On Loneliness
“Loneliness is far more than just a bad feeling… It is associated with a greater risk of cardiovascular disease, dementia, stroke, depression, anxiety, and premature death. The mortality impact of being socially disconnected is similar to that caused by smoking up to 15 cigarettes a day, and even greater than that associated with obesity and physical inactivity.” – Dr. Vivek Murthy (U.S. Surgeon General)
I retired from full-time employment in 2014, at age 67. It wasn’t that I thought it was really my time to move on – rather my employer believed it was. I was working as an academic dean, at a community college in the Bay Area, and the administration that had hired me, well, those folks were long gone. The new president didn’t take any time to get to know me and was more interested in putting in his own administrative team. Therefore, I was toast.
So, after receiving official notice that my contract was not being renewed, hastily evaluating my financial situation, and determining that retirement was at least theoretically possible, I packed up and moved back here to Oregon. After all, I had spent a considerable portion of my life in Corvallis and Eugene and my thinking was that there were folks here that would constitute some kind of community for me: that I wouldn’t be totally devoid of a support system.
Flash forward to present day: I’m now 76, and while it’s true that I’m not entirely without a support network, it’s turned out to be a pretty meager one. I have lunch once a month with an old friend from my photography days and about once a year with former Oregon University System colleagues. I made new friends when I spent three years as a part-time faculty member here recently (2019-2022), but now that that position has ended, I now rarely see those folks. I have kept in contact with Katrina (mentioned previously in my writings here; she is the person named in my Advance Directive), but she has her own very busy life and we communicate primarily, and fairly infrequently, by text. I have a Zoom session with an old high-school friend from Wisconsin once every couple months or so. And finally, I admit I had high hopes for real and sustained human connection when I was in a relationship for about three years, but that ended last year and left me alone and grieving.
Given that the pandemic is largely in our rearview mirror, I have once again started spending time here at my neighborhood Starbucks. It’s not really community, per se, but as I sit here writing this, there are the sounds of work, conversation and occasional laughter. There are college students at the next table studying for, what I assume, their final exams. It’s true that I don’t actually meet people here, but it provides some sense of comfort: probably for the same reason that, when at home, I keep the TV or radio on most of the time; the NPR hosts and the news anchors at MSNBC keep me company. Fortunately, right now I have part-time work, in a tech-support role, at the college, that physically puts me in the classroom and in contact with instructors and students, for a few hours a week. That tends to keep me going.
I fear that I am one of the individuals that the Surgeon General speaks of in terms of the “loneliness epidemic.” I am more socially isolated than is really healthy. I know for sure that I am touch-starved. I’m pretty sure that, at this rate, I’m destined to be alone at the end.
For now, I guess I'll just keep breathing, walking, writing – and remain open to whatever comes next.
(Apologies for my prolonged absence here.)
Soundtrack Suggestion
When I was young
I never needed anyone
And making love was just for fun
Those days are gone
Livin' alone
I think of all the friends I've known
But when I dial the telephone
Nobody's home
All by myself
Don't wanna be
All by myself
Anymore
("All By Myself" - Eric Carmen)
As the World Turns
I don’t do New Year’s resolutions. I think they’re silly, and always have. After all, who needs a change of calendar to change their life? Not me.
That said, I did set a couple of goals for myself at the beginning of 2016. I didn’t make them public, and I knew the world would not end if I simply decided to abandon one or both.
Goal #1 was creative in nature: publish one iPhone photo per day to Instagram (and simultaneously to Facebook and Twitter). It became pretty obvious within the first month that this was going to be quite a challenge, but I was inspired to this quest by Facebook friend (Pulitzer Prize winning photographer; former Chief White House Photographer; Oregon native) David Kennerly, who published a book after he accomplished this task. He made and posted one iPhone 5s photo a day for the entirety of 2013 and then publishedDavid Hume Kennerly On the iPhone. It’s quite a great book. You should check it out.
This goal actually evolved over time. I wanted to take at least one publishable photo per day and then upload it. I quickly modified that to simply posting one photo per day, whether or not it was taken on the same day. Then, I decided one image per day was allowable, regardless of camera used or its content (screenshots became permitted). I kept on giving myself more and more flexibility or I might never have reached the goal. But now, on January 1, 2017, I am able to report that I did indeed post one image a day for each of the 366 days (yes, it was a leap year) of 2016. Whew. For those of you who follow or friend me, I hope you enjoyed at least some of the work I produced. (I highly doubt a book will follow.)
Goal #2 was physical- and mental-health related. In 2015, I had walked over 800 miles during the course of the year (as measured by the Walkmeter app on my phone). Therefore, I thought that 1,000 miles might be a reasonable goal for 2016. I am happy to report that I made it; my final mileage for the year was 1,066. Of course, many of the photos you saw me post during the year were taken during those daily walks. (There were only a handful of days during the year when I didn’t get out for at least a short walk). This final tally comes to an average of 2.9 miles/day. I’m pretty happy with that result.
Other than that, 2016 pretty much sucked. But at least I can say I lived through it.
The LN2 Fix
After that recent appointment with the dermatologist – yes, the one where those two growths were removed for biopsy – my life immediately changed. To wit: I went to Target and purchased some heavy-duty sunscreen (SPF 50), and also dropped by REI to buy a sun hat (again, SPF 50). I started using both immediately.
Honestly, looking back on things now, my behavior during all those late-afternoon walks and runs over the last 35 years is sort of like having engaged in unprotected stranger sex during the 1980s. Risky. During this time, if I used sunscreen at all, I would put a modest amount of a Coppertone SPF 30 liquid on the back of my neck, as well as some on my nose. Which is sort of like sometimes using a condom and believing that is being a responsible, healthy person.
Anyway, I guess the whole sun-exposure thing has been a huge blind spot for me: acting as if I were 18 years old and would live forever. You know: invincible.
When I started using this new, heavy, sunscreen cream, I immediately noticed that it was thick enough to fill up the crater that had been created in my nose by the biopsy (which was healing nicely, actually). But I ALSO noticed that there was another spot on my nose where the cream was collecting and creating a white spot. What the heck is this about? (I asked myself.)
So, when I finally got the call with the pathology report, I mentioned that there was this additional place on my nose that I had a question about … even though I had just had a full-body exam. And I made yet another appointment.
I waited six more days to get in, feeling sillier and sillier during the interim, thinking that my anxiety was just leading me to a place where I would end up feeling quite embarrassed for wasting everyone’s time.
So. That appointment happened yesterday. I did feel silly for having shown up … right up to the point where she agreed that there was something there. It was “pre-cancerous” (actinic keratosis) she said, and should be removed. Right then and there we LN2’d it (froze it with liquid nitrogen), and I walked away wondering how this had been missed during the earlier appointment and just how regular my visits to this office would now be.
Our Mission
Here is the test to find whether your mission on Earth is finished: if you’re alive, it isn’t.
(Richard Bach)
Lately, I find myself staring off into space a little more than usual. Not quite zombie-like, but close.
Given the skin-cancer diagnosis and the need to prepare for surgery in upcoming days (the procedure is scheduled for September 29), I guess it makes sense. You know, thinking about life and death … and taking stock.
Why am I here? What have I done? What is there left to accomplish? What is my mission in life? Do I have a mission in life?
Yes, of course I do. I know it’s there somewhere. It’s just that defining my mission seems to be a little elusive right at the moment. The truth is: ever since entering retirement involuntarily, I haven’t quite gotten it together.
I admit, I have struggled to find meaning and purpose. Mostly, I’ve spent a lot of time trying to regain some emotional equilibrium and have pursued various avenues to better cope with my bodily chronic-pain issues.
In the last month or two, though, I’ve sensed that I may be on the cusp of turning a corner: making myself more fully physically able and functional.
And, then, cancer.
You really never know what is going to happen next, do you? The course of your life, or mine, can change at any moment.
We really should never forget that.
Still Here
I am writing this on the fifteenth anniversary of 9-11. The newspaper today informs me that, in the period immediately following the attacks, a national poll indicated that an overwhelming majority of the country (79%) felt that the crisis would make us stronger and more unified.
Yeah, right.
Of course, that’s not really my topic today. A lot of my attention right now is on health and my own personal strength in the midst of difficult times.
So, the news is: I got the results of my biopsies back two days ago. I had waited a full seven days to find out that the growth on my leg, tentatively identified as melanoma, is, in fact, benign.
