I left the doctor’s office, got into my car and began screaming obscenities at the top of my lungs. I have had enough. When I visited this doctor to get a second opinion on my thyroid cancer, his opinion was to do more surgery. And my opinion is I do not like his opinion.
It’s hard not to feel like I’ve been jerked around. My radiation therapy has already been postponed three times. And now after a CAT scan, I hear the suggested course of action is more surgery, and a biopsy for a lymph node he doesn’t like. I’m frustrated and angry even though I know everything he’s saying makes sense. It’s the cancer. I’m mad at cancer and depressed after this consultation.
And what’s worse, I’m headed straight from the doctor’s appointment to give a motivational speech to a group participating in an event called the State Masters Games – kind of a seniors Olympics.
“I don’t think I can do it,” I told my wife.
“After what the doctor just told us, I think they’ll understand,” she replied.
But as we arrived at the venue, I changed my mind. Regardless of how I felt, I had a message to deliver. I needed to do my job even if I didn’t feel like it.
Once I took the stage and began talking, something unexpected happened. I realized that I wasn’t talking to the group, I was talking to myself. Here are some excerpts:
“…I’m really excited about speaking to you this afternoon because everyone in this room is living. I know what you’re thinking. Well, no duh! But hear me out. Everybody in this room knows somebody our age who’s alive, but not living. And there’s a world of difference in the two.”
“…In a way, getting is old is a gift. Sure, things don’t work as well as they used to – but in return, we have more stories and wisdom that people half our age don’t have. Plus, we can say anything we want without any consequences. People will just shake their heads and say, ‘Bless your heart.’”
“…People our age are experts at going to the doctor and describing it in vivid detail to everybody else. If talking about doctor visits was an Olympic sport, everybody in here would be a gold medalist.”
“… I still go to the gym – but my reasons have changed. Years ago, I worked out to get ripped muscles. Now I work out so I can open a pickle jar without any help.”
“… Clint Eastwood is 95 years old and he’s still making movies. When someone asked him why he was still working, he came up with the best answer I’ve ever heard. ‘Every day when I wake up, I don’t let the old man in. My secret’s been the same since 1959, staying busy. I never let the old man into the house. You have to stay alive, active, happy, strong and capable. It’s in us. It’s in our intelligence, attitude and mentality – we are young, regardless of our age. We must learn to fight to not let the old man in.’”
“…Let me put this to you another way. In terms of football, all of us are in the fourth quarter. Some of us are early in the quarter and some of us are closer to the two-minute warning, but make no mistake, we are in the fourth quarter.
“When I went to Alabama in the early 70s at the end of the third-quarter, every player and coach held up four fingers, and the crowd chanted, ‘The fourth quarter’s ours.’ That’s because the outcome almost always depends on what happens in the fourth quarter.
“Maybe it’s time to extend that beyond football. Maybe everyone our age should start each day holding up four fingers, reminding ourselves it’s time to win the fourth quarter of our lives.
“It’s time to say what has been unsaid to someone who matters to you. It’s time to give of yourself to others. It’s time to forgive someone you haven’t forgiven. To make amends to someone you’ve hurt. Start today, because unlike a football game, we don’t know how much time is left on the clock.”
“… I’ve always loved Jimmy Buffett, and one of my favorite songs of his is called, ‘Growing Older But Not Up.’ The chorus has become a creed I try to live by: ‘I’m growing older but not up, my metabolic rate is pleasantly stuck. Let the winds of time blow over my head. I’d rather die while I’m living than live while I’m dead.’”
“…That’s great advice for everyone in this room. Grow older, but not up. Live, don’t just exist. Win the fourth quarter. And whatever you do, don’t let the old man in.”
Once I stepped back from the microphone, and the applause began, something changed. I walked off the stage, sat down and realized I felt lighter. The doctor’s words from a couple of hours earlier had lost some of their sting.
“I’ll fight this thing and beat it,” I thought.
I guess sometimes you have to give yourself a little pep talk.
Joe Hobby is a barbecue-loving comedian from Alabama who wrote for Jay Leno for many years. Find more of Joe’s stories on his blog: www.mylifeasahobby.blogspot.com. Follow him on Facebook at Joe Hobby Comedian-Writer.
