Choices

When I was growing up, I was a big fan of "Choose Your Own Adventure" books. For those who don't know, these were books that laid out a scenario (and adventure, essentially) and would present the reader with two (or more) choices at vary stages. The choice the reader made would lead them to another page (different for each choice) and, thus, the adventure could be different each time.

Early on, I suspect these were intended as a moral test -- effectively, choose the "right" choice; get a reward; choose the wrong/immoral/unethical things, face the consequences. Eventually, they morphed into more arbitrary results -- so even choosing what seemed the right thing might end poorly; simply because the book's author wanted to make things less predictable (which, as a reader, can be disappointing, I'm sure; but, as an adult, makes total sense (i.e., things rarely go the way they should).

When I was in college, in a moment of self-awareness, I reflected on choices I'd made ... most notably, which college I was going to attend. I had been accepted to two, and my choice really came down to a gut-check. I thought, "if I had chosen the other college, I'd have never met the friends I've made here -- which I'll have for the rest of my life -- and I'd never have met my girlfriend; and my career choices would be different, etc." Of course, years later, the girlfriend is long gone; and of the many friends I made, there are but a few I speak with regularly.

The difference between life and the books is pretty stark. In the book, when I didn't like the way something turned out, I could just start over. Or, better still, I could just go back to the place where I made a "bad" choice and pick it up from there. I didn't have to necessarily start over; just start from where I needed to make a different choice. In life, we don't get that option. Each choice you make (well, the meaningful ones, anyway) impact your life in ways that are immediate *and* long-lasting.

For example, this past week, I had to make two such choices (well, I had to really only make one; but I had to think about making two).

Back in July, my knee began bothering me again. I was convinced I'd torn my meniscus. Now, I've gone through two surgeries -- they're not terrible; the recovery time is about a week (a few days off your feet, then a cane for support; within a week I was walking freely, albeit gingerly).

Over the past two months, the pain varied from intense to nearly insignificant. When I went to see the surgeon -- of course -- it was insignificant ... until the last visit. He gave me a steroid injection, and finally recommended surgery. He's not convinced it's the meniscus, but he's looking to perform something called microfracture surgery (which has been helpful for people). I've had to do a lot of debating about this .... there are times, even now, my knee feels okay; and other times where I need to take an anti-inflammatory. Even today, I'm still not 100 percent convinced I *want* to do the surgery (granted, the results in the link above don't entirely pertain to me; I don't put my body through the same rigors as a professional athlete ... my goal is simply to eventually be able to exercise, lose weight, and return to playing recreational basketball; something he seems to think is realistic). Still, the key was the surgeon said he didn't see any way it could make things worse (although, secretly, I'm still hoping he sees a meniscus tear as the cause of the problems).

Another related choice is the method of anesthesia -- the first time, because I have what's known as a 'difficult airway,' it took nearly an hour to intubate me. The second time, it was proposed that I go through the intubation while awake (something that isn't nearly as much fun as it sounds -- especially, when the amnesiac they give you doesn't actually work, and you remember every. single. moment.).

This time, the suggestion is an epidural, followed by conscious sedation (so, in other words, no intubation) -- there's numbness from the waist down; and there's a smaller amount of anesthesia (so you're more "napping" than "sleeping.") It still sounds semi-terrifying (but, then again, as we get older, and our misguided conceptions of immortality strip away, *every* surgery sounds terrifying).

The second "choice" I had to make was an even more difficult one (although, as I said, it stopped being a choice). My brother-in-law -- who works as a custodian in a school district -- heard of an opening at another school, and proposed it to me. He made very good points:

1. It's pretty decent money
2. It's pretty decent vacation time, etc.
3. It's an evening shift (so, I could continue to look for jobs/interview/network during the day).

It's a compelling argument. On the negative side, it's a step away from what I've spent my entire career doing. It's not that it's *beneath* me (those who know me know I'm not particularly judgmental), it's just that, looking at it from the perspective of a hiring manager, it's a warning sign. If I were hiring someone to work for me (back when I was a magazine editor, for example), I wanted to see progressive experience in that field. A departure would certainly raise questions. I'd like to think the simple answer of, "it paid more than unemployment, and the shift enabled me to work while still pursuing a job in my field," would satisfy a potential hiring manager; but you never know.

So, I spent days thinking about the choice, and agonizing, going back and forth. Ultimately, it didn't matter. When my brother-in-law spoke to the contact, he learned the position had been filled already. In many ways, I was relieved, because it meant I didn't have to make the choice; although even that is misguided, because for all I know, the job could've been a dream job for me.

And, somewhat soberly, I realize, there really isn't a page I can go back to, to see where the "wrong" choice was made and start over.