The smoking pact I made with my best friend …
I read with interest lately, the leading U.S. doctor who said he won’t get treatment if he gets cancer after 75. He even ruled out preventative measures like colonoscopies and the like. It reminded me of a pact I made with my best friend (both of us former smokers who quit many years ago but still chew nicotine gum), that if we make it to 80, we’ll start smoking again. Because, why not?
I’m not even sure if I’ll make it until 80 being a type1 diabetic since my twenties. And if I do, it will be such a surprising achievement, why not celebrate by smoking again, a luxury that I think I would deserve?
We would sit on the porch of one of our homes, rocking in our rocking chairs and puffing away on a cigarette perhaps with a glass of cold white wine, a little condensation dripping down the sides.
When my 79th birthday rolls around, I may feel differently, of course. In fact recently, I changed my retirement planning from dying at 83 to making it to 90. Because I do take good care of myself. My diabetes is in range 75-ish percent of the time. I get colonoscopies.
As I write this, I’m thinking maybe we should change the smoking pact from 80-years old to 90. Regardless, I think aging freaks people out. And it shouldn’t because it’s a part of life. That’s actually the great irony of life – that death is a normal part of life.