Stuff I’ve wanted to write about but didn’t have the guts to.
It stinks to feel old. I am well into being 78 years old, which is a blessing and a curse. My hearing is miserable. I denied my hearing loss for many years, blaming it on overactive wax glands and sinus congestion, but my E.N.T. a doctor who excavates my ears searching for wax, shamed me into taking a hearing test during one of my drilling days. The results were that I had rather severe hearing loss. I needed hearing aids to hear clearly.
I bought pricey ones from the fellow who worked with him, and they definitely help, but they are no panacea. Certain frequencies defy their effectiveness, and they are useless in understanding voices in a crowd. At a party I am in a dither. If I am not looking at somebody and watching their gestures and mouth movements, I am in trouble
My vision stinks. I’ve had seven surgeries for a detached retina and subsequent scarring. Unfortunately I am one of the unlucky 5% whose retinas scarred after surgery, and there is nothing the surgeons can do about it.
I still drive, but cautiously, and it feels like every driver who gets behind me creeps too close for my comfort. It makes driving stressful, so I defer to my wife when we travel together.
The other thing that is a consistent irritant is the need for reading glasses. I have five, six or seven pairs scattered throughout my home, office, and car. The number varies because one or two pairs are always lost.
I have a long roster of medicines I take which are supposed to help keep me alive. Blood pressure pills, beta blockers, statins for cholesterol, aspirin, arthritis calmers, fish oil, pomegranate juice for prostate. Add a little CBD salve to smooth things out and a Valium here and there.
Put them all together in a day and you have a recipe for bathroom aggravation.
Aging also brings mood swings. I am grateful for every day except for the days I am not. I am really happy I get to work in the machinery business and write this blog, except when I don’t feel “on top of my game.” I am quite sure I would go nuts to merely be a TV blob between naps. My wife, Risa, has an educational therapy practice, and if all I had was Oprah, cooking shows, and the Cubs to talk about, I think she would be considering a divorce or at least a separate bedroom at a retirement village.
This is the lament of a well-off American with a wonderful family, a brain that still allows him to play word games, and legs that can carry him to the bathroom at 3:00 a.m. It is probably healthy to honestly bitch occasionally, so you know I am not a pollyanna.
What is a pollyanna anyway?
Question: What’s the best thing about aging?