh in my face, but no matter: I really don't want to wake up during surgery (again).

My dad got married today, to Mimi Hollister, a fellow activist, traveler, Marbleheader, and lover of the sea. Congratulations, Dad and Mimi!

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The Love List--a Work in Progress

I love…

…Having time to really listen to music, not just a snippet or a song but a whole album at once. On vinyl. Or to dust off those old mixed tapes and give them a spin. Or, even better, catch a live show. Go to a festival. Dance.

…Finding new music that I love, again, just when I think there's nothing that will grab my solar plexus and send me spinning.

…Eating homemade pie. Strawberry rhubarb, wild blueberry, apple. To hell with cake. Cake sucks. Pie rocks.

…Watching, feeling, hearing, touching, smelling, tasting the change in seasons. From summer into fall, fall into winter, winter into spring, and spring into summer, there are moments that creep up on you, fill your senses with the tingling excitement and resignation that change is in the air, and compel you to shift ever so slightly in your consciousness to adjust to the coming winds, fill your sails, and go.

…That spiral of never ending change that lifts you up and takes you someplace you’ve never been before, then winds you back down to places you haven't been to in a long while, to refresh your spirit and blow the dust out of your wheels.

…This time of year, whenever it is.

…Singing. Really. I should have been a rock star.

...Green & Black's Maya Gold chocolate. Dark. Creamy. Rich. Anything else just isn't worth it.

...Sleeping through the night (not always easy if you've been eating chocolate).

...Laughing. Because I don't do it enough.

...Dancing: the Hustle, the Bump, or Bomba with Dominick. It's all good.

...Freaks and Geeks. Far and away the best TV show ever. Brings me back to 1980, when I found myself doing the Lindsay-thing, trying to ditch the egg-head identity for a cooler vibe. Never did quite shed the geek thing fully, and I'm glad for it.

...Walking on sidewalks, crunching through the leaves, trying not to step on cracks, jumping from line to line, tree to tree, lost in an ambulatory haze of meditative delight.

...Any kind of walking. But you knew that.

...Animals. Nearly every kind. Even humans, though there have been days in my life that I have wondered if perhaps I get along better with animals of the non-human variety than I do with animals of the human variety.

...the Galapagos Islands. If you have never been, don't go; too many tourists are ruining the fragile ecosystems of these amazing islands, an evolutionary laboratory, Darwin's inspiration. Just know that they are breathtakingly beautiful, each one different, and home to animals that are found nowhere else on earth. I feel profoundly grateful that I was able to spend 8 days on the islands a few years ago. Trip of a lifetime.

...Costa Rica! The people, the food, the landscape, the Pura Vida vibe. Grateful for the time to experience a slower pace, and to be reminded of that essential, shimmering essence of living your days, through our connections with others, to nature, and to ourselves.