Sometimes life calls for a break, a change, a chance to regroup, refresh and rethink. This is a strange year already for me. I turned the dreaded sixty-five. Usually I reserve age pity parties for years that end in a zero but this is different. This is the year of Medicare and the official entry into age-ism, health-ism and denial. I am in full in denial that I’m THAT old and body parts are dragging me down. I’m in denial that one eye is clouded with a cataract, that I have balance problems and dieting and exercise have become full-time jobs. Life has become a cartoon, with me as the comedian and doctor after doctor main characters. If one more medical person says the phrase, “for your age”, I’m going to slap them. I’ve had a brain scan and a GYN appointment (not at the same time), with a boob crush and heart ultrasound and cataract appointment still out there on the appointment horizon. But it was when the C word came up that I realized that there is still one final blow to my indignity and age. No, not the dreaded cancer, but a colonoscopy. I’m preparing mentally for the ultimate indignity, an evening of a gagging brew that will keep me from seeing the end of any movies, followed by a morning of drugs and embarrassing bodily sounds. What used to be a joke in my teens is now serious, although to get into the right mindset I reviewed Bill Engvall and Jeff Foxworthy’s You Tube videos on the subject. Sometimes you gotta laugh because old age is really funny when you get right down to it.
Well, so far, my main doctor thinks I’m crazy, although there is no medical evidence of that. She has no clue why I list to the left when I walk, why I’m my own leaning Tower of Piza, because, oh, maybe it’s just an “age” thing. (I mentally slapped her.)
The clerk at the local pharmacy steps back from the counter and asks each time I see her if I’m aware of the price of such and such drug. We both cringe when she announces the price and each time I tell her to reshelf the product. I can fly to Ireland or get a couple of pills. Screw it. Just keep me going until the election. I’m dying to know who will be our next president. After that my body can go to hell or heaven or hey, maybe I’ll roll over another few decades of life and years that end with zeros. It wouldn’t be the first time a senior citizen has outlived their doctor…..just for spite. As I’ve said before, because that is just the kind of person I am, young on the inside and old on the outside.