“Sometimes, when you are up to your ass in alligators, you forget that your main objective is to drain the swamp.” That is one of my favorite sayings that my Dad left for me. It means, quite simply, that there are times when life’s little problems grab hold of our attention, and we become preoccupied with them. When that happens, we concentrate on the problems, and forget about the joyful essentials that fill our lives.

Another one of my favorite sayings comes from the old newspaper comic strip Pogo by Walt Kelly. “We have seen the enemy, and he is us.” Simple, huh? But how true it is! At least in my case.

These are two easy sentences around which I should have built my life. A case in point is what I have been going through lately.

About three months ago, I developed a medical syndrome called Benign Positional Vertigo. It happens to a lot of people as they get older. To keep it short, the syndrome involves problems with the inner ear, dizziness and vomiting.

While being treated for the problem, I underwent a hearing test two weeks ago, and, lo and behold, I discovered that I have a 60% hearing loss in my right ear which can be corrected only with the use of hearing aid. When I asked the ear/nose/throat specialist what caused this problem, he shrugged and said, “I don’t know…the aging process.”

The bastard!

I thought about it for a minute, and suddenly I felt the impact of a Mack truck driven by Father Time smashing into the living room of my life.

Turning thirty years old didn’t bother me, even though I'm from the generation that coined the phrase, “Never trust anybody over thirty.” (How ridiculous, huh?)

Forty and fifty were also taken in stride.

Having my hair turn gray was no big deal, nor was the sudden need for reading glasses.

But needing a hearing aid, for some reason, body-slammed me and mentally pushed me over the threshold of old age. Suddenly, two weeks ago, I turned into a very old man.

I became obsessed with the thoughts of being old. I told myself to stop hanging out with my young friends – that, in doing so, I was only kidding myself into believing that I was still young. Was I making an ass out of myself by “hanging” with them? Were they simply humoring me and making me think that they were accepting me? Maybe I should start acting my age.

I also began thinking that perhaps I should stop working out so much. The daily resistance training, the aerobic exercising, the morning sit-ups and push-ups – they were all just temporarily postponing the inevitable.

The same thing with watching my diet. The salads, the cinnamon, the freaking 5000 mgs. of fish oil, the low carb crap. It was just a waste of time. There was no cure for what ails me. I was just growing old.

I found myself getting more depressed as each day dawned. Thoughts of getting old sapped me of my strength, and even began altering my personality. Friends, young and old, who have known me for years commented on how my disposition seemed to have changed.

No doubt that at least some of these feelings came from the extended bouts of reoccurring dizziness and nausea that I had been experiencing daily for over three months. Never before in my life had I been so sick for such a long period of time.

I was ready to just give up.

Suicide? No. To me, that’s never an option. But I could envision allowing myself to drift away and one day just not wake up. (“And there I was…GONE!”)

That’s how bad things got.

Then, a few days ago, my attitude miraculously and inexplicably changed. I woke up to a wondrous Saturday morning next to a beautiful woman who loves me with her whole heart. I got out of bed and fixed breakfast for my two oldest grandchildren who had spent the night. After that, I went out to the barn and fed my horses and my pony, and I played with my dog and my two cats.

I have just beaten Benign Positional Vertigo, and I am feeling physically fantastic. I have a marvelous role in a new play for which I hadn’t even auditioned. I was begged by the producer to accept the role without even an audition. (And I always thought that this woman intensely disliked me!) And the staged, dramatic reading for a new play that I have written is coming up in just two short weeks. I lived on a beautiful horse farm in rural Connecticut with loving family close by, and huge crowd of friends who genuinely care about me.

Realizing all of that, I guess I simply decided that I had had just about enough of this depression and this feeling sorry for myself shit.

Yes. I am aging.

Yes. There are certain things I could once do without a second thought that would put me in the Intensive Care Unit if I attempted them today.

I also know that I am in the best physical shape that I’ve ever been in my life.

Also, today I realize that Icould never have been the person that I am today at a younger age. I think I finally have come to understand that age comes with some drawbacks, but it also brings with it a whole bunch of gifts that are out of reach for a younger person.

Really. It was pretty much just as simple as that.

My name is Jim. I am a fifty-six year old man who is in better shape that a lot of people half my age and who has got everything in the world to live for. So many people would kill for the life that I lead, and here I just spent the last few weeks feeling sorry for myself because I’m getting older.

What the hell is up with that?

I look in the mirror and I see a man with gray hair, wrinkles, glasses, and, as of tomorrow at 11 a.m., a hearing aid.

Hell, I’ve got the greatest wife in the universe, wonderful friends, a fantastic family, the theater, terrific animals, my health, and Coronas in the fridge. Who could ask for anything more?

Am I the same person I was two weeks ago? Uh-huh. The only that is different is that I now know that I need a little mechanical assistance with my hearing. That’s it.

Just call me Steve Austin.

My friends and family will laugh with me and support me as they accompany me on this journey.

Never before have I let something get me down for as long as this thing has. And I swear to God that I won’t let it happen again.

It is time to get on with things and resume being the Jim Hetrick that most people, including myself, love.

The sun is shining and the days are full.

Life is good, . . . and it will soon be just a little louder and clearer.