A STORY WORTH TELLING
I’m trying hard to remember. What was so dad-gum funny about that?” — Me. I said that. About 1982.
“Hello, how are ya,” a friend greeted me. We met last weekend where I shop for vitamins.
“I’m in good shape for the shape I’m in,” I joked, laughing like friends do when they run into each other.
“But, keeping me in shape these days is getting to be like those old cars of mine. The older we both get, the more maintenance we both require.”
We laughed again and waved as he went one way, and I went the other.
It’s commentary on life, I suppose. Joking about aging. Until aging starts happening to us.
Like my sisters and me at the family reunion some years ago. “You remember,” I posed the question. “How we used to laugh at Mom and her brothers and sisters.
They drove halfway across the country to drink coffee and talk about their aches, pains and surgeries?”
We laughed.
“Well,” I continued.
“Here we are, we’re at that age. Talking about our aches and pains and surgeries. And I’m trying hard to remember. What was it that was so dadgum funny about that?” I’ve always tried to care for myself, as I do with the old cars I enjoy tinkering with. Routine maintenance for me and for them, to keep us all hitting on eight cylinders and on the road.
During my three score and 10, plus a half dozen, I’ve jogged, walked, worked out at the gym and at home, water skied and bicycled in varied attempts to stay in shape.
Like the television commercial that touts a body in motion stays in motion, my goal is to keep active. I want to wear out rather than rust out.
Just as I keep the rolling stock in the garage nourished with quality lubricants and fluids, I’ve also tried eating healthy. Reinforcing diet with vitamins and supplements.
The result? So far, so good. I guess. At this mature age of social security benefits and increased fiber, my checkups are mostly good. And, I require only one prescription medication.
Still, the journey has had its moments.
Shopping to supplement my supplements last weekend reminded me of early one morning in the early 1980s, touring Arkansas in a car born in 1956.
Hitting the road early, I wasn’t far down the road when I sensed my heart racing. I felt warm. A glance in the mirror revealed a bright red face staring back at me.
As if that wasn’t enough, I began to itch.
A quick exit off I-40 took me to St. Mary’s Hospital in Russellville, Arkansas.
“Taken any medicine this morning,” the nurse asked.
“No.”
“Have you eaten?”
“Not real food. Fastfood fake breakfast.
Sausage biscuit. Orange juice. Coffee. Black.” I added as how the itching was escalating.
“Where do you itch,” she asked?”
“More all over than anywhere else,” I offered.
“It might be the orange juice,” she commented while checking my blood pressure.
“I’ve never been allergic to anything,” I said.
While scratching.
“No medications,” she doubled back to ask again.
“No. Although I did take my morning ration of vitamins.”
“What supplements did you take?”
“Let’s see,” I take vitamins A, B complex, C, niacin, lecithin, bran, brewer’s yeast, zinc, bone meal...that’s all I can think of at the moment.”
She continued writing. “Why do you take lecithin.”
“Helps reduce cholesterol and lower blood pressure. Is that what’s making me itchy and red-faced?”
“No,” she said. “I just like people who take supplements to know why they’re taking them.”
“Funny,” I added. “No one told me to expect a pop quiz. Does trying to stay out of hospitals count as a reason,” I asked?
I never knew not all nurses have a sense of humor.
I contemplated my fate. Was it circulation, heart trouble or old age? After all, I was approaching 40.
‘’Good morning, ‘’ announced the doctor.
“Do you like broccoli?”
“Broccoli,” I asked?
“Yes, I like broccoli. But tell me what green veggies has to do with our nice chat?”
“You eat lots of it?”
“Sometimes.”
“I think that’s causing your symptoms this morning.”
“Broccoli,” I paused. “Sausage biscuits don’t come with broccoli. It wasn’t even listed as a side on the menu.”
“You told the nurse you take niacin.”
“I did. And I do.”
“Then you took niacin this morning. And I’m guessing before breakfast?”
“Maybe,” I conceded.
“I think you’re experiencing a niacin reaction. If you eat broccoli, you’re probably getting a sufficient amount of it without niacin. If so, an extra dose on an empty stomach can trigger the symptoms you’re experiencing.
“Seriously,” I asked.
“I turned around on the interstate, delayed my trip half a day, and saw my life flash before my eyes. For a niacin reaction. Shouldn’t you at least keep me for observation or something?”
“Nope, just lay off the niacin a few days and reduce your dosage,” he laughed. “No joke, you’ll be fine in an hour or so.” It really wasn’t funny at the time. But funny is sometimes a matter of perspective.
While I had a temporary breakdown at Russellville, my ’56 Thunderbird never skipped a beat during the five-day trip covering three states.
