You know those old folks one encounters in movie theaters, the ones who always seem to be unwrapping hard candies?
Of course, you know them. Just as soon as the movie hero is about to reveal the great secret in his past, the one that will determine the movie’s outcome, those pensioners usually pipe up in loud voices.
“What did he say, Henry? No, I didn’t wear my hearing aid. It makes everything too damn loud.” (Unwrap, unwrap, unwrap)
Yeah, those folks. Well, I mean no disrespect. The whole point of this post is I’m starting to feel a strange affinity for the older generations. God bless ’em.
I guess you could say I’m starting to feel my age and it’s been getting me down this week.
Now I’m sure you’re protesting as you read this. “But surely Rosanna is barely thirty years old! How can she possibly be feeling her age?” (You are saying that, right? RIGHT???)
Fact is I’m 45. Yes, I know, still very much young, still lots of living to do. I just wish parts of me didn’t hurt so much during all this living.
A week or so ago, I visited the eye doctor, only to be told I have bizarre scratches on my eyes. They can’t figure out how they got there. (Personally, I think this lends credence to my theory spiders are trying to gobble up my peepers at night.) Oh, and my eyeglass prescription got stronger. That’s always a delight. “From 45 onward,” the doctor said, “your prescription can change every six months. Eyes age quickly during the period between 45 and 55.”
Oh, joy. Just call me Mr. Magoo.
And then there’s the matter of my tendinitis and tennis elbow. I’ve been experiencing pain all through my right arm for over a month. However, as I learned today from my physiotherapist, the pain stems from nerve issues in my neck. The keyboarding doesn’t help but it might also be a result of general wear-and-tear. Again, I’m aging so I should expect more of this.
Did I happen to mention that favorite foods (read: junk foods) no longer sit well with me? Today, because the boys had a day off school, my husband and I grabbed burgers and fries for the four of us. Although that crap went down nicely, within two hours my stomach had launched an all-out rebellion. I’m serious. It was the fricking Battle of Trafalgar in my gut and I did not emerge victorious.
So basically my stomach hurts, my eyes are wonky and I’ve got pain radiating out from my elbow into my neck and fingers. I expect gout and shingles any day now.
I’m all about embracing my age, at least on most days. I have no wish to go backward and redo my twenties and thirties. In fact, in many ways, my forties have kicked ass. I love where I am but I won’t lie to you. Some days everything hurts.
So what do I intend to do about this pesky aging process? I have decided to take action. As much as I detest exercise, I know I need to start moving. I already take long walks but maybe more is needed. Perhaps I need to try something new, something that will not only stretch my body but stimulate my mind.
What about those junk foods that disagree with me so much? I have to remind myself of the discomfort every time I feel like caving. When the waitress asks if I want fries with that, I shall smite her! “Begone, temptress!” I shall say. (Okay, I won’t really smite the waitress. That’s just mean. Besides, I’m not sure how to smite a person.)
I will be the first to admit I sometimes delay my doctor appointments. As a mom, I’ve always made sure my kids have their physicals, but I sometimes neglect myself. I can’t do that anymore. I have to take care of myself, too.
It’s time for change. Change is good.
In the meantime, until I can sort out all these changes, I’ll just curl up over here with my bran muffin, unwrap a few hard candies and take a nap.