The Appearance of Old

I'm up. Not that I intended to get up at 7:01, but I stretched myself into a leg cramp that forced me to jump out of bed and walk around the bedroom until the pain subsided and my leg untwisted itself. Tom has been up since 5:30 because he said there are trout waiting for him in the rivers, and he doesn't want to be late. I hobbled past him on the way to the bathroom with a grimace of pain on my face and he said, "You stretched again, didn't you?"

My late aunt, Gracie, used to say, "Growing old is not for the weak," but I never thought about her statement until this past decade.  Now I hear her words all the time. I heard them this morning, "Growing old is not for the weak. Growing old is not for the weak. Growing old is not for the weak."

Here's the thing about pain that I don't like; it hurts.  Pain must have been what my aunt was referring to when she didn't recommend it for the weak. But we weaklings must endure the pain because our options are limited.

The pain is one reason why growing old is not for me, but there is something else I don't care for either.  The appearance of old is not going to work for me. I may appear to look sixty-nine, but I'm really thirty-five. I cannot envision myself old. I need more time to adjust to the changes to my body like the loss of bone and muscle mass, sagging skin, turkey-wattle neck, stomach pouch...just to name a few alterations not to my liking. It all happened so fast. Blink, I'm young. Blink, I'm old. Well, not old but the appearance of old.

I'm up. Not that I intended to stay up, but when I went back to bed after the leg cramp, I heard a ringing noise that sounded like an alarm clock. But since I don't have an alarm clock, I could only assume it was my tinnitus acting up again. There is medicine for ear ringing, but I can't fit another pill into my daily regimen of meds.

I stood in the kitchen and stared at the unfocused pill containers lined up on the counter.  The first pill of day must be taken thirty minutes before eating and one hour before the second set of meds, so I waited patiently for my eyes to focus--they don't like to work first thing in the morning--all the while trying to answer that nagging question, "Have I taken this pill already?" 

Let me just say here that there is nothing wrong with growing old. People do it all the time. It's an acceptable practice, and some old people even appear to be enjoying their geriatric experience.  But not this old lady. Not me. Nope! No way, Jose. I'm not buying it. I'm not down with it. It ain't cool, dude.

Oh, my. Look at the time. It's 10:00. Time for my morning nap. I'm going back to bed.