Old folks in retirement communities like to engage in organ recitals, exchanges of comments on what’s wrong, today, with each organ in either their own body or that of a friend. Duets are preferred to solo numbers.
It occurs to me I have not yet presented such a concert in this collection of essays addressed, primarily, to relatives, who might find a familial health history useful for their own future symptomology. From time to time, I have mentioned an illness associated with one of my own ancestors, but a symphonic recital might be more appropriate than my having hummed a bar or two, here-and-there.
A significant genetic-related disease is that of diabetes. Back in the nineteen-sixties, during my own middle age, I was diagnosed as being “pre-diabetic,” as evidenced by a glucose-tolerance test. This was not a common diagnosis at that time, but we were living in Bethesda where I had just begun my administrative internship with the NIH. Apparently, local medicine was influenced by national medical research and I should have accepted the result more than I actually did. I continued to follow the same diet I had used for the first three or four decades of my life. My own family health history should have impacted more on me than it did. My mother and father took insulin for their own diabetic conditions. My paternal grandmother had followed the same treatment when I was a teenager. However, their health problems occurred long before much was known about a genetic potentiality. My father’s death, when he was 78, was due, in part, to diabetic complications. His foot was amputated not long before he died.
Although my mother had breast cancer and a resulting mastectomy, her death, at 76, was associated with high blood pressure and vascular-neurological problems. She had a series of strokes before she died.
Once I retired, I have been very conscientious about taking my own medications for diabetes and hypertension. I began giving myself insulin injections, when I turned eighty. Both diseases are controlled, at present. My A1C has been about 6.2 and my blood pressure about 110 over 60.
Both my mother and father were consistently overweight during their entire lives. Both had diabetes and hypertension but did not follow their medical regimens very closely. My own weight was as high as 235 when I was in graduate school. It has been only after I retired that I have managed to control my dieting and exercise so that my current weight, measured daily, is between 145 and 155.
My grandfather Moransky died, when he was 60, from unstated causes, but probably from a heart attack. My grandmother Moransky died when she was 59, also from unstated causes. Uncle Bill, their son died at 61 from a heart attack. My Aunt Vi died at 60 from an unstated cause; her daughter Rosemary at 49; Wanda was 39 but Donna made it to 76. Two of her sons, William and Michael, died suddenly within the last few years. William was 74; Michael, was 68. My cousin Billy (Moransky) Jr. was 69 and Frankie (Borecki) Jr., 68. All of them had “heart problems.”
Aunt Sophie died when she was 69; Frank Moransky, died at 84; his sister Rose Borecki at 87. Frank Moransky’s daughters have lived at least three-quarters of a century. It’s difficult to predict the longevity of the Moransky clan and the fate of their telomers, but “weak hearts” remain a concern. On the other hand, gall bladders may also be of concern. My mother, her mother, and I had ours removed in our early 60’s.
The cause of death is not part of my memory for any of the Camerino relatives. Grandfather Luigi died at 86, and his wife at 76. My Uncle Joe made it all the way to 92. His brothers died at varying ages: Angelo (56), Frank (60), Fremont (72), Isadore (83) and Gavino (89). My grandmother Camerino died at 76 and her daughter Mary at 86. I have mentioned previously that Frank was developmentally challenged, and Angelo was “institutionalized” because of epilepsy. I’m not aware of any other conditions for this side of the family.
Regarding my own health conditions, I might mention that early in my life, I suffered from stress and related headaches. In graduate school, I had migraine-type attacks that required a rest in a dark room for relief. During my first years with the NIH, I took Valium, the common stress-medication for those days.
I also had arthritis, in my right shoulder, when I was with the National Institute of Arthritis and Metabolic Diseases! Lamont-Havers, Associate Director of the NIAMD, gave me a prognosis that: 1) I could receive cortisone shots for two years and, if the arthritis were to go away, it would; 2) I could undergo shoulder therapy for two years and, if the arthritis were to go away, it would; or 3) I could do nothing for two years and, if the arthritis were to go away, it would. I chose option (3). Two years later, I was able, once again, to raise my arm to a position parallel to my head.
My story-recollection is that my shoulder problem began at KSU. While I was sitting on the grass during a lake-side picnic, one of my DU fraternity brothers dropped a firecracker beside me. As I rapidly twisted away, my shoulder popped out of place. Don Gindlesburger, a seasoned basketball player, snapped it back into place. This shoulder did not start to give me real problems until those years I was with the NIAMD.
I continue to have an annual visit with my ophthalmologist. My cataract surgery had magnificent results back in 2019. I was tremendously nearsighted, since the first grade, and wore glasses to see anything around me. The surgery allowed me to see everything at a reasonable distance, but I will need to have the replaced lens “de-hazed” within a year or two.
Along with the nearsightedness, I also had an auditory problem, and, in my seventies, I began wearing hearing aids. My Uncle Joe had a very difficult hearing problem and wore hearing aids much of his life. My father could have used them, but seldom did. My mother said that she became deaf in one ear as a result of childhood measles.
I had chickenpox when I was very young. I suppose I should be vaccinated against Shingles, one of these days. German measles waited until my first year in graduate school, just before Karen was to visit me, cf. The Engagement. I do not recall having mumps or other childhood diseases.
I do see my dermatologist, semiannually. Two years ago, he removed a basal cell growth on my nose. The scar, to me, is very visible. My only other specialist is a neurologist whom I began visiting as the result of a “transient global amnesia” event in 2016. It is fascinating to lose an hour of memory for an unknown cause. The episode back then led to an interesting series of examinations with no observable neurological problems.
In general, I’ve been remarkably “healthy” for much of my life. I’ve had my share of colds and flues over the years. I’ve escaped the symptoms of COVID-19. Who knows, however, what the future holds.
I suppose for “completeness” I should mention Karen’s health “issues,” even though she is writing down her own memories for our ET group: Legacy in Words. Her major issues have involved cancer in one form or another. She had a mastectomy when she was in her fifties. She also has had a couple of pre-malignant melanomas removed a decade later. Her other set of medical issues involves chronic bone problems. While living here at Eagle’s Trace, she has had both knees replaced (in consecutive years) as well as a shoulder replacement. In December 2022, she had her right hip replaced. She is now a bionic woman, at least on her right side.
She takes medication for high cholesterol. Currently she and her internist are deciding if she is “pre-diabetic.” Her parents had no reportable disorders, although her father, when he died at 89, may have been heading toward Alzheimer’s or some other related disability, in addition to his Parkinson’s. Peg, her mother, died at the age of 86.
Currently, in my mid-eighties, my only health-related “conditions” seem to be the result of normal aging. I once enjoyed walking, especially any associated with travel either in the US or in Europe. In our early eighties, we did not renew our passports. Neither Karen nor I currently have positive images of boarding an airplane and flying for ten hours. Nevertheless, I have hoped that in the post-COVID years, we might resume mall-walking and window-shopping in places like Old Town Spring. However, I have been reluctant to walk the grounds of Eagle’s Trace, an activity I enjoyed when we moved here almost twenty years ago.
Many years ago, Uncle Joe, who lived to be 92, gave me excellent advice about living. He maintained you could do whatever you wanted to do, so long as you did it slowly enough! Now that’s the way to really enjoy an organ recital.