Anticipating Disasters

Friday, February 14, 2014

All week long I dreaded Thursday and Friday.

Friday afternoon I have another appointment with the CPA tax man to see what I owe. As I look at one set of figures, I foresee paying tax on 14 thousand; or, with another set of figures, on 40 thousand.

That discrepancy has kept me a bit on edge as I await this next appointment.

Ginny always figured our taxes and I flounder now that the task falls on me so last week I consulted an expert to determine a final verdict.

I have no idea what the bottom line will be, so, being me, I imagine the worse sorts of outcomes from today’s appointment.

Being of such an optimistic mindset, I envision losing home, car and all worldly goods to the IRS while I anticipate ending up living as a hobo under a sheet of plastic in the woods.

Upsetting as taxes are, anticipating Thursday was worse.

Thursday I had scheduled an appointment with the eye surgeon for my macular degeneration. I anticipated having another needle injection of medical glop behind my left eyeball—I’ve been through six or eight of those procedures and being familiar with the process does not make it easier.

I worried that the disease may have migrated to my other eye, that I’d no longer be able to drive, or to read, or even to light my pipe.

My worries drove me to make preparations ahead of time:

Yesterday I put new flowers on Ginny’s grave thinking that I might not be able to visit there alone again. I delivered Valentine’s candy to some friends. I bought finger food that I’d be able to eat over the weekend and other stuff I could cook without seeing. I put in extra hours proofing manuscript pages for my next book. I balanced my checkbook and took care of other business arrangements—all in anticipation of not being able to see as I recovered from that needle-in-the eye thing…

All my worry in vain.

Dr. Sailor examined my eyes and said no further operation is necessary. He said I am legal to drive—that though my left eye is next to useless, it is to be thought of as a spare tire which you hope you will never need. No further operation is likely to change that. He said I should concentrate now on keeping my right eye healthy.

I trembled at the news.

Here I’d psyched myself up anticipating devastating pain and dire news, but in reality, nothing has changed about my sight.

I had worked myself up over nothing.

I do that all the time.

Leaving the eye clinic, I prayed a prayer of thanksgiving…

Then I went home, ate three pastries and a bowl of icecream, and I watched a porno movie about this lady and eight guys who make an apple pie, among other things, on her kitchen counter.

Such is my heart.


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1 Comment

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  1. vanilla
    Feb 14, 2014 @ 10:55:22

    Further proof of your humanity: working yourself up over nothing.

    Praise God for continued sight, no operation.