Last month I relayed my overall malaise, which was specifically tied to two unrelated, yet completely annoying experiences. My “new” dentist who used a sleight of hand to treat me and a candidate who blew her interview. This month, by contrast, I have been troubled by something more personal: the sudden death of a close friend. She was in relatively good health for an 81-year-old woman, and though a bit overweight, she was not obese. She didn’t have any chronic illnesses that I knew of, however a recent knee replacement continued to cause her pain. The last time we met for breakfast, about six weeks ago, she arrived late, which was unusual. She’d excused her tardiness by mentioning she was feeling a little off, having just had a Covid booster shot the day before.
I stiffened involuntarily and tried to hide my reaction. I am not a fan of the Covid “vaccine.” Instead of responding to her statement, I courteously remarked it was no problem about being late, it was Saturday after all. I had nowhere else to be that day. As our seven-year friendship was grounded in a shared spiritual path we attained through a fellowship, we always avoided discussing politics or politically charged topics. Indeed, we were at opposite ends of the political spectrum and that was OK. It worked for us. We loved and respected each other. Her political beliefs were none of my business.
So, throughout breakfast, I never brought up her Covid shot; her health practices were also none of my business.
But when she didn’t respond to a couple of texts and a voice message I left a few weeks after we met, I became worried. It was out of character for her not to respond within a reasonable amount of time. I eventually called a mutual friend, “D,” who told me she’d been in the hospital for a few days and was now in a rehab facility. “D” first heard that she had a mass in her brain, then heard it could have been meningitis or an infection on the brain. My stomach dropped hearing this. “D” said she had gone to see her in the hospital, but she was unconscious. ”D” also spoke with her on the phone once but her speech was garbled. ”D” suggested I text her as she didn’t want visitors, explaining she didn’t “look the same.” I started crying. I feared the end was near.
End of Life
A few days after learning of her passing, when reality set in and I understood that I’d never see her again, never speak to her again, never hear her soothing and encouraging words again, my mind went to the shot. The Covid shot may have—could have—played a part in speeding up her death. Even causing it. I admit it’s a knee-jerk reaction so that my brain could quickly and neatly comprehend why she died so suddenly. Clearly, I am not a health professional so I may be way off in my assessment. Still, I could be right in presuming this so-called “vaccine” negatively affects a certain part of the population.
Or, she could very well have had a mass or infection in her brain, as “D” had said. She could have had a silent killer in her body that was discovered too late. I pray she died peacefully in her sleep.
As I grieve my friend’s death, I am feeling very mortal. It’s got me looking at things differently. The older I get, the more often I hear of friends and acquaintances passing away. Some are older than I am and far too many are younger. We are all going to die one day though we don’t know when. So, instead of worrying about that day, I make it a point now to fearlessly live life to its fullest. I try to spend more time with loved ones and close friends, even if it’s just going for a hike or for coffee. I also take care of my health by being active and eating well. I especially like playing all types of puzzle games, which stimulate my brain and hopefully ward off memory loss or dementia. I intend to die with my wits about me! Still, I don’t know when that’s going to be and I am glad I don’t know.
Stay Active. Stimulate Your Brain
Speaking of memory loss, my next-door neighbor approached me a few days ago while I was paying in the self-service line at a Big Box store. She called me by another name starting with a B, asking if I was that person she used to paddle with 15 years ago. I stared at her incredulously, thinking I forgot an inside joke we’d created at some point in time. But it was no joke; she kept insisting I was the other person, offering details about their ocean paddling adventures. Finally, I called her by her first name and said, “It’s me, Rochelle.” Still no recognition. “Rochelle, your neighbor.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Then she promptly walked away.
That exchange rattled me, especially as it was on the heals of my friend’s death. Was my neighbor suddenly experiencing memory loss? She sees me nearly every day so to mistake me for someone she knew 15 years ago was troubling. She lives alone so I pray for her health and safety.
Stay active my friends. Stimulate your brains and move your bodies. You never know when the end is coming.