Last week I wrote about my ailing computer. It ran really slow and I was afraid it had early-onset dementia and would lose its memory. Which contains a lot of my memory.
My computer and I are reunited. It has a new hard drive. Its memory is intact. Now I can’t connect to iTunes. I need to connect to sync my iPhone calendar to my iCal (calendar) on my computer. (That sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it?)
I see a pattern. I increasingly rely on my tech-toys to back up my memory. I’m okay with that. Really, it’s kind of cool.
Now I need a new hard drive for my body. I celebrated my 60th birthday in March. And, as a cancer survivor, I am grateful for every day. However. My parts are wearing out and beyond the warranty. I don’t think I have enough time left to replace them one by one.
After 25 years of rheumatoid arthritis, I have artificial joints in my knuckles on one hand and a left knee replacement. I set off the metal detector the last time I flew. No one cared about my official card from DePuy describing my titanium knee. I had to go into the total-body scanner. On the inside I giggled about the poor guy in some little room who had to look at my body unfiltered by clothes.
I miss being independent. My damaged hands frustrate me daily. Now I’m anemic and so I have limited energy each day. I choose my activities carefully. I drive myself around town and go most anyplace I want, but I get tired and I feel very vulnerable in parking lots.
I want to replace everything at once. A new hard drive rejuvenated my computer without losing any memory. A rejuvenated Robin with intact memories and no loss of hard-won wisdom? Perfect.
What would I do?
I’d pick up each grandchild with no fear of dropping or hurting them.
I’d swim laps without hanging on the wall to catch my breath.
I’d get on an airplane and fly to NYC or Paris. Alone.
I’d clean my house all by myself. (maybe!)
Or I could just accept the body I have and be grateful for medical science and my own determination and resilience.
I could find joy in each day and learn to ask for the help I need when I need it.