I thought I nailed that aging caper.
Even though I had just turned 55, I had already been through the worst of menopause nearly a decade earlier. All I had to do, although for a few years, was a semi-annual injection for some fragile bones.
Sweet, I was sorted…or so I thought.
My 50s looked great, my kids were in their 20s and my parents were healthy, now it was my time for more adventure and exercise. Little did I know there were 3 specific ways my relationship with my health was about to change.
Thankfully nothing tragic or terminal, but in a way that is collectively unavoidable for all of us.
1. There are ways in which we everything age the same way.
The first thing I noticed was the things that come with universal aging. The troublesome evils that will happen to each of us if we are lucky enough to arrive unscathed for the second part of our life.
Some bits get droopy, joints creak and things get fuzzy. Moving that piece of paper in and out to focus hasn’t cut it since my mid-forties. I needed glasses, no big deal, and they actually made me look classy. Then suddenly, in my fifties, I needed a new script all year.
Now the ones I said I would NEVER have, bifocals, quickly became not only the most convenient solution, but they hopefully saved me from having to look over my reading glasses, like my grandmother. My optometrist and I now like each other’s posts on Instagram.
Along with many other women in their 50s, like clockwork every two years, I visit the big pink mammogram bus that parks in my local community parking lot. It’s an important exam to get what’s left of my breasts, which now seem to have fused with my stomach, squeezed by a piece of plexiglass while I pray the radiologist isn’t distracted.