If you ever had a pet mouse, as I once did, then you know that as they spin on their wheel they go nowhere fast. I feel the same way any time I run on a treadmill. My preference is to run outdoors, but after yesterday’s incident, I need to build up my confidence. (See Post #808). The only other times I use the treadmill is in really icy weather for fear of falling, since I don’t have the same resilience that I enjoyed even 10 years ago. In addition, my speed is slower and my balance has suffered. I assured my wife that I would get in my miles on the treadmill the next two days with the emergency stop clip attached until we both do this weekend’s planned “Schnauzerthons.” She’ll be able to keep an eye on me as she walks with our schnauzer Tally while I run, pushing Tinker securely in her stroller.

I woke up this morning with the same dull sinus headache that I experienced after yesterday’s spell of dizziness. Since I wasn’t diagnosed with a stroke, it could be an inner ear infection. I’m surprised with all the tests that they performed that they didn’t find something wrong. The MRI was a strange experience with the banging and high-pitched noises that accompanied the thorough examination. It was like something was looking into my very soul, searching for a flaw. I couldn’t help but think of all the people who spent time in that very tube only to learn that their insides were being ravaged by some cruel disease. I was lucky to escape unfazed.

I’m a little more sensitive about cancer and heart problems than I was a few weeks ago. I just learned that my suspected birth father was affected in later life by both of these afflictions that eventually led to his passing at age 79. As an adopted child, I had no concept of these genetic family health issues until just recently. Neither was a factor with the parents who raised me, but our genes were not connected. They both lived into their early 90’s, and their parents also lived healthy, long lives. By the same token, my presumed birth mother is reportedly still alive and well at age 85 but will not acknowledge our relationship despite confirmed adoption records. Yesterday’s time in the Emergency Room, contemplating a potential stroke, was my first eye-opening brush with mortality, so a few days on the mouse wheel is a small price to pay.