Since I stopped spending much time on commercial websites and more time exploring the blogs on IndieWeb platforms, I have developed a type and a preference for the kinds of blogs I like. There's plenty to choose from.

I like tech but not too much tech

For better or worse, it takes a fairly technical person to get involved in blogging. A lot of the people I read are developers of some sort or other even if they don't write about that part of their lives that much. I enjoy reading about the relationship people have with the tech in their life and how that has evolved over time. I find it interesting to read about what people are making, although if a blog primarily consists of code blocks and inside baseball talk about the nuances of particular programming languages, I'm probably going to move on. Most people do a pretty good job at striking a balance.

I like smart and smart-ass but not people who think themselves smarter than everyone else

There are a few bloggers who consistently write about how dumb people are and it's a big old turn off. I like smart people. I like people smarter than me (not hard). I even like people with a smart ass sense of humor but I have worked for too long with stereotypical computer support people who think all end users are stupid and I'm so very weary of that attitude. I think it's great to point out the misconceptions of others but it's boorish if that's the main thing someone writes about.

I like people whose political content is about peace, compassion, equality and diversity

In other words, I'm not a fan of, nor will I read very much of what passes as conservative ideology these days. I don't want to live in a bubble but I'm just not going to waste any of my remaining time on this planet engaging with people who don't believe in climate change or the importance of stamping out white supremacy or in allowing people to be as non-traditional as they want to be. Luckily, I haven't run into too much of that in the circles where I run.

I like consistency

If you are the kind of blogger who just spits out content day after day, I'm here to tell you to keep it up! I realize not everybody has that in them and that's OK. With me, you just don't have to worry that you post too much. If you only write a few paragraphs a week, it's harder to get to know you, to develop curiosity about your the things you share. I don't always have the time or the inclination to read 5,000 word missives, but I like knowing what folks are up to.

I like friendly

I'm from the south and have lived here my whole life. Down here we have a sort of innate familiarity. We are apt to ask how your Mama's doing even if we don't know her. I like people who come across with that same sort of vibe, letting pieces of their real lives leak out. I absolutely do not mind hearing about you feeling tired taking your kid to basketball practice or shocking news about your grandma's affair. I like authentic people who don't posture, who are just themselves, struggling like the rest of us to make sense of a confusing world without resorting to barrier building between themselves and their readers.

For about the past five years, it's occurred to me regularly that two things: my advancing age and my neglect of what people call "taking care of yourself" were going to bring about the end of days before I'm ready for them. My dad, only seventeen years my senior, proclaims to be "ready to go," but I am not. Not at all.

What's happened to me isn't unique. I developed painful arthritis in both knees after a lifetime of being physically active. I eventually had both of them replaced in 2020, but I never bounced back from it. The surgeries coincided with a prolonged bout of depression, one of may I've dealt with over the past 40 years. Complicating that even further, I came down with Guillain–Barré syndrome. By the time I recovered, I'd gained weight and had almost no endurance capacity. Walking a mile was about as much as I could do.

Recently, the slightest bit of physical exertion has been leaving me winded. I have been having real problems with fatigue. Last week my feet and lower legs started to swell in a way that hasn't ever happened before. I made a doctor's appointment with some difficulty because it's America in the 21st century. I didn't really want to think too much about what I might hear, but I was prepared for anything. After prescribing some medication and cautioning me against excessive sodium consumption, the doctor quickly diagnosed me with congestive heart failure and referred me to a cardiologist, which is where this story pauses.

I'm not the type of person who obsesses about their health. I'm not going to WebMD to read everything they have on my condition. I'm just going to wait on the cardiologist to tell me what I need to know. I'm shaken up a bit. I just turned 60 in February and though I'd have more time before this kind of stuff started happening. I take some comfort in knowing that my father-in-law was diagnosed with the same thing 20 years ago. My dad has had three heart attacks. They started in his 40s and he took another 15 years to even quit smoking. Hopefully, I'll have that kind of luck.

I'm already grateful for each day. As a recovering alcoholic with 16 years of sobriety, I've already gotten one second lease on life, one that I have taken full advantage of. I count my blessings every day and draw a lot of strength from a loving family and a fulfilling life that allows me to pursue the things that interest me. While this news has knocked me a bit of a loop, I don't see myself falling into a self-pity trap. It is what it is. I would rather not spend time moping when I can be doing something that brings me joy.

Hopefully, whatever treatment plan I get will alleviate the symptoms I've had and give me more energy. I have the motivation to do stuff, just not the capacity I'd like. I'm lucky to have Wonder Woman who is supportive and loving and not full of "I told you so's". There are plenty of people worse off than me. I'm keeping that in mind.

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