It's strange, during most days of the week, all day long, I think of things that I want to write about here, but by the time the end of the day rolls around, I'm often too tired to write anything at all. What's more, even when I have the time and energy to post, I tend to forget all those Very Important Things that I'd wanted to write about. I have a 60-second voice memo feature on my cell phone, maybe I need to use it to make 'notes' when the inspiration strikes me. Then again, I can well imagine ending up with dozens of voice memos that I never get around to using.
I got eight year-old Daughter Number One AE a digital camera for her birthday, and she's been utterly tickled with it. I must say, it's not a great camera, and there are a number of features about it that I find limiting and/or annoying, but it's actually not a bad camera for a kid her age. I'm really glad Mrs. Muzzy went along with the idea when I broached the subject, especially since I had nothing else up my sleeve. Anyway, she really likes it. I used to teach photography, and I'm going to have to take AE out to the park and give her some pointers on lighting and composition.
I've posted very little about American Idol this year, not because I haven't been watching, but just because I haven't managed to get myself worked up about it. So, Sanjaya is gone. I should be overjoyed, right? Well, you know, he wasn't a good singer, and there is no way he could have won the competition, but he was entertaining, and maybe that alone was worth keeping him around all these weeks. I'm not really sorry he's gone, but the show will be alot less interesting without him.
Of the final six, there are only three I could see being the American Idol, and I'll go on record as saying that they are: Melinda, Jordin and Chris. The other three are good but dispensable. The next to go? Probably Phil. He's got a good voice, and he's a nice guy, but he's not the next American Idol. And neither is Lekisha. Melinda is far and away the best singer, but at this point I'm naming Jordin as the winner.
I noted in an earlier post that I've been really sick this week, so sick, in fact, that I ended up in the Emergency Room at Saint Paul Regions Hospital on Thursday night, in the same hospital where daughter number two LK was born. While it turns out that I wasn't really in any danger, I didn't know that at the time I checked in.
I'd gone in to the ER alone, mostly because my condition didn't seem to warrant calling an ambulance. Mrs. Muzzy needed to get the kids to bed, and I didn't really know anyone outside my MIL or FIL who could easily get to our house in reasonable time to take me. It occurred to me later that I really don't have alot of friends, or at least none I could call on short notice for something like this.
Anyway, as I lay on the gurney for those couple or three hours, hooked up to oxygen and monitors, I did alot of thinking: what if it *was* my time to go? I *was* scared, to be sure, but oddly enough, I wasn't really as scared as I was worried, though I'm hard-pressed to say why. I guess I was more scared about ending up an invalid than actually dying, but either way, I was mostly worried about my little girls, and how they'd be if something happened to me.
I was told that I shouldn't use my cellphone in the room, but the nurse brought me over a wired phone which I used to call Mrs. Muzzy. I gave her an update, chatted for a couple of minutes, and then we said goodbye, as if everything were fine. Of course, I had no way of knowing that, and neither did she.
But then I got to wondering: what if I were told right then and there that I had but, say, one hour or two left to live, who else might I call, who else might I tell? Or would I tell anyone? Would anyone else call *me* if they were in a similar situation? I dunno. I almost think not. I cringed as I considered all the people in my life I should have called this past week, should have written to, should have thanked. I'm afraid have always been a bit too selfish with my time, and have not always been a very good friend.
In the end it was pronounced that I had nothing more life-threatening going on than an Upper Respiratory Infection, and I was discharged with instructions to follow-up with my primary care physician in the coming week. Thing is, even a pedestrian diagnosis like URI could still have be deadly, and the evening could have ended much differently than it did. And, of course, it's quite likely that things *will* end very differently one fine day, in the near or distant future.
I'm left to think that maybe the lesson for me is that - however unlikely it might be on any given day - the end *can* come for any of us, at any time. Maybe it's a wise idea to consider living life in such a way so as to be ready for that possibility - to live every single day with no regrets. I think I need to try to do a better job of that.
But first I have to get well.