Health and Happiness

I have always maintained that if you have the 2 H’s in your life, you’re doing fine. Health and Happiness. The old belief that money can buy happiness and maybe even both, at least money can buy better healthcare these days, but not a new health, is still a debatable issue. Even though Princeton University researchers found the “link between income and happiness is mainly an illusion,” what is not an illusion to me is the definite link between good health and feeling good or happy, which ever way you look at it.

This week, totally unplanned and highly annoying, my health took a little knock and my happiness level went down with it. Being sick sucks! I woke up Monday morning feeling good, ready for the week, tuned in for work, lots to do. But by 10 am I was bent over by pain in my stomach and back. As if an invisible poltergeist attacked me in the first 2 hours at work, ripping at my stomach and pounding me where I perceived my kidneys are. I had a very mild form of this kind of pain a month ago when I was in Mexico. I took an anti-acid tablet and forgot about. But Monday’s pain was different or was it? It certainly was far more intense. Was there maybe a link between this week’s and last month’s pain? By 2:30 pm Monday I was at the doctor’s office, not because I’m curious about a possible link, but because no anti-acid or pain pill I took at 11 am was any good. My “happiness level” decreased dramatically and it’s all because my health level went south.

At the doctor’s office they immediately sent
me to the Lab area, stuck a needle in my arm and I sat there watching the essence of my life, the red gold, being pulsed into three glass tubes, never to return to my body again. Parts forever lost. They also sent me to the hospital for an ultrasound the next day, just to check if the kidneys, liver, pancreas and gallbladder are all still cozy with each other. But by Wednesday they told me I was invaded by Mr. Helicobacter pylori, or H.pylori (pictured on the right). Another H, but a bad H.

This little microscopic bugger with his longer version of a Homer Simpson hairstyle is the one that causes peptic ulcers in humans. Nasty buggers! So he and maybe many millions of his closes friends and family members must have been inside me in Mexico already, went dormant or just quietly multiplied and waited. Sharpening their spears. When the conditions were right again on Monday they launched their attack. My natural born germ killers were caught totally off guard.

The best defense now is to start a chemical war against the Pylori clans. They must be annihilated otherwise they will just keep coming back and attack again, like an irritating little Maltese poodle yapping at your ankles. So no peace treaties will be signed and no prisoners will be taken. Full blown chemical warfare. Eight pills a day for the next two weeks, the PrevPac the nurse called it, plus the painkillers, if needed, for the back. And that’s interesting. The stomach pains are mainly gone now, but the lower back pain is forever lingering around like the constant drone of lawnmowers on a sunny Saturday afternoon in spring.

I could have been infected anywhere, it is a common enough infection, but it reminded me again that one’s health and life can be so easily impacted. Our bodies can only live in that small range of conditions before it protests or being attacked. Our body is so frail, but it’s all we really have. All we can really call our own. The only thing we were given when we came into the world and the only thing we’ll carry around until death. A body and a brain. Health and Happiness. The two H’s. The rest is just stuff.

And although my life is only a tiny blip on the timeline of the big picture, it is still precious to me. Better health, especially for my inherited sensitive stomach, will also occur if I watch my diet better. I will have to decrease my intake of the “world foods” I so like to cook and eat. The rich Italian, the spicy Spanish and Mexican, the unfamiliar Turkish or Moroccan, the hot and aromatic Indian, and the flavorful French. The experimental spirit need not be stored away or abandoned, just a reduction in consumption occurrences and quantity is required. Too good is not always so good it seems.

Artwork:
1) Waking up strong in the morning by Alison Nolan
2) Happiness (Red) by Katie Coffin

What a Weird Kinda Day?

Okay, it started out normal with none of my numbers matching the Powerball Lotto numbers. I don’t know why I keep on trying, but who knows…Somebody’s got to win. And if you don’t play you can’t win.

After lunch I drove to pick up my son at his work and got caught in a short but heavy hail storm. All traffic came to a halt for a few moments. Got home to drop him off and the whole neighborhood was under police and ambulances and part of our road was blocked off by police cars. Three houses down a man, sitting in his car in his driveway, blew his head off with a shotgun. Yeoh! Made me think of that Beatles song “…/he blew his mind out in a car/…A crowd of people stood and stared/…”*

Just before 5:00 pm the internal shelter alarm at work went off because of a tornado warning. Everyone of course stopped what they were doing and calmly rushed to the shelter. Luckily nothing happened and we were “released” 10 minutes later. Outside it was pouring with rain and lightning was lighting up the sky like a Christmas tree.

After work I had to go and buy some groceries and while looking at the meat a “belated St. Nicolas” in a butcher’s uniform came along and re-prized several packages of meat. I’ve seen those bright orange stickers before and being an avid cook and always on the lookout for a good cut on a special prize, I checked it out. I had to look a couple of times because I couldn’t believe my eyes. You know that “Oh my gosh” kind of look. He marked down a pack of three Rib eye steaks, which usually sells for $9-10 per pound and which previously was marked for $20.45 for the pack to $4.89. I checked the sell by date and it was okay. Now, being a carnivore by nature and genes (veggies and fruit is by choice, but I also like them) I immediately picked up the pack, stupidly ask “St Nicolas” if this is the per packed or per pound price, and he said: “That’s my final answer.”

I heard the music go on in my head, I turned, smiled, put the meat in my cart, turned back to “St. Nicolas” and followed him all the way as he was re-prizing more packages. A pack of chicken drumsticks was previously $4.16 and I got it for 36 cents. Braised steaks were previously $7.19 per pack and I got it for $1.47. Whow! Except for one pack of meat I didn’t want, I picked up every pack of meat as soon as he re-prized it and put them in my cart. Talk about being at the right place at the right time. I didn’t get the Powerball, but I certainly got this jackpot.

Back home the kids were happy to dine on last night’s leftovers of penne and sweet basil and tomato marinara and I was too happy to comply. With the wife visiting family and friends in Cape Town and sightseeing in Mykonos on the West coast and who knows where she'll go (I hope she snap some photos for later posts on this blog) I happily dined on a glass or two of Merlot, several thick slices of well-aged Parmesan (they go so well together), followed by a green salad with marinated artichokes hearts, marinaded mushrooms, lot’s of crumbled goat’s cheese, mixed olives and a Greek vinaigrette.

All that must now still happen today is me getting to bed by 10 o’clock. Now that will be unusual and abnormal. But it’s unlikely to happen because I got a three month financial forecast and a monthly departmental report still ahead of me tonight.

But what a…different…kind of day! It felt so eventful and spontaneous.

* Lyrics: A Day In The Life by Lennon and McCartney.
Art: Spontaneous I and II by Lanie Loreth