Motley Crue

February 6, 1994

February 6, 1994

Matt, Alex, John and Sam in outdoor hot tub in the snow.
Matt, Alex, John and Sam in outdoor hot tub in the snow.
Chris and Alex catching up with school work at night.
Chris and Alex catching up with school work at night.

When I started to write this diary blog I realized this was the last time my family and I skied. How could 23 years fly by so quickly? Why did we stop? We didn’t make a decision to give up the sport, it just happened – like far too many of my relationships (and in some cases, obsessions) end, arbitrarily and without warning.

Uncle MattMy sister Janet and I taught ourselves to ski as children. I introduced my husband John to the sport around 1980.  We invited John’s brother Matt along on our first and subsequent ski trips. In no time at all, John and Matt skied advanced slopes while I stayed stuck between beginner and intermediate. I broke my hand at a Motley Crue concert in 1985 (See November 28, 1985) which didn’t help. It heightened my fear of falling and re-injuring my hand, which made me nervous. A nervous skier is a bad skier.

CD pondering
CD pondering
Alex enjoying a snack
Alex enjoying a snack

Chris, Sam and Alex surpassed me because by nature children are fearless – and being close to the ground, they didn’t have as far to fall.  Other than our final trip, we skied at Deer Valley in Park City, Utah.

Matt, Bryan, Sam, Alex, Chris
Matt, Bryan, Sam, Alex, Chris

On this trip, we skied in Oregon, a vacation arranged by one of John’s high school and college friends Bryan Arakelian.  As usual, everyone’s favorite Uncle Matt came along. In addition to being a great skier and musician, Bryan is an all-star chef so it was gourmet dining every night at the condo. Due to deadlines, I stayed home half the time to write which was fine with me since not only was I unable to keep up with the grown-ups, I could no longer keep up with the kids. We had a great time.

Why was it our last ski vacation? I wish I knew.

November 28, 1985


november-28-1985

Backstage pass for Motley Crue show - "Theatre of Pain" is an apt name indeed!
Backstage pass for Motley Crue show – “Theatre of Pain” is an apt name indeed!

 

This take-away lesson is a good one; unfortunately, I still haven’t mastered it. Maybe my need to be a martyr is just too ingrained. Maybe I harbor an unnatural fear of doctors and hospitals. For whatever reason, I still delay dealing with potential health issues as long as possible.

Much like I minimize my own pain or maladies, I tend to discredit health problems in those nearest and dearest to me. I used to tell my children, don’t even try to tell me you’re sick unless I see blood or vomit.  In hindsight, perhaps this was not the healthiest atmosphere.

My mother was the best when I was sick - the opposite of me! She treated me like a princess. It's a wonder I didn't get addicted to being ill.
My mother was the best when I was sick – the opposite of me! She treated me like a princess. It’s a wonder I didn’t get addicted to being ill.

At the time, of course, I was absolutely convinced I was right.  Now I wonder if that was something I told myself because I was so terrified of the alternative. The possibility something serious might actually be wrong paralyzed me with fear. In order to stay calm and keep going, I had to convince myself my loved one’s complaints were only in their heads – no serious threat at all.

The Theatre of Pain concert program
The “Theatre of Pain” concert program

Of course, pretending serious threats don’t exist in no way minimizes or eliminates those threats. On several occasions – Sam’s surgery when she was six, J’s hospitalizations in the late 80s to name two – I felt the full force of the fear. Fortunately, my skepticism hadn’t caused a delay that jeopardized their health.

A rare photo of me exercising. I avoid doing anything pro-active for my health as much as I avoid going to the doctor.
A rare photo of me exercising. I avoid doing anything pro-active for my health as much as I avoid going to the doctor.

Maybe writing all of this down will get the lesson through my thick head at last. Don’t play games with your health – you only get one body. If there’s the slightest doubt about whether it’s serious, make time to see a doctor.