so why else would we be here, anyway?
but i hate it even more when they die unnecessarily.
Guinevere at guineveregetssober.com revisits the death of rocker Tom Petty, whose mid-tour death last fall left the music industry stunned and fans broken-hearted. To say the least, I was amazed and just a little angered when I finished reading her post and pondering things.
The Los Angeles medical examiner today announced autopsy results for Tom Petty, who was found dead last fall: it was found that he died of a heart attack caused by an accidental drug overdose. His body had traces of three different kinds of fentanyl—which seems to be ubiquitous in ODs involving opioids, particularly heroin, these days, and which was prescribed to Petty for pain—and also oxycodone (the drug in OxyContin) as well as two different benzodiazepines (Xanax and Restoril).
As they used to say when I was a kid: Enough drugs to kill a horse.
And a doctor (or doctors) prescribed them all.
Nobody is innocent here but read the whole thing.
Okay, work with me on this one. I had to be at the south campus of Franciscan St. Francis Health this morning at 7:15 for a 7:45 MRI. No biggie. Nothing I had to put my big man pants on for, simply to take them off in a 2′ x 2′ dressing room to put on pajamas. MRI’s are really pretty blow and go for those of you who’ve ever been party to one. For those who are not familiar with this in-depth brain (for me) imaging technique, think back to the movie The Exorcist. Remember when Reagan was taken in for a electroencephalography? That was my first experience 50 years ago with a brain scan. Just for some fun, though, here’s a refresher:
You’ll be glad to know the technology has grown immeasurably over the last 50 years or so since my first one. The noise, however, is still rather distracting, even with earplugs.
Very brief backstory: Been having some neurological problems somewhat recently that caused my neurologist (appropriately enough) to raise his abundant eyebrows and say “I think we should look into this further. When was the last time you had an MRI.” Never mind that my insurance company pays the man (my attorney: “no names in this post, please.”) all kinds of filthy lucre for him to keep that info in his files. Or perhaps it was a test and he was just wanting to see if I recalled any finer details of the last 15 years.
So, I went in today and slid in under the wire. instead of going in at 7:45, I got in at 7:20. I was out very shortly after 8:00. Since my ride home wasn’t going to be there until around 10:00, I actually had some time all to myself. No blogging, no vacuuming, no walking the dogs, no stocking shelves at the club, no on the way to somewhere else, no doing the dishes, and best of all, no thinking I should be doing any of those things. So I got myself a cup of French roast coffee and a blueberry cream cheese something-or-other at a cafe, and simply sat at a table and read a mystery on my tablet until my wife picked me up out front a little after 10:00.
And I think I’m a little uncomfortable with this next thought and I don’t want to chew on it for too long, but here’s what I got to pondering: When was the last time I honestly had any peace — real peace — in my life? I think I need to find a way to accept peace on different terms. Or find something that looks and feels like peace that I can live with and be willing to accept.
Perhaps that all sounded a bit harsh. When’s the last time I had any time for myself? Oh… that sounded a bit selfish, didn’t it. I’m beginning to feel a bit trapped in here. Joy and I watched Lipstick & Liquor: Secrets in the Suburbs last night, and just as the title indicates, the movie is about alcoholic women in the suburbs, I still identify strongly with the lives portrayed in it.
We’re all walking the same path. We’re all on the same journey. It might feel, look, or sound differently from day to day. But no matter where I am now, someone has been there before. . . and they lived through it. Not only that, they came out on the other side cleaner and stronger, with a clearer picture of who they really are. Odds are, though, they didn’t know with all certainty what the outcome was going to be. They simply persevered in the middle of everything. So I think that’s what I’m supposed to do now. At least, that’s what I’m going to try to do now.
Joy and I tied the proverbial knot. It has been a long and winding road (Hey! That’d be a great name for a song! Nah, never make it.) Anyway, through a whole bunch of stuff for both of us, we’re still here today, taking it a day at a time.
Here we were 27 years ago on November 28, 1987.
And for all my blogging friends who have requested a pic of my other half, here she is today. And immediately, the corporate thought is, What in the wide world of sports is she doing with him? And for some strange reason, I’m the only one who’s gotten gray (the dog pretty much came that way).
So, I’ve been keeping a low profile of sorts for November and steering clear of blogging except for posting the Daily Reflection. Joy’s mother Audrey — my wonderfully cool mother-in-law of the ongoing 28 years — died Sunday, November 2nd at the tender age of 87. She passed on what would have been her late husband’s 91st birthday, and Joy and I told each other through the tears, “What a terrific birthday present for Bob.”
Things are just returning to some semblance of normalcy on the surface, and I guess one of the best things I can do is get back in the saddle with this blogging thing. Lots going on, that for sure, and it’s been interesting to get caught up with all the usual suspects as I slowly work through the gears and get back up to speed.
I’m sure neither of us would have gone through this immediate season unscathed except for prayer, very close, loving friends, and AA. Still a lot of grieving to do as a part of the healing journey, especially for Joy though I certainly include myself, but I am grateful for where we are tonight.
Now, back in the saddle, eh?