Clearly, John Paul–the most athletic pope in modern history–is playing hurt. The surgery on his thighbone last April is not healing as fast as he had hoped. His left hand shakes, giving rise to repeated rumors–repeatedly denied–that he is suffering from Parkinson’s disease or even something worse. But the pope’s physicians insist that their patient is quite healthy for a man of 74 and that all he needs is to stay off his feet and allow his leg to heal. “I told the pope he could go to the United Nations only if the trip was going to be brief,” said orthopedic surgeon Gianfranco Fineschi. “But I knew he planned to take a longer trip that would have involved a lot of walking around . . . he would have been on his feet too long.”

Although John Paul may not be in immediate danger of death, the feeling in Rome is that this papacy has entered its final phase. Across the city, even sophisticates have joined the papal health watch. “He doesn’t look well,” worried the wife of an Italian diplomat after watching the pope on television. Between serving drinks at the Inghilterra Hotel, Mario, the legendary bar-keep, shook his head knowingly and whispered, “They say it’s cancer.” At the Vatican, officials of the Roman Curia, who see the pope daily, marveled at his mental stamina. But, conceded Italian Cardinal Achilli Silvestrini, “He is living the last chapter.”

How well John Paul accepts this sense of ending worries Vatican officials. Many fear he will grow depressed if he faces a long convalescence. Just a year ago the pope was hardy enough to walk in the mountains and travel at his usual relentless pace. Not since Roman pontiffs led armies has a pope pursued a more vigorous life. Since his election in 1978 John Paul has left Rome for 177 trips, including a record 62 overseas. His goal has been simple and astonishing: he’s determined to become the first pope to visit every nation that is home to Roman Catholics.

“John Paul II is the moral leader of the world,” says Raymond Flynn, the U.S. ambassador to the Vatican. Perhaps he is. But in recent months some of his closest advisers have found him too eager to play that role. Only very firm warnings from his secretariat of state persuaded the pope to abandon a dangerous trip to Sarajevo a few weeks ago. “We told him, it is one thing to risk your own life, but you have no right to risk the lives of those who travel with you, or those who’ve come to see you,” said one Vatican official. Instead, the pope delivered his plea for peace in Bosnia and Herzegovina from the safety of the Vatican, where his speech received little attention from the media. “This is a pope who understands symbolism and likes to use it,” says Belgian Archbishop Jan Schotte, an official of the Roman Curia. “The power of that symbolism is not the same when he speaks from Rome.”

John Paul is not just a symbol, however: he is a man on the brink of old age. And by all accounts, he is not a very docile patient. Thirteen years ago he bounced back from a gunman’s bullet that nearly took his life. But after his latest operation, he refused to limit his public appearances to two a day, as doctors ordered, and now he is paying the price. He faces at least four months of enforced rest, and his physicians have warned him that he will never resume his old vigor. The signs of aging are evident: he sometimes cups his ear to hear and hates to use his cane, which he often hides behind his back. The pope’s next trip overseas is scheduled for January, and it promises to be a real test of strength. He visits Manila for a world youth festival similar to the one that he attended last year in Denver. From there, he’s off to the Fiji Islands, New Guinea and Australia. There are no term limits for popes, and long-lived pontiffs can present special problems. In his last years, Pius XII was a recluse; access to him was strictly controlled by his imperious house-keeper, Mother Pascalina Lehnert. During the declining years of Paul VI, the Vatican came to a virtual standstill. Like other governments, the Vatican tends to put important matters on hold when officials are uncertain who will next hold power. But John Paul has a strong–almost hubristic–will. He believes he has a divine mission to personally lead the church into the third millennium. Indeed, he seems to regard that as his special fate. The question is whether he will be strong enough to be more than a mere symbol.