Saturday, July 3, 2010

Igor's optimism

Although I am not much of a fan of the "organ recital," still, when the music's playing, there's not much to do but hum along.

Last night, I went to a sleep-medicine clinic, was wired up like Frankenstein's monster, and left to sleep under the long-distance watchful eye of some minders. The object of the exercise was to determine if sleep patterns had anything to do with some current heart irregularities.

And after the TV had worn me out enough and I turned off the lights, it occurred to me that many of the steps taken to date had been aimed at assuring I would not feel worse -- that whatever was ailing would be held in check.

But at what point, I wondered, could I expect to stop feeling "not worse" and actually start feeling better? Was this an actual possibility or, given my age and condition, was "not worse" the best that could be expected?

Medical Jesuits might say that "not worse" IS better, but that's a little too facile for me ... too convenient for them and their need to feel effective.

It all makes me remember the comedy "Young Frankenstein" in which Igor says brightly, "Could be worse. Could be raining."

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