CHILL, DICK, BIG-TIME

As a big fan of Dick Cheney, I have to say it’s worrying that he has put in a ten-hour day just two days after having a stent replaced in an artery. I know the complication from the angioplasty is not a function of stress; and I know Cheney feels the need to establish himself as an active player in a city where any physical weakness is regarded as some sort of failure. But giving absolutely no ground to a serious health condition seems to me to be a kind of Washington machismo that should be beneath Cheney. No-one would complain if he took a week off. Invasive surgeries are shocks to the system; stress, while not directly related to his current ailment, is nevertheless a factor in weakening one’s physical well-being. One of the things I have learned from living with a serious illness is that it isn’t always the smartest tactic to give it no ground. A tree that bends in the wind endures. A tree that will not budge will snap. Washington, like many other power-centers, is already a deeply unhealthy place. People work far too long hours; they are forbidden by the outdated rules of political propriety to seek psychological counseling; they are not supposed to be sick; they are barely allowed to sleep more than five hours a night. A pager or cell phone is attached to them at all hours, even on weekends, to keep their brain connected to their job. Rest, exercise, recuperation, sleep: all these are seen as failures of the will. This is hooey. (Yeah, I know I’m writing this at 1am, but I’ll sleep till 10 in the morning.) I admire Cheney’s calm acceptance of the largely genetic ticker problems he has to deal with. But someone needs to tell him to cool it, that less is more. W seems incapable of it. Isn’t this what a spouse is for?