Three Little Words

I was about 61 when I sat in the ophthalmologist office. I’d noticed my right eye lid was a bit droopier than my left and as it had been going on like this it was suggested I see the eye doctor.

The examination didn’t take long. The diagnosis was three little words:

At your age

The doctor said a little more but I stopped listening after those 3 words.

And then a funny thing happened. More doctors were giving me the same diagnosis! Oh, some would change the wording to as you get older but the meaning was the same.

I was old.

It’s a silent malady. One that tends to creep up on you. The symptoms are often so quiet you tend to chalk it up to a bad night’s sleep or something you ate. Or maybe, it’s stress because let’s face it, life can be full of that.

You’re functioning okay. You aren’t sick. You haven’t even had hot flashes! You’re healthy….for your age.

Until it becomes apparent that yes, aging, is something.

It’s the droopy eye lid over one eye (only you notice), the sleep that becomes fitful, the vitamins and supplements you now should take at your age.

It’s the babies you once had that are now in their mid-life and the friends that are having chemo and the colonoscopy you won’t have to take anymore because well, it seems you can actually get too old for something to be important.

So here I am at this age, 69, fighting to hold on to my sense of humor because sometimes it’s the only thing that makes me feel, well, not 69.