Two months ago, Martha and I were talking about our retirement plan. Just three more years, we figured. Pay off the house, build up the 401k a little more.
Then came that day.
There was a conveyor belt jam on the main line. Production was down. Everyone was standing around waiting.
I knew I had to crawl under there and clear it. It's what I've done a thousand times before.
But when I got down on my knees... something was different. The pain was so sharp I actually gasped out loud.
And then came the moment I'll never forget.
I couldn't get up.
Picture this: You're under a machine, on your knees, with five guys standing around watching. And you literally cannot stand up without help.
Jimmy, who's young enough to be my son, had to help me to my feet. In front of everyone.
The humiliation was worse than the pain.
That night, Martha said what we'd both been thinking: "Mike, you can't keep doing this."
But what choice did I have?
Surgery? I'd seen what happened to Bill from shipping. Six months off work. Came back different. Never quite the same.
Disability? At 62? Good luck finding another job that pays what I'm making now.
Early retirement? On what money? We needed every one of those last three years.
I felt trapped. Like my own body was sabotaging everything I'd worked for.
Maybe you know that feeling too.