Getting Older Sucks

November 9, 2011

Getting older sucks.  I’ve never truly understood this until recently.  I’m experiencing my age in a very personal way right now.  Yes, the gray hairs are appearing more frequently, and I know I’m lucky that I haven’t had to dye my hair yet.  But, that day is fast approaching.

Let’s talk about my eyesight.  My eyes are so bad now that I wish I had arms like Gumby, so things would appear clearer.   It seems like every 6 months I’m going to visit my friend, Dr. Michael, for a new prescription.  And, the last time I was in to see him, he said, “You know, this is getting close to your Mother’s prescription.”  She wears bi-focals.  Ok?!  Or whatever the term he threw around for them.  Just what I wanted to hear.

Then there are my hands.  When I was younger, my Mother used to look at her hands while driving, and say, “Oy, I’m getting your Grandma’s hands.  They’re becoming dry and papery.”  I didn’t get it.  Now, I get it.  And, no amount of moisturizer seems to help.  So, on top of everything else, I find myself obsessively checking out my hands.  No hand modeling for me, except maybe for some hot ad in AARP Magazine.

Also, I played tennis last week and noticed a shooting pain in my hip that worsened with every step.  That was last Friday, and my hip is still not great.  The hip thing is a huge concern.  My Mother-in-Law has had 3 hip-replacements and I do not want to have that experience in common with her.  Anything having to do with the word “hip” and I think of my Mother-in-Law, and not in the “cool” way.

However, the ultimate in suckiness, is the other problem which presented itself on the tennis court last week.  Quite simply, incontinence.  I’m not kidding.  After two kids, some “drippage” is to be expected now and then, but not like this. My game is truly becoming affected.  I can’t jump up or stretch too high for fear of glancing down and finding a wet puddle beneath me.  Depends is not far off.  And, it’s not just tennis.  I sneeze and it’s, “Oops!”  I laugh too hard, and it’s, “Oy!”  I cough and it’s, “Oh no!”

Really.  I’m trying to get it together before I turn 40.  So, along with centering myself and finding that inner peace I crave, it looks like I’m going to have to visit the Urologist too.  Know any good ones?


{ 0 comments… add one now }

Leave a Comment