Aging

29

At 29 years old, I’ve discovered the truth.

Everyone is lying to me.

It’s not so much a realization, but a confirmation. The truth is that getting old isn’t all that bad.

Sure, there’s the aches and pains. That much is true. The other night I got off the couch and proceeded to the bed and upon lying, realized that, somewhere along the way, I tweaked a back muscle. Lift, turn, walk, lie and… my back is destroyed? Guess I’m not as spry as I used to be.

And sure. The mind starts to go. I’m more forgetful than I’ve ever been. Words are becoming harder to recall, and I’ve never been a worse speller. This became all too apparent at work the other day when I created a flyer for a football-themed event, misspelling Cincinnati in big, beautiful bold letters.

And okay. I’m taking medication. Dermatology stuff, but still — medication. At the onset I experienced side-effects. Nothing drastic, just irregular doses of dizziness accompanied by brilliant flashes of drowsiness, like some ill-fated celebrity duo tromping down a red carpet determined to prove the world wrong only to wake up six months later in rehab. I lowered the dosage.

And yes. I can no longer fit inside my own clothes. My pants have shrunk like raisins, my shirts like voodoo heads. But it’s not the clothes! It’s me! You see, I didn’t know I could gain weight. But then 29 happened. That magical time in my life when everyone said, “You’ll fill out one day.”

That day is today. (more…)

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The Mirage of Health (or, Some Body Scream)

Health care is my newest hobby. It’s pretty fun. I’m like the Six Hundred Dollar (deductible) Man. I never had health care growing up, so access is still new to me. The whole “Go to the doctor when you don’t feel right” is a little odd. But when the semester ended, I finally gave in and yelled “ALRIGHT” to my body and took it in for an oil change or three.

SIDE NOTE: This is no Obamacare message, kids; I had to have it for college. Obamacare, however, I have no real issue with despite its $300 million faulty website.

I’ve been playing catch-up. Doctors here, dentists there, dermatologists here, physical therapy there. It’s become apparent that my body is no longer the free-spirited albatross it once was. I used to pass doctor’s offices like a bicycle passes gas stations. “No thanks!” I would yell, though really, I didn’t even see them. But health is something I actually have to think about now.

And you should see me, really, selecting boxes on forms and explaining details to assistants like a novelist. “The pain in my knee visits like an ill-fated wayfarer in late winter’s morn, a bitter kiss of chillness, a choking warmth of distasted familiarity, financing terror in—”

“So it hurts here?”

“Yeah…”

(more…)