Physical

September 18, 2005: Remember this garage door?


Since discovering the concept of wabi-sabi recently, I’ve considered my own body as an object lesson. I’ve reached that juncture where this mortal coil begins to uncoil: nothing drastic, just a rising, irreversible chorus of minor complaints. These formed the central theme this morning in my annual physical exam.

Erectile dysfunction is easily treated.

Arthritis isn’t so simple. Dr. D. added two investigatory blood tests to my usual lab requisition. I can’t say yet whether renewed gym attendance is helping. It doesn’t seem to hurt. At least I haven’t had a serious flare-up since Labour Day.

More subtle is an undiagnosed food allergy, perhaps related to the acid reflux. At the lower end, it has caused negligible discomfort but minor inconvenience for several years. Perhaps it’s nothing more than lactose intolerance. But it’s not a question to leave unanswered; my uncle died of celiac disease. I’ve been referred to a gastroenterologist.

These are accompanied by barely perceptible changes like declining libido and unreliable memory, hardly worth the worry. My health is relatively good; I ought to be grateful.

Still, wabi-sabi refers to an element of impermanent beauty that arouses melancholy or longing. What else can I say? Aging is art.


( wabi-sabi +2 )