I’m a little behind this week, partly because Mom had a medical issue that caused her to spend the night in the hospital for tests. She’s fine, just exhausted and a little down. Of course, the experience prompted a lot of discussion of age and mortality.
One thing that was sort of funny was the ER doc asking about Mom’s medications. He’d look at the computer screen and say the name of one to me, and I’d look at Mom, and she’d answer. But she wouldn’t just answer. She’d give the ten-syllable generic name and the number of milligrams involved. After a couple times of that, the doctor realized he was dealing with a sharp cookie, and stopped looking to me to interpret.
Mom and I had a good laugh over that. My brother says she’s a lab rat. By that he means there aren’t very many people in her demographic who act like her. The doctors are learning, though. There are more of those sharp old people around, and it’s going to change how we see aging.
That was the fun stuff. Less fun was that her age, 89, is no joke. You can’t wish her younger with some breezy line about 90 being the new 70. Age takes a toll. When she broke her leg 3 years ago, it was incredible how slowly her bones regrew. I swear, they almost seemed to have stopped. You lose out on a lot when you’re older. She expressed dismay about how her brain processes language sometimes. “Have you noticed?” she asked.
I said, “By this point you should have figured out how to fake it.”
Get old, lose some things, gain others. Lose bone growth, gain facility with coping. This is what it is. You’re alive. It beats the alternative.
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Wow, your mom must be one sharp cookie to keep track of her meds, doses, ingredients and all. I can’t even do that. Hope she is on the mend.
She is, Pat, but you’ve got your own deal going on. Wow! I couldn’t believe your post this morning. Hope you recover quickly.
Great post as usual, Lynne! I especially love
” Get old, lose some things, gain others. Lose bone growth, gain facility with coping. This is what it is. You’re alive. It beats the alternative.”
That’s a good summation. 🙂
Would you mind if I share this quote with my “Savoring Your Sixties” audience if I attributed it to you & suggested people visit your blog?
Bonnie, of course! You know that’s music to my ears. Best wishes with your endeavors.
It is so great when people remember their medicine whether young or old. I have never remember the names of prescription so I have to take all off my rx with me when I go to a new dr. Glad your Mom is so up on it. Really a good thing.
Oh, Barbara, she has the list thing down, too.
Your mom is my hero (er…heroine). I only hope I’m half as sharp as she is at age 89.
Don’t we all, Sandy. But I do sometimes wonder, watching her, how long will be too long. She’s vibrant and positive and, for the most part, happy to be alive. I used to think 95 would be my magic number. Watching her, I think that might be about right.
I think I would immediately love your mom, and knowing she grew up in No. Dakota, that is a given.
And I am not bragging, but the people that hail from there are strong. You have to be to weather the weather.
And everything else, Judy. The poverty and hardship she and her family and peers endured! It must have made the little gal tough. My sister lives in Sidney, Montana, just over the state line from Williston, and she says the old people from around there are like tin cans. They change shape and get rusty but you can’t hardly kill them.
That’s precious.
Your mother sounds wonderful! Whatever her limitations, she is still moving and thinking and laughing at irony. I hope this is a prediction of how you, Lynne, will age. It sounds like a good way to go.
I think “The Greatest Generation” is experiencing some things they never dreamed were ahead, and not all good things. Whenever we see him, my dad says, “Don”t get old!” And watching him, I can see why he says that. He cannot move around easily, not because his muscles are weak but because his brain no longer communicates much with those muscles. That’s the Alzheimer’s slowly progressing through his body.
Neither he nor my mother has EVER seen anyone as old as they are close up and personal. All four of their parents died in their late 60s, early 70s. They did not IMAGINE it would ever be like this, and I am sad for them that aging comes as such a shock. Both of them exclaim over and over about how surprised they are, and disappointed.
I, on the other hand, am getting a close view of what’s ahead, and so is my husband. Our most recent trip ended with our big decision to get off our butts and travel–NOW!–to all the places we’ve dreamed of going. In their 70s, my parents decided to do this travel in their 80s. They just didn’t realize the wouldn’t be able to.
We’ve realized. Happy trails!
Jan, I read “Still Alice” recently and it made me very sad. I am sorry for what your parents are going through. My BIL has Parkinsons’ and has been hit hard by it. Life can be so cruel. For all that Mom suffers through, she’s got it pretty good, and so do us kids, having her for a model of how to grow very old.
Get packing, girl. I mean it. NOW.
Great post, especially reading it after just returning from the doc’s for 6 month check up 🙂
Hi Ann, I hope things are going well. Take care.
Another thoughtful post, Lynne. For all our complaints about getting older and its impact on our bodies and minds, it really does come down to the fact that it beats the alternative. I’ll take what is for as long as I’m able.
Hi Roxanne, thanks for stopping by. You must be freezing up there! I feel guilty – planted spring flowers this afternoon. It was 75 out.