Making "someday" happen--the years of living dangerously.

Somewhere, sometime, "someday" slips into our lives. Sometimes "someday" is restless, as in, "Someday I would like to travel to all seven continents." Sometimes "someday" is bold and fearless--"Someday I want to climb mountains." Sometimes "someday" is intellectual (learn a second language), athletic (windsurf), or involves new motor skills (play a musical instrument).

Someday I will do all the exciting, unusual, and adventuresome things that have instilled in me awe and a sense of wonder from childhood. Someday I will indulge my wanderlust and travel to exotic faraway places.

For many of us, someday is elusive. We burn through the years of our lives with relentless toil. Our days belong to our families, our patients, our profession, our churches and our communities--they are anything but "our" days. The inexorable passage of our days does not include the proverbial "someday."

This is the personal epiphany of an obsessive-compulsive, workaholic, personality type A physician who fortunately "got it" in time and spent ten adrenaline-soaked, memory-producing years making "someday" happen.

My message is perhaps most appropriate for physicians ages 40 to 65. Medical school, internship, residency, and the early years of establishing a medical practice are pretty much survival situations. Time and money are precious, obligations to family and practice dear; however, it's never too early to draft a personal list of unique life experiences to do "someday." With proper planning, even the young physician may be able to cross a few items off their life list.

The ideal time to make someday happen is that great ennui-inducing epoch called middle age. Without shaking things up, without indulging whim and passion, the middle third of our lives will morph into "muddle age." The vagaries of health, our inevitable decrease in stamina, the certainty of death, and the uncertainty of lifespan make the deferment of someday an injudicious proposition.

The idea of creating a list of extraordinary things to do in your lifetime is not unique and has been written about extensively. Indeed, Googling "things to do before you die" resulted in 28,200 hits--various life list iterations up to a thousand items long. A urologist I know was my inspiration to get my act together. He frequently operated the same day I did at North Kansas City Hospital. We're roughly the same age. Shortly after we both turned 40, whenever I saw him and inquired what he was up to, the answers were esoterically diverse and uniquely spellbinding: "windsurfing off the north shore of Venezuela," "climbing mountains in the Americas and Europe," "backpacking in Patagonia," "living with a family in Mexico for a month to learn Spanish," "photographing exotic wildlife in Africa." You get the idea.

"And you, John? What have you been up to?"

What could I say? The most exciting things I experienced were living vicariously through his travels and adventures. "Well, I went to the Amish festival in Jamesport and ... ah ... ummh ... the crafts exhibit at Silver Dollar City."

He was always gracious enough not to say "Far out, John, you're really living life on the edge." Eventually I asked why he was doing all these things. He explained simply that we're getting old; we're not going to live forever. We've got to go for it with both hands and make these things happen. We've got the money, we can spare the time without short-changing our practices and families. In another 10 to 15 years we may not be able to physically do a lot of these adventures; we could even be dead. So just do it! Time, money, not living forever, getting old, so go for it. I got it! I also would make "someday" happen.

Over the next several weeks I cobbled together an extensive list of things I had longed to do someday (Table 1). My wife and I began to travel. We visited all seven continents. Not ones for constructing itineraries and bearing the burden of logistical planning, we used the services of the Abercrombie and Kent (A&K) Travel Company. Their trips are spectacular. For adventure travel to third world and remote locations, we used Mountain Travel Sobek. Marvelous months of high adventure followed.

The most exciting day was in Queensland, New Zealand where I parachuted from 9,000 feet, rode a jet boat on the Shotover River, and bungee jumped off the Kawarau River Bridge. The most dangerous adventure was mountain climbing. On Mt. Rainer, a winter storm created a chill factor of -30 degrees below zero. Fierce winds, up to 90 mph, blew two Japanese climbers into a crevasse. Our climbing party turned back 500 feet below the summit. A year later I successfully reached the 19,340-foot summit of Mt. Kilimanjaro. Two of our climbing party, suffering from high altitude cerebral and pulmonary edema, were rushed to safety down the mountain by native porters.

For 10 years I happily and enthusiastically whittled away at my life list and scratched off most. Then the years of living dangerously came to an abrupt halt. My mother's health failed and I had to manage her affairs and look after her needs. She died last year. A son-in-law was diagnosed with a brain tumor. In the interim I developed a number of moderately severe arthritic and degenerative joint diseases that curtailed my intense aerobic exercise program and the high level of physical fitness that enabled me to complete many of these very strenuous endeavors.

I'm 61 years of age. I do not remember my 347th patient encounter or the 157,353rd. I do not remember my 6,782th cataract surgical procedure. But I do remember the years of living dangerously. I remember in blazing Technicolor and Dolby sound when each "someday" became the here and now.

I hope and believe there are other adventures to come. I still would like to hike the Inca Trail. There are other countries I hope to visit. I still want to fly in the open cockpit of a biplane. Presently I greatly enjoy golfing with my buddies Ken, Carl, and Chuck--I have yet to break 90.

I urge you to formulate your own list. Bring change, adventure, mental rigor, physical challenge, and calculated risk-taking into your life.

I made "someday" happen. You can also. "Someday" it may be too late.

Carpe diem!

Reprinted with permission from the Missouri Medicine Medical Journal, Sept/Oct 2005.

RELATED ARTICLE: Table 1

Life List to "Make Happen"

Someday I would like to:

Visit all seven continents completed

Climb the highest mountain on a continent completed (Mt. Kilimanjaro)

Trek in Nepal, Bhutan, and see Mt. Everest completed

Parachute, parasail, paraglide, bungee jump completed

Whitewater raft completed

Fly in a glider completed and open cockpit biplane not completed

Backpack and live in a tent for a week completed

Canoe the Boundary Waters of Minnesota completed

Go to NASA's adult space camp completed

Go to NASA's Aviation Challenge completed

Fly in a World War II bomber completed

Visit most of the islands in the Caribbean in the winter completed

Try rock climbing and rappelling completed

Take a course in combat pistol shooting completed

Do a llama hut-to-hut hike on the 10th Mountain Division trail completed

Drive a team of sled dogs and winter backpack completed

Learn to fly fish completed

Helicopter through the islands of Hawaii and on the glaciers of Alaska completed

Learn to play golf completed and break 90 not completed (a work in progress)

Run a marathon (6) completed, complete a half-Ironman Triathlon (2) completed

Go to a film festival completed

Hike the Alps completed

Scuba dive and snorkel completed

Hike the Inca Trail and visit Machu Pecchu not completed

Buy a Porsche and go to high performance driving school completed

Win a travel picture contest (Kansas City Star) completed

Hike into and out of the Grand Canyon completed

Complete an Outward Bound experience (2) completed

Ride a bicycle a hundred miles in a day completed

Meditate in the Potala in Lhasa, Tibet completed

Fund a Chair in Ophthalmology completed

Achieve marksman expertise with Olympic air rifle completed

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by John C. Hagan III, MD

Dr. John Hagan has been a Clinic advisor to the American Running Association for over 25 years, responding to all inquiries relating to running and eye health.