Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
He told his friends, “With all the recent smoke, I’ve added some things to my morning routine. Now I spray each nostril with saline spray, and then put eye drops in. I can’t help myself from thinking when I do, is this the smoke, or getting old, or functions and tissue breaking down?”
His friends replied in unison, “Yes.”
First you must learn how the human body works in general, and what’s expected of it. Then you learn what your body can do, and its exceptions and variations. Then you’re often forced to understand how the body of those you love and support works differently. Few of us have a body that doesn’t come with quirks that split us away from being ‘average’, which becomes specially true as you age, because it changes again. What you could once do or eat is suddenly — and sometimes, dramatically — different.
Most of us view ourselves as younger than we are. Just a trick of psychology. I can see, then, how disturbing using a cane or walker because you’re now elderly and need it can severely disrupt your self-image.
It’s amazing. When he was a kid, he usually had two pairs of shoes, known as his ‘good’ shoes and his play shoes. Good shoes were also known as ‘dress-up’ shoes and ‘nice’ shoes. Play shoes became gym shoes and good shoes became school shoes. Dress shoes were added into the mix.
This trio — gym, or ‘tennis’ shoes, as they grew to be called — school shoes, dress shoes — were the status quo for years. A second pair of school shoes was added, along with cleated shoes for sports.
During his military years, he stayed with the triumvirate of shoes for his personal life. Gym shoes were still tennis shoes (though he didn’t play tennis), along with dress shoes and ‘jeans’ shoes. He began playing racquetball, so racquetball shoes were added to the mix. So were sandals. Then running shoes joined the shoe group. Military requirements dictated three more pairs of shoes: low-quarters (which were a super-shiny version of dress shoes), chukka boots, and combat (or paratrooper) boots. So it mostly stayed for his military career, except slippers were added through Christmas presents, and jungle boots and desert boots were added to fit his mission needs. The three pairs of military footwear were now five, because they’d done away with the chukkas.
Civilian life post military retirement brought on more shoe requirements. Aging helped. And shoe marketing. Now he added beach shoes, boating shoes, hiking shoes, walking shoes, and several pairs of ‘jeans’ shoes, also now called ‘casual’ shoes. There were work shoes, so he looked the role in the ‘business casual’ environment, but the military shoes were gone.
Going into marketing added more shoes to go with suits. Brown, gray, and black shoes were needed. He still had running and hiking shoes, along with walking shoes, jeans shoes, and casual work shoes. He was wearing cargo shorts frequently, and needed shoes to go with those. Moving from a pleasant year round clime to a snowy and wet environment brought up needs for wet weather and cold weather shoes.
Now he’s come to retirement. The suit shoes sit in boxes on shelves, but the rest have become so complex and numerous. He purged his shoes regularly, giving them away. His feet had widened and his feet’s needs had changed through the years, and that dictated changes as well.
Like so many other things, it’d become so very, very complicated. He wished for the days again when he had just two pairs of shoes. Given how life goes, he figured that circle would complete itself when he grew older.
Next: socks.
We were talking about classes we wished we’d had when we were young. Like, explanations about how much your body might change as you age. We knew that would happen, of course. Saw it in mother and father, aunts and uncles, etc. But how do you impress how much of it’s within and outside of your control, and how there is an accumulative impact? Despite exercise and health, some of these things take you by surprise and take you down, mentally, physically, emotionally.
Maybe such information is now being taught. Of course, with the net and technology, more of it is available.
I don’t care what others claim, if you’re eating raw crunchy veggies, the volume on the televisions MUST be turned up. And it’s not because ‘I’m getting old,’ damn it.
Signed, cranky middle-aged person.
Just finished with our monthly food and friends deliveries. Run by the county, it’s a thing where hot meals with milk and dessert is delivered free for people’s lunch. They don’t need to be sick nor elderly; they just need to have a home, even if it’s temporary. Clients can chose to pay, if they’re able. Monday-Friday are the delivery days. Clients can decide which days they want it. Frozen meals can be added to cover holidays and weekends. My wife and I do one route, but it’s one of many routes, and two of many volunteers. One friend does it twice a week, every week. Respect.
I always end up wondering how people reached this point in their lives and what were they like before. I wonder about their relationships, marriages and divorces, careers and schooling, where they were born, how they came to be here in Ashlandia, and if they have family. Ours is a small route, normally nine to fourteen people. Some are temps but others have received food assistance for years. When their name is dropped from the ranks, we wonder what happened to them. Sometimes we learn, and it’s what’s expected, they passed away. Other times, they’ve gone into assisted living somewhere, hospice, or moved in with family.
I’ve seen others can do this path. Most of us in the US are on it. My mother-in-law’s route was through Parkinson’s Disease. Then a fall really undermined all aspects of her coping mechanisms, leading to a long demise. While Mom and her BF don’t have meals deliver, visualizing a day when that happens is easy. He’s in his nineties, she’s in her eighties. Both have health issues but cope. Still, they’re declining.
I even see myself on that road. I’ve suddenly gained weight. Energy level has dropped. Lethargy has risen. I see a practitioner, and they sympathize but empathize, I’m in good health. Hypertension and enlarged prostate is all that afflicts me. What I’m feeling is just the general demise of aging. It surprises me because that’s not what I’m used to being like. I have a hard time accepting it.
I imagine all the rest are the same, wondering, what in the hell happened to me?
I’m amused when elderly women flirt with me. Then I remember, I’m just three years short of seventy.
I’m basically their age, although that’s not how I see it in my optimistic mind’s eye.
He had a rogue eyebrow hair. It curled up and away, refusing efforts to make it fit with the rest of his eyebrow. With a suppressed small sigh, he cut it back. He’d learned years ago that once an eyebrow went rogue, it needed to be trimmed. Don’t pull it, though, no. All kinds of things could happen if you pull it, including a gray – or worse, a white – replacement hair growing in, or nothing replacing it at all, leaving you with smaller and small eyebrows.
After taking some meds, he learned again that if some is good, more isn’t always better. The rule of moderation was proven again. The question for everyone, with everything, was always, what constitutes moderation? Difficulty comes because it changes with age, health, and circumstances. Re-consideration and adjustments are often required.
Michael Seidel, writer 