Tracks Of My Tears

I'm kind of focused on health issues (see previous post regarding my colonoscopy) and it occurred to me that my body itself is a kind of blog for my half-century-plus of life.

I don't need tattoos to remind me where I've been. A quick look-around will find evidence of some painful experiences...

Circa 1962-66: My kneecaps were cut and scraped so many times from childhood falls that they are just one big hunk of wrinkled scar tissue. I could have provided transfusions with all the blood I lost from them during that period.

1963: Damage to my right eye while playing with my cat. My vision's gone down hill ever since.

1968: Acquired seven-inch scar across my right lower belly from appendix removal. There I was, accompanying my parents to the grocery store, and WHAM! I doubled over in excruciating pain. The surgery the next morning caused me to miss the inaugural California 500 Indy car race, for which my dad had acquired full-access media passes. At least I got out of six weeks of Phys. Ed. in school.

1969: While farting around with a bunch of other kids on the slippery perimeter of a chum's swimming pool, I slipped and ripped off one of my toenails. It never grew back correctly and to this day reminds me of when I met one of my best friends...isn't that right, Dale?

1973: I'm cleaning the meat slicer at the restaurant I work at. The blade is razor-sharp. I am very, very careful. My right index finger still manages to find its way across the edge of the blade. Clutz.

1987: Helped another friend transplant a new engine into his Jeep. I'm standing on the front fender, guiding the motor into place. The engine is swinging from a chain-fall. Unbeknownst to me, my dear buddy has used undersized and/or metric threaded bolts into the block... One slips out; motor slams down, and my hand, wrapped tightly around and through the chain, zooms up -- through the hoist. Result: missing right index-fingertip and a goodly chunk of the webbing between my thumb and index finger. Today, what used to be the side of my index finger is now its end, and I have a spiderweb of white scars where some of my webbing used to be.

2002-present: Two-inch thick layer of fat around my midsection. My wife is an excellent cook.