Are you attracting death with your worry?

Sometimes I wonder if thinking and worrying about death is like putting up a big red flag that says "Here I am, death. My mind is on you, so you might as well come and get me."

In a recent phone conversation I decided to share some very serious thoughts I'd had since I was diagnosed with idiopathic cardiomyopathy in 1997. I'm fully recovered now, but since that diagnosis, I notice every sign and every symptom in my physical being. Not simply notice, but really notice. Do you get the difference?

I've been so-o-o healthy all my life. Don't believe in -- still don't -- flu shots or antibiotics because I believe they interfere with the body's ability to do its own work. It may take me a bit longer to get over basic illnesses, but I do it with rest, liquids, healthy foods and not much else. Being around my very young grandsons, who pass on their every illness to friends and family, means I'm exposed to a lot of germs! If anyone is sick in their household, I resort to echinacea for 5-7 days. I don't get sick much anymore.

I hated cardiomyopathy not only because it was a serious diagnosis (with possibilities of death or heart transplant), but also because of all the medication I ended up taking. Since then, my health has improved great, my heart has shrunk back down to almost normal size, and I'm only taking two meds for my heart and blood pressure.

Then there was the back surgery in late 2007 and the neurosurgeon's admonitions not to run or do certain exercises. I've lost so much weight since then and strengthened my ab muscles greatly, so that now I'm not running, but am doing exercises he might not have previously approved. Back when I was overweight, I would sometimes feel pain in my left arm (awk, I thought, was I stroking!?), but I knew it was connected to the arthritis in my left shoulder. Then there was the occasional, momentary pain in the left side of my chest which I (we, doctors too) decided was probably a chest muscle spasming. (I'm pretty sure spasming isn't a word.)

The point of this whole discourse is that these things bring on concerns -- sometimes more serious, worries -- about death. I don't want to die. I know it will happen someday, but not till I'm at least 103 has always been my wish. Possible. I had a great-aunt who died at 108. And, I want to die peacefully, in my sleep. Well, enough of that.

The point, really. Talking with my friend, I told her about these feelings and she said she understood completely. Women in her family have died at age 65 or 66. She's 64 and is waiting to see what happens. Waiting to see what happens. Sounds like standing in the middle of a Spanish bullring with a red flag in hand waiting to see what happens.

I tried to empathize and explain to her how she's more likely to attract death if she keeps thinking about it. Of course, I realize I'm doing the same thing. I'm paying more attention now. To those moments when I think of death and how I think of it. I'm learning to shift gears. Get my mind back on my goal of 103 (or older :) and refocus in the present. I don't want to attract death with my worry.

(Photo by self. Photo within photo by son, J.C. Burke. Click on any photo to see an enlarged version.)