I think most of you out there in reader land already have some inkling that growing old definitely has its challenges. This week Ol’ Dutch got an up close and personal reminder about growing old thanks to a quick trip to the Emergency Room. No one is sure where the saying about “not for sissies” came from originally, but it's been attributed to the famous movie star Bette Davis who also had a pillow with that embroidered on it. 

Now, before anyone gets their panties all in a bunch on here – especially Miss Trixie – about using the term “sissies,” it's commonly thought to mean someone who is timid or weak. And, let me tell you, growing old is definitely not for someone who is timid or weak. 

So, it was just this past weekend that Ol’ Dutch came home all stove up from his daily sojourn into the mountains looking for the elusive elk. Generally, “stove up” means a person is done in, sore, crippled up, over exhausted or other variations of a hurtful condition. And I was definitely that way. 

This is opposed to being “stove in” which is far worse and probably something a person won't recover from without a very long incarceration in the local medical chop shop.  

But anyway, last Saturday, Ol’ Dutch came home from chasing elk all over Hell’s half acre and the soreness I had been having in my leg suddenly escalated to the point I got worried. Now, it takes quite a bit to get Ol’ Dutch to get out of his easy chair and face what might be a long night in the hospital E.R. but it was painful enough and getting worse by the minute. 

Of course, anyone of my advanced age, as Miss Trixie so readily reminds me of on a daily basis, knows that can be a sign of a blood clot in your leg. And that is never a good thing to happen so it's not something to ignore if you experience that.  So, Ol’ Dutch took the 15-minute drive over to the E.R. to get it checked out. 

Of course, I said my prayers on the way over there as connecting with The Great Physician is always a good idea, too. The staff at the hospital was great as always and soon had me laid out on a bed, wired and plumbed and already for whatever showed up. They covered me in a hot blanket and after a cold and wet day on the mountain, I don't believe I ever appreciated anything as much as that. 

The nurses hooked me up to the EKG and took all my vitals, which proved to be as normal as can be. So that was a good start to the check up at least. The doctor came in and he was extremely nice and ran a scan on my leg showing me the live action video of the pulsing of my veins and arteries in my leg and it was amazing to say the least. 

Gone are the days when a person had to wait for results for a week or so. Here he was able to scan and diagnose almost instantly what was wrong. Here was some new-fangled thing-a-ma-bob that showed instantly the inside of my leg. And there it was for all to see, open veins and pumping away like pump jack in the oil field. 

So, I guess all's well that ends well as they say as it appears that the diagnosis was that old fat men probably should not climb 1,000 feet a day for 13 straight days at 11,000 feet. 

Well, the doctor didn't say that exactly but did allude to maybe I had over done it a tad.  Now if I can just get Miss Trixie to bring me a hot blanket, I will reach certain Nirvana once again.  

Kevin Kirkpatrick spends his days fishing, hunting, ATVing, hiking or making people laugh. His email is Kevin@TroutRepublic.com. Additional news can be found at www.troutrepublic.com or on Twitter at TroutRepublic.