“When did we grow old?”
Herself asked me that the other day and it made me think. Frankly it did come as a bit of a shock as until then I didn’t think I was Old [with a capital O].
I suppose the rot set in around four years ago when Herself had her stroke. Overnight the concept of immortality vanished in a puff of reality, and I realised that we were indeed mortal.
Since then her health has deteriorated somewhat. Ironically it has nothing to do with strokes or blood pressure [though her left side isn’t as strong as the right which is the only legacy]. Though on second thoughts, maybe the stroke is the cause, because the medical system was concentrating so hard on keeping the blood pressure stable that they forgot that other bits need maintenance too. So as a result, her spine is slowly rusting solid and the bearings are shot in her arms and legs.
Now I have been studiously ignoring my health as I have always done. My choice of treat in the coffee shop is always the cake that looks the stickiest and therefore has the highest levels of sugar, and salt is my friend. I like my fry fried and not grilled. I occasionally buy a Mars bar, though I did have to cut down on them a bit as my trousers were getting a little tight around the waist. In fact my one and only concession to healthy eating is to watch the waist line as I hate buying jeans or trousers.
Doc has taken to keeping a close eye on me. His argument is that if I drop dead, or worse, then there will be no one to look after Herself and therefore my health is vital. He now insists on regular blood tests and general overhauls or maybe he just needs an excuse to stick needles in me. Leastwise the results of the tests are always fine [so far] which apparently make me some sort of medical miracle considering that I seem to do the exact opposite of what I am supposed to do. I smoke, love salt and sugar, enjoy greasy fries and have an exercise regime equivalent to a Giant Tortoise.
But lately, I too have begun to notice things that weren’t there before. I seem to be aching a lot more than I used to. Pulled muscles are now the norm. Various painkillers now form a regular part of my diet. Yes – my body is getting old. The trouble is that my head stays stubbornly a lot younger. It comes as a shock to me any time someone asks my age.
Growing old is a pain in the arse.