I will mention only a few of the vast army responsible for keeping me going these days. NOT to say that they all aren't vitally important, but there is not enough air space on the WWW to transmit the entire list.
Since I just made the regular --every five week visit to my hair stylist--let's start with him. Bless his heart---it's not easy to work with the feathers I have that supposedly are hair. The new Ruston stylist was so excited when I told him, "Do whatever you want" on my first visit. I didn't have the heart to tell him no matter what you want---it's not going to do it. I believe before that first visit was over he was muttering under his breath about the back of my hair growing the wrong way and how would he ever get it to stay down. Poor man--I am his biggest challenge. Somehow he keeps me looking half way decent--unless you catch me just out of the bed. That's another subject!
And then there's the man who is responsible for making sure I can still get myself out of the bed without crawling, able to tie my own shoes, walking without dragging my leg behind me, and in general moving--mostly in forward motion. I saw him about a week ago and I walked out his door with a thinly veiled threat of what was coming next visit if I didn't incorporate some psoais stretches into my stretch routine. He has obviously confused me with someone who has a regular stretch routine. The only routine I have is routinely complaining about my latest ache or pain. I will give him credit, he does keep me going. Maintenance is the key, My Friends---routine maintenance.
We mustn't leave out my aerobics instructor. She is responsible for keeping me reasonably fit and in some semblance of shape. Bless her perky little heart! The course has mention of body sculpting in the description. If this body is sculpted, I hate to think what the sculpture would be named--
Crumbling comes to mind. She is at the front of the class jumping all around and flinging weights around like they are match sticks and I am on the back row grumbling with a side of moaning and groaning. She has her work cut out when it comes to sculpting this relic.
Though the list is long, I will once again have mercy on you and end with my doctor--or should I say doctors. The cardinal rule is one doctor always leads to another--so avoid them if at all possible. The thing about Medicare and all its glory is they require you to have a primary care doctor. Turns out I am obviously more than she can handle, because she keeps sending me to other doctors. The only doctor she has not sent me to is perhaps the one I need the most---because I am pretty sure I am a brick short of a load--one twist short of a slinky--have only one oar in the water. My mental health can be questionable on the best day. My favorite in this elite group of highly educated body mechanics is the GI doc. SURELY with all we know and the advances in medical science there is some way OTHER than a colonoscopy to look at my insides! I want to stay healthy, but would prefer to do so without the aid of all these wonderful docs and without taking any medication. Is that TOO MUCH to ask??
Getting old is NOT for the faint of heart! BUT with regular maintenance by a highly trained maintenance crew--I seem to be continuing to have birthdays. Ask ANY car salesman and he will tell you--with regular maintenance it should be good for the rest of your life.
2 Dear friend, I pray that you may enjoy good health and that all may go well with you, even as your soul is getting along well.
3 John 1:2
Oh ... don't tell me about doctors ... they are like car mechanics. They always find something wrong with you. Fancy telling me "Your big end's gone!" That's the car mechanic, not the doctor. If the doctor had said that I'd tell him to watch his own fat backside. And why does he keep sending me to the hospital for blood tests? I got so fed up going, I now give my test card to a friend and he goes and gives blood instead. Last week he could not make it and he sent his wife instead. When I went to the doctor for the test results he told me I was pregnant.
ReplyDeleteBut getting old is good, Lulu. You're free to act any way you want and people tolerate it. For example, at Christmas, instead of sending Christmas cards I just cut rectangles from packets of corn flakes, fold them in two, and write my seasonal message inside. No need to buy expensive cards. Just send packets of cereals, or cards from other packets like biscuits, sweets, etc ... Just cut the cardboard, fold it and send it. For people I don't like I send them cards made out of laxative packets, or other medical products, like Preparation H. These cost more because I buy the products just for the packaging. It sends a subliminal message to the recipients that my good wishes are not genuine. To really lose friends, I send them cards without the postage stamps. Here in the UK if you send a letter without a stamp the recipient has to pay double the postage due when he receives the letter. Can you imagine? Paying twice the postage for a folded Preparation H packaging? Eccentric ... or just cute?
It's great to be old.
God bless.
What a fantastic idea, Victor!! After I finish my fit of giggling, I am off on a hunt for appropriate boxes to cut my Christmas cards from. Rid-X, Off & Bug Away came to mind among others I intend to send.And as for being a card carrying member of the Crazy Old Lady group- it has its advantages for sure!
DeleteThanks for the laugh!
Blessings, My Friend!
{{{giggling}}} Lulu, you have me in a fit of giggles as we were discussing something very similar. Maintenance; I haven't had a haircut since April, my hair is nearly gray, this surgery has taken its toll (4 weeks in!), I have lost nearly 30 pounds, sad to say. Insurance also requires a primary, then permission to see another dr. and so on. No gym classes here, walking is the best I can do. I had no idea 50 would be so hard...it seems its on my mind, a lot.
ReplyDeleteGreat post, friend...now, I got to go clean the desk off of the coffee I spat out, LOLOL. Have a beautiful day friend.
Fifty is the prime of laugh, My Friend!! The steep slope is still in far in front of you! Call Miss Clairol and walk those long paths always leading to the doctor's office and you'll be fine. Thanks for helping me laugh at myself!
DeleteBlessings, My Friend!!
Loralu, just when I think you can't possibly get any funnier, you do! Yes, maintenance is key as we age, and aging, as you say, is not for the faint of heart. One antidote for me is trying to stay in touch with my inner child - the grands really help with that! I really do believe that we can be as young as we feel, at least mentally if not physically.
ReplyDeleteBlessings to you!
WELL, Martha, that works to a point and then your aching body reminds you of the number! Seriously I play hard and love life. That keeps me going!
DeleteBlessings, My Friend!