An old curmudgeon

The tragedy of life is not in the fact of death...

But rather, in what dies inside many of us while we still live.

-Norman Cousins

 

Yesterday I was sitting in the hospital with my son Christian; he was having a minor surgery to remove a small lump in his throat. As we were sitting there, I could over hear an old man in the next curtained off area going off about various post surgery bowel problems. 

 

He was using colorful language inspired by years of military service.

He didn't want to take antibiotics because he never needed them before.

He said he lived up in the hills, where there is still clean air and where germs don't go. Not like the valley down where we all live.

He was talking about not being able to shower for three days and having to get some lady to come over with a big sponge...

 

He had one of the most captivating personalties...he was an old curmudgeon.

 

At one point the nurse came and asked him if he felt much pain.

He paused for a while and I thought maybe he didn't hear her but than he spoke.

He said he was thinking about the times and places he had been. How he had been in many fox holes, muddy pits and godforsaken places and how in those times he had told himself that if he ever made it out alive...he would never complain about anything again.

 

In light of that, he said, he was doing pretty well.

 

I was mesmerized by this old soldier, they just don't make them like that much anymore.

 

It's a shame.