Too much health talk at work today, stemming from too many people not doing well. Serious stuff.

I, personally, am fine – both physically and feelings-wise. Just concerned for some friends.

I was thinking the other day that I’ve never had an illness or injury that didn’t just heal, you know? I am used to medical problems going away with treatment and time. My appendix swelled up when I was a kid, so the doctor took it out. Problem solved.  I broke a finger in high school. The doctor set it, and it’s been pain-free for over 20 years. The ear drops fix the ear infection. The chiropractor fixes the sore back. These issues are all unpleasant and time-consuming, but that’s all they are. I’m not sure how I’d handle something more serious. Probably not with as much grace and strength as I’d like to imagine.

You know what’s weird? Lifespans are finite. It’s not like I just discovered this, but I find it bizarre to think about. Last night, before bed, I ran the dishwasher. Put dishes in, put soap in, close door, press button. I’ve done it hundreds of times and will likely do it thousands more, but there will come a point where I have run the dishwasher for the final time. And that means that each time I do it, I’ve ticked one more instance off the list. I wonder if I can use this to get out of doing chores? “Sorry, my life only includes a finite number of lawn-mowings. You don’t want to put me one closer to death, do you?”

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