There. I’ve said it. As the sassy t-shirt says, “I can’t believe how old people my age are.” Or worse, “I see these old people, and realize I went to high school with them.” Yes, age is a stark reality, and as my late aunt used to say, “It isn’t for sissies.” I can’t even say that I’m “middle aged”, because that would mean that I’m planning to live to 140.
Back just a few scant years ago, I’d watch my late father-in-law gather with his two sisters. They’d have brisk conversations about their doctor’s appointments, all part of a medical SWAT team, moving on to the various medications they were taking, and eventually, out would come the pill bottles and they’d compare them. I’d view these conversations with a certain sense of amusement, until it hits me that now, I’m there. Her Ladyship organizes what we call “the Pharmacy”, into daily doses of pills – green for morning, and purple for night. I didn’t take that many, so I didn’t do that until, WHAM, now I’ve got six in the morning and two at night. When did that happen? Long about the time high blood glucose set in. And what’s worse, two of the morning pills I have to cut in half. About the time my eyesight and physical dexterity are bidding me a fond farewell, I have to cut some of them in half. OK, fate. That’s just cruel. Although I did just order a new pill-cutter that has little spots for any size pill the pharmaceutical industry can devise. Better yet, Publishers Clearing House! I’m so close to that big win, and I know the pill-cutter will truly increase my chances.
The Big Three of aging are eyes, ears, and teeth. These are the principal body components to go first. Eye glasses get progressively stronger until, well, let’s just say they weigh heavily on the nose. Hearing also slows down to the point where we’re yelling at each other, and the television is turned up until the walls are shaking. We don’t notice it until the Princess comes home and queries tentatively, “Is the tv always that loud?” Yes, pretty much. It’s better now since Her Ladyship got her new aids, what I call, Miracle Ears, and what she calls . . . well, it’s a family-friendly blog, so I can’t put it in print. Good and bad, because she can hear a lot of what used to pass unnoticed. Then, of course, the teeth. I think that there was something hard buried in my sandwich until I realize it’s another tooth. My dentist is urging some crowns – I need two right now. At every cleaning, we have “the conversation”. He tells me they need to be fixed. I respond that I’ll agree with him, smiling politely, and ignoring his advice until disaster strikes. My philosophy is that, when they start to hurt, I’ll address the problem. My dentist doesn’t see it quite the same way.
I had cataracts removed last summer, so I’m seeing better than ever. Except that I need reading classes. No problem, so I have to have them with me all the time. Fortunately, Amazon had a nice selection that I could buy by the half dozen. Wonderful – I now have a set by my reading chair in the living room, one in the kitchen when I’m cooking to read recipes and expiration dates (because the Princess harasses me constantly about those), one that I’m wearing right now by the computer, and one on my bedside table for “just before going to sleep” reading. I have a pair too that I keep in the car, in case I pop over to the grocery store and need to check labels. There can be an issue if I happen to wear my computer glasses into the living room. At some point, I’ll find that I have two or three pairs in the same place, so I have to regroup. That’s truly problematic, because some location is glasses-less.
There are some benefits to aging. I don’t drive much, to the grocery store, for appointments with the doctor and back, occasional trip in to Boston to bring home Elizabeth and her laundry, so we only have to get gas every so often. And we’re down to one car, because Herself doesn’t go anywhere without me. We’re here to fetch Amazon deliveries from the front porch, so there isn’t much chance of theft. We can do laundry at our leisure – don’t have to save up all those household chores for weekends or late at night. And I’m freed up to create a napping schedule that fits my needs. How did I go without a nap when I was teaching? Unbelievable.
We know we’re getting older when all the commercials on television, at least for us, are medications for joint pain and arthritis, hair restoration, wrinkly and spotted skin, and planning “spa days” with the grandkids in the walk-in bath, because we need a lower threshold. Or the folks that will clean out our junk from the garage and basement. I keep “pointing”, but it’s all still there. Oh, they feature younger people dancing around, but we all know it’s aimed at older folks heading for assisted living, because right after it come the “A Place for Mom” commercials or in-home care services. At least I haven’t seen those “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up” ads recently, so perhaps everybody our age now has an alert system.
One shift is that we don’t go out to dinner much. As I said, driving at night isn’t a great idea, so we go for breakfast or lunch. And we don’t drink, so it’s more cost-effective. Although, we did go out to a late lunch last week with our friend, Lady Peacock, and another friend. In all honesty, Lady P. set it up because the restaurant’s featured “drink of the month” was something that she loved, and needed again before the month expired. It was some kind of sugary invention with sugared strips of bacon on top and sugar around the rim of the glass. I believe that my glucose level went up about 10 points just looking at it. It was a good time.
Probably the biggest change as one digs deeply into “senior-hood” is that routines and patterns become embedded to a far greater extend. Meals happen at preordained times. Getting up in the morning is a routine. I have the coffee pot set to go, so I just have to turn it on. I get the newspaper and sit to read it. (Full disclosure: I’ve written so many letters to the editor that she’s given me a column. I know, right? I think of it as sharing my wisdom and experience.) Her Ladyship has regular television viewing: Mornings, it’s her True Crime. Afternoons, after Gardener’s World, which we watch during lunch and then my nap, she’s on to Law and Order. Dinner is the news, then Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy. After that, we watch our PBS regulars or stream one of our regulars (unless PBS is in the midst of its fundraising, which is truly annoying). An episode or two of House Hunters, then off to bed.
You know that you’ve reached the sunset years when:
- You’re on a first name basis with the grocery store cashiers, and they with you.
- Unsealing a fresh box of cereal constitutes a daily workout routine.
- You’re now buying store-brand and generic grocery products rather than the name brands. It’s just as good! And, you follow the store flyers and buy everything on sale.
- You still use a landline phone as a primary communication. (And you forget to check your cell for texts.)
- Coming home, you put the car in the garage, because it’s doubtful you’ll be going out again that day.
- The Dollar Store has replaced the mall as your “happy place”.
- Most of your emails are from Publishers Clearing House.
- Trips to the bathroom become hourly events.
- Routine medical check-ups come every three, four, or six months, rather than yearly. And you have a medical SWAT team rather than just the primary doctor.
- Your car mechanic knows you and your car on sight, and has your information up on the computer when he or she sees you pull up outside.
- You need one of those long grabbers to pick up the newspaper.
Oh, well. Have to go now – I have six texts from the Princess, the last four asking why I haven’t been checking my texts, and she’s asking where my phone is. (It’s on the kitchen counter, where I leave it.)
I'm Thinking...No! 