I call them maintenance days. One of the interesting things about getting older is that all the different body parts may need some maintenance, especially if they were neglected early on.

For many years I embraced the delusional idea that western medicine was all about greed and medications, and I could live above and beyond that system.

Open Heart Surgery in 2014 altered my view, and quickly.

Older adults love to talk about health and medicine, but I pick my moments; I think old talk kills as many people as bad hearts. When anyone says “at our age,” the conversation is over for me.

To my surprise, the maintenance idea has worked much better than the ostrich-like holistic approach, which is still a part of my health care. It just can’t be everything for me.

The farm and my care need maintenance. So do I.

Those western doctors have been good to me.

My heart is strong, my diabetes is under firm control, my cholesterol is low, so is my blood pressure, and my immune system fought back heroically to knock out the nasty virus that ran amok in my body.

Now, it’s the turn of my teeth to be maintained. I feel my whole body is being renovated. I have five teeth that need work and an excellent dentist – Jacob Merryman – to do the job.

I imagine it will take most, if not all, of the morning. And he loves to have his picture taken.

This dental work feels like a big deal to me, but the good news is that it can all be taken care of, and my teeth will most likely remain in my mouth for the rest of my life.

I’ve arranged with Care Credit to take out an interest-free loan (if it’s paid on time) in case the bill is too high for my bank account, which seems likely. I can take a year or so to pay.

I don’t need anyone to drive me or pick me up, but I am told I’ll be even more goofy than usual this afternoon when I get home. A long nap maybe with some music in my ear.

Maria knows the drill. I’ll miss Zinnia, my shadow.

Zinnia is welcome at the dentist’s, but I’m leaving her home.

Too long for her to sit around, she’ll be happier dozing in the backyard or visiting Maria in her studio or finding something gross to eat. (Good news, when I posted a picture of Maria’s newest quilt a couple of days ago, at least three people offered to buy it. That is a beautiful use of the blog, thanks. She so deserves her success.)

So I’ll have a light breakfast, check up on my garden, and head out. I’ll stop by my Amish friends to pick up some cookies and donuts to bring. Moise and I have been chatting up there regularly, and it is good to talk to him regularly.

We are in a good place; our friendship will endure.

I see maintenance as a gift.

I see my body as undergoing overdo restoration; so far, so good. I am healthier than I can ever remember being. And happier. I have everything I need, and more.

More later.