“I’ve Got My Finger On The Trigger”

The other day, I had a phone appointment with my G.P., which tells you right away that I’m from Canada as it stands for General Practitioner the Canadian version of P.C.P. – no not the drug Angel Dust – Primary Care Physician, although after the visit a mind-altering drug definitely sounded good.

Apparently, I have reached that age (72 if you must know!) when your doctor wants to see you twice a year instead of the more normal “annual physical.” And, if you have to ask why, just be thankful you don’t know the answer…yet. As the popular saying goes when a new store is about to open: “Coming soon to a neighborhood near you.” The reason it was a phone appointment rather than in person is that I am still in denial, and always forget to book that “six-month-yes-I’m-still-breathing-appointment” in enough time for the in-person visit. When I answered the call, he knew I was still breathing, so we got on with the “how are you doing, how are you feeling, how are you still able to pick up the phone?” You know, the basic doctor/patient banter, before asking that question I knew was coming, but hoping that it wouldn’t: “So, is there anything bothering you?” Ah, “have you got a year?”

Why? Because I’m at that age when waking up in the morning is usually followed by taking stock of what hurts today that didn’t hurt yesterday. Don’t laugh too hard, you might hurt yourself! And after taking stock of the aches and pains, you try to remember what you might have done yesterday or the day before to cause the ache. Yeah, good luck with that. Because unlike when you were younger and abusing your body on a daily basis so you knew damn well why you couldn’t lift your arm, now the ache just materializes out of thin air as if you were a magician, albeit with a sick sense of humor. Now, the banter with my orthopedic surgeon on the other hand (just the fact that I have an orthopedic surgeon tells you everything you need to know), the guy that replaced both my hips seven years ago (at the same time I might add), is quite different. I remember when I first met him and he was looking at all my x-rays, and when he got to the ones of my knees, he not only started to salivate, but he looked at me and asked: “How the fuck are you still walking on those things?” Indeed.

Don’t get me wrong. I am definitely not looking for sympathy here. I’m still spinning a few days a week, still skiing, and still riding my motorcycle. The only difference now is that whenever I do all those things, there is a hefty price tag attached, and not the monetary kind. Besides, someone once told me that if you’re looking for sympathy, you’ll find it between “shit” and “syphilis” in the dictionary.  And while we are on the subject of “bad” jokes, have you ever done an internet search about aging? Do you have any idea how many ridiculous sayings there are about getting older? Just type in: “You know you’re getting older when…” and it will take you the better part of a day to read them all. Gems like: You and your teeth don’t sleep together; When happy hour is a nap; but my personal favorite: At the breakfast table you hear snap, crackle, and pop, and you’re not eating cereal.

Enough of all this. I am sure you are all on the edge of your seats wanting to know how I answered the question: “So, is anything bothering you?” And you know me, I hate to disappoint. I told my doc that out of nowhere one day my left index finger looked swollen, it was difficult to bend, and when I did, it made this clicking noise. He chuckled, (don’t you hate when they do that?) and said: “You’ve got trigger finger,” otherwise known as stenosing tenosynovitis – and if you need another reason other than this not to go to medical school…you should go. When I looked it up online it gave three possible reasons for this affliction: the first two were about injuring the finger in some manner, but the last one spoke to me loud and clear as it simply said: aging. Unlike the catchy disco tune referred to in my title, thanks to Donna Summer, in which the refrain goes: “I’ve got my finger on the trigger/love is in control; my refrain is: “I’ve got a trigger in my finger/ love is still an option.”

My philosophy about aging can be summed up by the two t-shirts that I proudly wear. One has the picture of a motorcycle on the back with the following text written over it: “You don’t stop riding when you get old; you get old when you stop riding.” And the second pays homage to Hunter S. Thompson, who famously stated: “Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body. But rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming, ‘Wow, what a ride.’”

Amen!

Los Angeles 2023