As we age, our body breaks down a bit. I’ve got two titanium knees and arthritis in my left shoulder. Ruth has atrial fibrillation and a bad back. One of our friends had heart surgery a couple of years ago and his gallbladder removed this winter. I’ve got another friend who had the liquid in his eyes replaced a couple of years ago and is having three dental implants installed this winter. Last week-end I visited another friend who has had several eye surgeries over the past couple of years and is recuperating from cancer surgery while continuing chemo-therapy. All of us are in our seventies and are handling our issues as best we can.
I’ve heard more than one person say, “If I knew I was going to live this long, I would have taken better care of myself.” The thing is none of us know how much time we have. If we did, we’d probably do things a bit differently. If I knew I had a lot of time, I’d pace myself. I wouldn’t want to do everything too quickly. I’d take it slow and easy, making sure I enjoyed each step along the way.
If I knew I had limited time, I might cram it all in. I’d have a list and make sure I ticked off each item. It would be like crossing off things on a grocery list as I placed them in my cart.
What I do know is you can’t care for yourself too much. If I had it to do over again I tell myself I would have eaten better, exercised more, and tackled life in moderation. I tell myself that, but I probably wouldn’t.
My life has been pretty consistent. I’ve never smoked, not even one puff. I’ve never abused drugs of any kind, illegal or prescription, and except for a few week-ends in my twenties and a couple in my thirties, never drank excessive amounts of alcohol. I’m not preaching, just reporting.
I played golf with three guys in their late seventies, or early eighties, one day last week. I had to watch each shot for the group. Nobody could see where the ball went. They’d take a swing, and say, “I lost it. Anybody see where it went?” I can still see pretty well, so I served as the group spotter. On top of that, two of the three couldn’t hear me. I had to repeat myself over and over because they didn’t know what I said. All in all we had a good time, because they were aware of their shortcomings, and appreciated my help. When the round was over, I thought to myself, “you guys would still be looking for balls if you hadn’t been paired with me”.
We all get what we get. I appreciate being able to do most of the things I still want to do. I don’t play softball anymore, but would give it a shot if the right offer came along. I haven’t been bowling for a couple of years, but with two new knees I’m sure I could roll a respectable game. Pickleball is not out of the question. As I see it, we have two options. Stop or keep going. I prefer going.
If you’re one of the youngsters reading this in your 40’s or 50’s, take heed. You’re entering the back half of your tenure and may have taken your health for granted. Don’t. Moving forward take things in moderation. Do the things you should to stay well and avoid the evil temptations that life throws about.
When I fill out the annual health assessment my insurance company sends each year, I report my health as being “good”. My two new knees help guide my self-assessment. Even with worn out parts, I feel good about where I’ve been and where I’m going. I just keep on keepin on, and I’m enjoying myself. How about you?.