Hey George
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Happy Birthday!
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Happy birthday - hope it's a good one!
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Hooray, HBD!
Whatcha drinkin?
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Yay!!!!! Happy Birthday George K!!!!
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Thanks, again, all my friends. Really.
Just reflecting a bit...
When I went into practice, I took care of so many "elderly" patients, people who were in their 60s and (gasp) 70s. So many illnesses, so much disease and disability.
(Paul Simon: "How terribly strange to be seventy.")
Thank goodness I'm not seventy.
I'm seventy-one.
I am blessed, for the most part with good health. My hypertension is well-controlled, my weight is stable, and my BMI is (still) under 30. I have a normal EKG and my blood chemistries are fine. I can still walk about 5 miles easily (though not as quickly as I did 4 years ago).
Though some here might disagree, I think that I'm still pretty mentally sharp.
It's at once depressing and reaffirming.
I'm sad, and I'm glad.
It could be so much worse than it's been.
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@george-k said in Hey George:
When I went into practice, I took care of so many "elderly" patients, people who were in their 60s and (gasp) 70s. So many illnesses, so much disease and disability.
It's so true. If your health is good, then life is grand and you can keep going towards 100.
Think of it. "Happy 100th Birthday, George!"
(huh? Who the hell are you people! Get off my goddam lawn. Why does this damn green stuff taste like mouthwash. Oh, I thought it was scotch. Doesn't matter. I forgot what I was talking about. Maybe the scotch is suppose to be green. Who the hell are you people! How about some mouthwash, damn tasty! Fu*king lawn anyway, walk all over it, I could give a damn. Morons. . . ) -
We were going to go over to D4's home yesterday. SIL is out of town on business, so it was going to be Mrs. George, G2, D4 and I. D4 suggested we cook, and Mrs. George volunteered to make grilled chicken.
She is clueless as to how to grill (and, for that matter so am I).
Then, we discovered that D3 was going to join us.
I thought, hey, this is MY day, I want pizza. So, that's what we did. I had a thin crust garbage pizza which D4 and I washed down with some Irish whiskey (I don't remember the name, but it was pretty good! Mrs. George drove home, of course.
D3 and G2 hanging out.