Roger Zee Memoirs
Health 3 12/01/20
As the years rolled on towards middle age, like a car, my body suffered its fair share of nicks and dings! In my late twenties, I took to lifting weights and somehow managed to fracture my right wrist. Didn't get it checked out and forced myself to play a $35 gig on it. As a result, it never healed correctly. So determined. So foolish. And now too painful to play the bass anymore with a pick! Welcome to another excerpt from my memoirs, "Life And Times of a Pandemic Musician." B-|
When I turned 39, I plunged into Taekwondo training at Chon-Ji Academy in Teaneck, NJ, a block away from my house. Never much of an athlete, but enthralled by all the Bruce Lee and Chuck Norris movies and taking a break from music at the time, I thought, "What the Hell!" After one week, my back completely locked up! I could not sleep for three days. Had to stand on the bus on the way to work at Columbia-Presbyterian Hospital because I couldn't handle the pain when I sat down. Finally, my wife Wendy, a life-long fan of chiropractory, talked me into a session with her chiropractor. After one visit, I could sleep again. After the next and last, my body returned to normal, only better! On the journey to my Second Degree Black Belt at Chon-Ji Academy, I would eventually break some knuckles, all of my toes, and suffer numerous sprains. But there's nothing more exhilarating than kicking and punching someone when sparring! Some call it physical chess. What an adrenaline rush from the danger! But so many benefits spread to my bass playing. Accuracy, agility, coordination, and stamina multiplied geometrically. Thank you Grand Master Brett Casser! ^_^
The next medical misadventure occurred after my divorce when my ex-wife set me up with her father and son team of general practitioners on Central Avenue in Yonkers. I went for a checkup which included a chest x-ray on their ancient machine. Afterwards, Dr. Harry called me into his office with a scary look on his face. He put the x-ray up on the viewer and pointed out this big white, cloudy region on my chest. "You see this, looks like you've got lung cancer. We need to get you immediately to the hospital for a CT scan." Well that sure put the fear of God in me! :(
It took a few days to line up and then another couple to actually get a reading. But in the end, what they saw derived from some very scarred lungs and not cancer. You see, I've always prided myself on finishing what I start and never letting anything get in the way! When I began training in Taekwondo, I would never let a cold, sore throat, sprains, or broken toes stop me. That's how I did in my lungs. ^_^
The next few years on the health front passed peacefully enough. Until one day when in the fresh produce area of Stop & Shop in White Plains, NY, I got a phone call from Dr. Harry that I will never forget! He had just gotten back the chemistry results from my annual physical and my blood sugar had shot through the roof! Diabetes here I come! He barked to immediately buy a finger stick device and take readings twice a day. :O
There's a reason they call me the "King of Denial," LOL! I asked myself, "How could I develop diabetes? I'm thin, fit, strong -- a Taekwondo Black Belt!" All the while forgetting about (make that suppressing) watching my Grandma pull up her dress at Thanksgiving. Then pull down her stocking, and shoot insulin into her thigh. So I did my customary denial thing and just ignored his calls and warnings -- for ten years! And as a complete sugar/chocolate/ice cream freak, I continued to consume my midnight bag of Pepperidge Farm Orange Milanos or Häagen-Dazs NY Super Fudge Chunk ice cream! Then on through the next day gorging on grapefruit and oranges. :)
For this indulgence, I paid a terrible price! It eventually lead to a five-day heart attack on Halloween 2016 and the begining of my reign as the "Cover Boy" for White Plains Hospital Magazine. But before that happened, a few more diseases would raise their ugly heads... So on yet another cloudy day in the Covid-19 Apocalypse filled with deniers and inveterate liars, I remain pretty much locked in my White Plains apartment awaiting a spot Corona Virus vaccine line. Thinking that with my medical history, I might just come right after the front-line workers. The CDC will figure that out today at their meeting. Until then, I'll just pick up my MIM Fender Jazz Bass and work up all the Harvey Brooks bass lines on his Sixties albums like "Super Session," "The Electric Flag," the Doors' "Soft Parade," Dylan's "Highway 61 Revisited" and "New Morning," Seals & Croft's "Greatest Hits," and Richie Haven's "Mixed Bag." One <3
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Richie Havens
©2020 Roger Zee
