Growing Old is Not for the Weak

Growing old is not for the weak," my aunt used to say before she passed at eighty-five. I would usually hear the faint-of-heart speech after each one of her half dozen trips to the emergency room that oftentimes resulted in an extended-stay at a rehabilitation center. I witnessed Aunt Gracie's extreme challenges with aging and I heard her warnings, but I never gave either one any thought because I was preoccupied with chasing my tail, I was feeling good, and I had just enough arrogance to think I would circumvent completely the not so pleasant part of aging.  I'll just skip on down the road to where it simply ends. Bye Bye now, adios folks, been nice knowing y'all, so long suckers. No pain, no suffering, no visits to the ER and definitely no extended stays at the Medicare hotels, where it is double-occupancy rooms only, the food is to die for, literally, and the residents' mantra is "Heelllllpppp!" No way. Not for me. No thanks. You go on ahead without me. I'm gonna have to pass. Ain't goin' there. Nope.

"Growing old is not for the weak growing old is not for the weak, growing old is not for the weak," was the loop that was going through my head as I lay flat on my back yesterday morning while the room was spinning around me. (Age-related vertigo, my doctor calls it...old age.) As I crawled on all fours into the bathroom to give up the prior night's meal, a whisper from the toilet bowl, "Growing old is not for the faint of heart.""I hear you," I whispered back, "now shut up!" Whisper was all I could offer because the night before I had lost my voice after screaming for fifteen minutes straight from pain level 10 cramps in both legs at the same time. 

"Growing old is not for the weak, growing old is not for the weak, growing old is not for the weak" the loop continued a few hours later as Tom stood over me with two Hydrocodones for pain and a glass of water. Seems the elusive stone in my gall bladder (modern technology can't locate it) has come for a visit again and it has something to tell me. Let's hear what it has to say, shall we?

"Growing old is not for the weak growing old is not for the weak, growing old is not for the weak." 

"Oh, shoot! I know that." I said. "Tell me something I don't know."

"Okay," the stone said.  "You ain't seen nothing yet, honey."

************************************************

The Weak

Whimp, alarmist, baby, chicken, invertebrate, mouse, faint of heart,

quitter, shirker, scaredy-cat, gutless, lily liver, yellow belly

                                         -Google 

I'm going with "yellow belly." It has a nice ring to it.

Yep! I'm scared.