If I knew I was going to live this long, I would’ve taken better care of myself. Who of us hasn’t heard that saying or used it? Don’t believe it. Only the good die young…really! How about: He/she wasn’t sick a day of his/her life. Complete cow patty (trying to be good here). There are all kinds of sayings about growing old that are so far off track. It’s like life’s GPS had a stroke. My favorite saying is, “Getting old isn’t for wimps.”
The truth is that we are all living longer, and as a result, we are dealing with health issues that weren’t issues 150 years ago. You know why? You would have been long dead at age 50, and everyone would have been saying you lived a long, fruitful life.
I just read an article about life expectancy (and I’m paraphrasing here) that says a person would have been lucky to make it past age 35 by the middle of the 19th century, and it was like that for centuries. Since then, life expectancy has jumped into the late 70s for women and, I think, the early 70s for men. I will refrain from saying anything about that so I will not be perceived as being sexist (But you can fill in what you want right here).
I have spent most of my life being active. I consistently worked out for years; I’ve played multiple sports and still do. I used to run miles and participate in 5- and 10-K runs, and I quit smoking many times. That’s what you do when you’re good at something.
As a result of trying to stay fit and healthy, I am in constant ache (yes, ache). I can’t stay up past 9:00 o’clock in the evening, and I really don’t stay up until that time. I tend to doze off sometime before that and wake up at 9:00 so I can go to bed. I can hear all those heads nodding in agreement.
This has been a tough year in dealing with the passing of acquaintances, relatives, and celebrities. They were all due to natural causes. Another misleading statement. My mom died of lung cancer years ago, and it was not natural causes; it was a result of a life of smoking (Just to clarify: my mom loved smoking and made it clear she would do it again if she had the choice, in spite of the consequences). Ben Franklin had the most accurate statement about getting old. “Nothing is certain except death and taxes,.” and paying taxes might be the leading cause of death. Just saying.
Since I have made it way past the ages of when my parents died, I am now dealing with some age-related issues. That’s what my 30-something doctor calls it. Getting up many times each night to go to the bathroom. Joints that ache the next day because I helped my wife bring the groceries from the car. The inability to read anything without your glasses, and where did I leave those damn things?
My feet hurt, my back hurts, my knees hurt, my hands hurt, and my feelings hurt since one of my sons dared to refer to me as being “elderly.” Hey, he’s really not that far behind me.
I can deal with most of it. I knew it was coming, but the hardest part has been the handful of pills I have to take. Just a year and a half ago, I was taking zero pills. I had perfect blood pressure, and still do. Cholesterol was not an issue; I didn’t need anything for my prostate (how things change), and I’ve never needed blood thinners or any heart medication, and still don’t. I do have a list of meds and supplements the doctors want me to take each day, with the goal of keeping me alive. I guess it’s my payment for living this long. But I’m preaching to the choir. I know most of my readers are in the same demographic as I am, ages 65 to death.
Another result of being in “our” demographics are all those medication commercials we get while trying to watch TV. Thanks to digital delivery of your television watching, advertisers can target folks like us based on our age, what we buy, and what we watch.
How am I dealing with being a certain age, the same as I did before I got here? I’m still playing softball, but I bat further down in the order and need a courtesy runner more often than not. I also still tee it up but can no longer crush the ball like I used to. I have had to move up to the “forward tee,” and if I hear anyone refer to it as the women’s tee, I will beat them within an inch of their life with my driver, which has a senior shaft. It doesn’t take strength to chip or putt so I’m still valuable in a scramble tournament.
I’m going to wrap it up right here. There important things I need to get done. Take my pile of mid-day pills. Visit the bathroom a few times and take a nap. It’s required. It’s right there is the “Being a Senior” handbook. I think it’s on page 143. Don’t believe me, check it out. Of course, you’ll have to find your glasses first.
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