During some of my sojourns to that upper deck out back, I'm bombarded with myriad thoughts of everything from the peaceful/normal to the crazy/outlandish. And thinking about 'old' has it's place amongst the latter definition because there is no way on earth that my mind is ever going to convince it's vessel (my body) that it isn't getting 'old'. But here's the evidence:
The only time that I will accede to growing 'old' is when I need to play my "but I'm retired" card. Gets one out of some tight spots at times, not to mention a little hard-earned respect! And I have to admit that I was pleading with the clock to get me to my Medicare and Social Security, thus avoiding the current healthcare debacle. I'm blessed with a doctor who still accepts Medicare, and my Social Security easily covers my monthly necessities. However, in order to live a bit beyond my means, and to maintain a sense of direction, I've remained in the workforce on a part-time basis. Helps keep my sanity in check.
Okay, so what brings on this focus on 'aging'? Sitting on that deck observing a growing number of what are commonly known as 'age spots'. They say that for each new one, more brain cells have given up the fight. But again, you're going to have a tough time convincing my imaginative mind of that. And I still seem to have a brain full of names, numbers, addresses and information even from years ago! Okay, okay, so I'm not as physically daring as I used to be . . . no riding skateboards, or jumping down from more than three feet, lifting anything heavier than 15 lbs., and on and on. But I will NOT give up my kayaking, even if it means stooping to ask for help lifting it. Once I'm in it, I Am Woman!! Getting out of it may become another story. Like the gentleman said, "Age is mind over matter . . . if you don't mind, it doesn't matter". Or something like that. And thank God, my camera only weighs a few pounds.
Which brings up another blip. I'm being watched for Age Related Macular Degeneration. Now THAT would certainly put the cabosh on any photography. But I will go down fighting!
And another blip on the screen . . . a word that begins with 'os', continues with 'teo', and ends with 'perosis'. But, in my unfailing desire to look on the bright side, I'm in denial. I told my doctor that the DexaScan machine is lying. I feel no evidence of this unscrupulous disease, and therefore, do not have it. Until it makes itself known, I will continue on as is. But maybe being just a tad bit more careful when it comes to certain physical activities such as lifting, twisting, getting up too fast, etc.
Other undeniable observations: getting up more often at night (but still sleeping well), some days with more pains than not (but still taking only one med), out of shape and doing nothing about it (too pooped to whoop), getting the lonelies (until I come to my senses), thickening toenails (only two of 'em), wrinkles (character lines) brought on by sun worship, etc., and more gray hair than not (which I actually don't mind).
At this point in time, I'm only 66.5 years old, 67.2 if you count time in the womb, and my math is correct. We all age differently, but I have to concede that I'm no longer that proverbial "spring chicken", and it is beginning to p--s me off! I look in the mirror and ask what happened to that little girl. What did I do to her? Being human, I made some wrong turns and uneducated guesses along the way, but I have good genes on my side, and an "up" attitude.
I'm thinking that should earn me a few more years . . . if I'm careful. Which I won't be because life is too short to wimp around.
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