Sunday, June 29, 2008

Reconing Things Up

Okay, so it's a Sunday and time for some realistic reconing on a couple of counts. First off, after the matter of my minor heart attack and subsequent cracked couple of ribs last week, I made a deal--you never know if anyone with both authority and responsibility is listening, of course--that if I would be allowed to get through the pain, I'd get back to at least one hour a day of outdoor activity--and I mean activity. And when capable, I'd get back to my 800 crunches and 100 pushups a day, something I've done for 8 months a year for 25 years. Wouldn't know it to look at me, but it still is true.
And the night I made that deal I had the idea that if I took some Ibuprofin my ribs wouldn't hurt as much. And in fact, as of a couple of days ago when I started, the Ibuprofin has allowed me to work/live/cough with just a level 39 pain, as opposed to wishing I was dead with each breath. So I figured I had to live up to my end of the deal--don't know whether you believe in spirits, but whether you do or not, when they do their part, you had better be prepared to do yours or there will be hell to pay, no fooling--and have these last couple of days, cutting lawn, cuttting down a tree that was starting to tear our roof apart, taking out pickup loads of garbage. And man, there is nothing like doing an honest couple of hours work! I hurt more than is imaginable--if you're catholic, remember those Saint's for Six O'Clock where they described horrible tortures saints survived?--but at the same time I can hear my heart ticking nicely. Can hear my muscles saying: Hey! It's been a year almost to the day since your intestines blew and you haven't done near anything--couple of starts at situps notwithstanding--and now you're going to push mow and rake a couple of acres, then take down a 30 foot tree, then pile garbage bags into a truck and toss them 20 feet into the pit at the local disposal? Who the heck do you think you are?
And the answer is: I'm sick as a broken fiddle. After 30 years of nothing but a freaking case of malaria that recurs about annually, in the last two years I've had a flesh eating spider bite that set off a septic system in my body that had my legs and arms open over 20 holes to let the poison out. Then last year the intestine burst and that led to three major freaking operations and lots of pain. Then this year I thought I got through but then the freaking mild heart attack and couple of cracked ribs. I am through with this nonsense. I am finished! If I have to work outdoors carrying trees for two hours a day for the rest of my life to get my strength/heart/soul back, well, then I'm telling you all right now that that's what is going to happen. Cause I am one strong boy from Whitestone New York, not some aging, broken down muthafukka from Joshua Texas. I have a lot of explorations left to do and I cant do those unless I am back to being at least a mediocre athlete. And so that's what I'm going to be. Or better. But 57 years old is not old. It's right in the middle of the middle of the strongest a person will ever be and somehow I lost my way and let my body down and it is time to recognize that my body was always good to me because I was always working on being good to it. And these set backs have made me realize that I've been depending on my body to do the work these last few years since we moved to Texas, rather than me doing the work on my body.
So not that anyone cares, but the next time someone tells you their body is letting them down, the truth is that they are letting their body down. Or at least that's the truth in my case. And I'm facing a day of reconing again. And I've had four this year alone and I'm going to fall on the side of strength. I may hate it, and I'm going to have to work to get back into shape and I'm going to be a chicken, but I made a deal with spirit and I am going to live up to it and the next time you all see me you are going to see someone who is trying, not dying. I've got so goddamned much to live for I don't know how I lost sight of things. Just working too hard. Heart attack because I was worried whether my guests liked me? Hell with that. Other tour guides could care less. I will still care but I will not kill myself for people anymore. There must be a way to love them and cater to them without also fretting so much. So I'm not going to fret. I'll give the best trip I know how and let it go. Or at least I'll try. But reliving every moment of every day with a guest, remembering conversations at 4AM is not doing me any good. In fact, it's making my blood pressure spike from 110 over 70 to 210 over 140 hence the mild heart attack. So no more of that. You don't like me, don't like the trip, tough luck. I'm going to do my best and then sleep at night.
Is this a rant or what???????
Just wanted to let you all know that I appreciate your concern for my health and I think I am going to begin being concerned for it as well.
Thanks for the good thoughts.
Time to get strong for the next 25 years.
That's what I recon, anyway.


Morgan said...

Great to hear Peter.
You're one of the Strongest I know anyway.

There's this little thing that came to mind awhile back:

Beer and wine is fine
But whiskey is risky
Get drunk off ayahuasca
and fix what needs fixing


also, why not trade those cigarettes for mapacho, or at the very least american spirits (additive free, natural tobacco)

take care

BS said...

Hi Peter,
I have written before...about 1 year ago and offered to help you with your healing....I never heard back. I would like to offer my help again if you would like to take me up on it. I can promise you Scott Peterson doesn't lose sleep over his guests not liking him. In fact his mantra is "don't take it personally" and he just tells it like he sees it.....for this I am eternally grateful. If I can help you please let me know.

Naomi Berg said...

Hey Peter - sorry about the heart attack - 57 is kind of what we make of it. Life spirals and we have to try to keep our feet (or at least balance on our butts with as much dignity as we can muster). Be well, my friend. Naomi

daisyduke said...

There's nowhere to get, Peter.
you ARE strong...augment, maintain, revel in yourself; you are worthy. Today.
With that whole littany of stuff, it looks like you are being poisoned by the things that are inside you. They are literally fighting to get out...let them go.
Let it all go.

The Grudge said...

Alright! Good fire there Peter. Take care.

Peter Gorman said...

Two questions: BS: I don't remember the offer, but if you can help with healing, I will take it.
TWO: Naomi: Is this you? I mean the Naomi that I think this might be, as in Naomi and Fred? If so, let me know, cause I've been wondering about you two for nearly 30 years.

BS said...

Hi Peter,
my website is ...check under contact us and you will find my number and where I am located. Call me or email me and we will go from there. We should start soon since the conference is coming up.

Naomi Berg said...

Yeah, it's me, just me and my three kids. Fred decided that children and monogamy were not for him. Back in Northern Virginia after many stops along the way. ( My life is good in the ways that count -- spiritually and emotionally -- of course you don't go into social work to get rich and I didn't. Two kids in college and one in high school. Work is very good. I had an email from another old upper east side friend (Jacob Pomerantz, don't know if you knew him) and we were talking about old theatre stuff and your name popped into my head. Google is a wonderful thing.

Triche said...

I am reading your blog as I while away the hours of another interminable layover, this time in Atlanta, headed "home" after our Peruvian adventure.
I can not believe you had a heart attack! (Actually, considering how much you smoke, I guess I can.) I know that our group was a challenge (myself excluded, of course), but I had no idea that we could be hazardous to your health!
Seriously - stop smoking. Seriously. I need you to stay healthy so you can take me back to the jungle. It's all about me, after all.

Phoenix said...

your body takes care of you till you're 40 the you need to take care o f your body. an oft heard phrase at the dragonfly ranch in hawaii by proprietor B. Moore