It’s a cool Monday morning and I’m alive and healthy. True, I’m having a pacemaker shoved into my chest in ten days but it’s not because of any discomfort I’m experiencing. My heart rate is too slow and I have atrial fibrillation which means my heart often beats in flurries -- when it's not too slow. I notice it but it never prevents me from doing anything. Still if left untreated it can cause problems down the road and I do not want problems down the road or the street or avenue or boulevard or highway or esplanade or strada or lane or anything else. I’ll only miss two days of work and will have just the one night in hospital. There’ll be a couple of weeks before I can work out and for a week after the “procedure” I’ll be restricted to sponge baths. There’s also going to be a monitor by the side of my bed for the rest of my time on this planet but I don’t see that as in anyway inhibiting. I have a friend who has a pacemaker and he’s told me about the ins and outs though there aren’t many of either. I don’t have to change my diet or exercise more so it seems that life will return to normal — whatever the hell that is.
I had a great Saturday watching the California Golden Bears defeat the University of Arizona, 49-31. What fun to cheer two seventy-plus-yard touchdown runs by Cal’s freshman sensation, Jaydn Ott. There were other offensive fireworks from the locals and key defensive stops to prompt fist-pumping, leaping, high fives and hugs. Nothing like a home team victory in a college football game. The high carries into the next day and indeed I'm feeling lingering effects of the jubilation as I write this.
Life is pretty good these days though I’d never know it on days when I’m struggling with depression, anxiety or both. The more I deal with these plagues the more unfair they seem. After all, I’m healthy (my somewhat dodgy heart notwithstanding) enjoying teaching, love writing am happily married and have films, books, sports, music to keep me entertained and stimulated. Part of my problem is that I live with regrets. I made too many mistakes in the past to possibly recount even in a multi-volume autobiography. You’d think that at some point I’d realize that those mistakes can only be learned from, not changed, and it’s better to appreciate the many blessing I’ve had in life. You’d think. After all, despite all the missteps I have a great marriage, two wonderful and successful daughters and everything else that makes life grand -- aside from untold riches. Or even told riches. My brain could use a pacemaker, something that would straighten my thinking out when it goes dark and pointless and it meanders down dark, lonely roads to nowhere. That would be nice.
I turned the novel over to my editor/wife after working on it most days over the last twenty months. It’s weird not to be hanging out with the characters I’ve created. I know them so well and have great affection for them. I’m hopeful that this book will find a publisher and reach many, many readers. I’m convinced it’s entertaining, thought-provoking and an excellent chronicle of the Sixties. I'll keep my faithful readers (Gavin Huckleberry of Appleton Wisconsin) updated on its progress.
I’ve been looking over the first draft of a novel I was working on when I was inspired to write Untitled Sixties Novel. It’s very different and I'm enjoying it, am impressed by it and proud of it. The trifecta! It may end up being novel number four. Fingers are crossed, but not for long as I need them for typing.
I realize that I’ve not written much on this here blog of late but….maybe that will change in the weeks to come. Not working on novel #3 and only pecking away at #4. Hang in with me dear reader -- you’ve got to have heart.
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