Now what?
Cheers to life - to successful surgery, to my retirement, and to my 60th birthday!
After my winter hibernation and reboot, I’m re-emerging into the world. In the same way that my December surgery coincided with the season of rest and retreat, I find myself in a season of growth and renewal, exploring potential identities and activities in a nonsensical fashion that has no discernible pattern. In the past 48 hours, our weather has gone from 50F and mild, to 50F with 30 mph winds, to driving snow to sun to more snow to some rain and now we’re back to sun, but now it’s 30F. Welcome to my world and to my brain.
I’m experiencing an identity crisis the likes of which I have not seen since high school and college. Back in 2017 when I was diagnosed with Parkinson’s, I did not really have a plan for dealing with it. But I learned to adapt and cope, and lived as well as I could with a degenerative brain disease for which there is no cure as my constant companion. Throughout the testing, screening and planning for DBS surgery, I deliberately kept my expectations low - I didn’t want to come away from an objectively successful surgery feeling like it failed just because I expected to have an exceptionally good outcome.
Which means that now, on the other side of what was a massively successful procedure, I have NO PLAN for how to handle it.
For instance, my super short hair is massively popular with everyone, including me. In the past week, two different people have told me that I look like I should be running an art gallery. This is a level of cool that I have never achieved before. And the new hair is a new look, which is requiring new accessories (hats, scarves, earrings, etc.). It’s an opportunity to evolve - but opportunities are just conundrums in disguise. I don’t even know where to find a decent hat, for god’s sake.
A slightly bigger issue is that I am retiring from a lifetime of work this week. Last month, I got an offer from my employer for a (very generous) early retirement package. Not working is a strange thing for me to ponder - according to the Social Security office, I’ve had taxable wages every year since I was a lifeguard at the local pool at the age of 14. Oddly enough, according to our investment advisor, it’s now okay to stop contributing to my 401k. In fact, it’s fine to think about pulling money out. Which is just about the most bizarre development of my life lately - even more bizarre than awake brain surgery. I feel like it’s all a trick, like I’m a dog being told that the car ride will be fun, when in fact we’re going to the vet’s office.
But maybe this car ride will in fact end at the beach and not the vet’s office. With one more week of work to go, I feel more behind on my life than I ever have before. I’m finally letting my brain think about all the things that are available for me to do - work in the yard, planting herbs and veggies and flowers, writing letters and celebrating the life events of friends and family, cooking new things, sitting in the sun and reading books, getting into better shape, writing, and so forth and so on.
I’m also planning my 60th birthday celebration for this August. The timing is great - my birthday falls on a Saturday, and with retirement, I’m in a mood for retrospection and reviewing my life, and so I’m inviting everyone I know. One thing I’ve come to realize as I work on the invitations is that I have met some truly extraordinary and wonderful people over the decades - some from childhood, from high school, from college and from my decades of work. As much as I like to complain about getting old, I will say that looking at the list of people that I consider friends makes me feel better about turning 60. We’ll still be cursing our way into old age, but I know for sure that there will also be laughter so hard that it hurts, and tears so painful that they turn into more laughter.
If you have not gotten an invitation to my party, don’t worry - I’m still sending them out. Ping me if you’re impatient, and I’ll share the details.