My mother told me there would times like this, but I didn’t believe her. I should have. I’m a perfect 76-year-old specimen, just ask my doctor, but if that’s true, why does every bone in my body ache? Why can’t I sit on the ground and get back up without groaning and moaning? Why can’t I hear without putting lima-bean sized devises in my ears? And why can’t I raise my right arm above my head? But then, I remember, she said I was a perfect 76-year-old specimen, not a 36-year-old specimen. It makes me wonder what a 76-year-old specimen looks like and how did I get to be 76 without even knowing it?
Some things get better as we age, right? I found a list of things that improve with age on Dr. Google’s Everything About Everything page: wine, whiskey, cheddar cheese, cast iron, jeans, flannel, pickles, vinegar, and there are many more. Unfortunately, Dr. G did not list knees, shoulders, hips, and fingers. Brains, too, don’t necessarily improve with age. We remember things we hoped to forget and forget things that we ought to remember.
Someone once told me that life is to be lived boldly and beautifully, but here I am, cowering as I think of either. I might fall (recently), I might mishear (recently), I might forget the time or date of my granddaughter’s birthday (recently), forget a dental appointment (not yet, although I tried), or I might sit down on the floor and my irritable knees and shoulders refuse to move and I’ll be stuck until someone shows up on my doorstep to retrieve me (recently). However, I still dance to “Unchained Melody” and am learning the Texas two-step. I have a new hula hoop, too, so, the adventure continues, although a bit slower when we do the final dip of the dance.
I have hope, though, the oldest person to swim the English Channel was 73. I still love to swim, so maybe I can spring back and take over as reigning old person to swim the channel…that way I would get to France! I can always dream!
Cowboy Bob has higher aspirations…climbing Mt. Everest. He could probably do it, but I warn him about climbing ladders to get on the roof, so climbing to the top of Everest is a push. He reminded me that Everest has been climbed by an eighty-year-old. The yearn for adventure is unstoppable, but the body can’t cash some of these checks that mind writes.
I shouldn’t complain, at least I am reasonably agile, move, walk, talk, and hear some things, but I still have lots of adventures to tend to, and it would be helpful to have some of these maladies repaired or removed. I had planned to have a knee replaced this summer, thinking it was going to pop out of my kneecap, but my shoulder remembered an accident from forty years ago, when Bogus Basin served nickel beer on the last day of ski season and a very drunk skier ran over me and ripped my rotator cuff from its working position. I had it fixed once, but it’s grown cranky, and now has taken priority.
My doctor said, “Shoulder replacement. Easy peasy.” To me that sounds worse than Marine Corps boot camp and I was only twenty-two then. I don’t know anyone who has had a shoulder replacement, but a nice woman named Bernie called me one day and encouraged me. She liked them so much, she had two. So, tomorrow morning, I’m off to see the shoulder wizard to see what he can do. He gave me a list of rules: a sling until I’m 76 1/5, no computer (we’ll see if that happens, I still have my left hand), no wine…ugh, and a date with the physical therapist on a regular basis. Blogs are iffy until the sling goes away, and my computer privileges are returned, but Cowboy Bob is helping me get through this and I’ll see what funny stories he has up his sleeve. He literally, will be my right-hand man.
I’ll be back…don’t forget to write!
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