A line I still oftimes use is "I'm old enough to know better, but too young to care."
As one gets older...
- Thread starter Arkay Lynchpin
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"I'm old enough not to care too much
About what you think of me
But I'm young enough to remember the future
And the way things ought to be" - Neil Peart, 'Cut To The Chase'
About what you think of me
But I'm young enough to remember the future
And the way things ought to be" - Neil Peart, 'Cut To The Chase'
Your grandmother was right. It helps to move and have a purpose.
A similar issue. Had a colonoscopy on Friday and they did find something, but not life-threatening. Given the state of my life I am never quite sure whether to be relieved or disappointed when it is not life-threatening.
Turning 44 this weekend. All i could think was that in 6 years i will be 50...
I feel 30-ish so 50 seems very far away...
Yeah, 50 is far away...from the other side, in my case!
I was at one of those restaurants but if you order from the regular menu, you pay the regular price even if you are 55 or over, right? I was so hungry at the time I forgot to ask!
Same. Looking back on my younger self with envy. The thing now is unless I have to be up at a certain time, I won't get up until able to fully close both hands. It's surprising how many tries it takes some mornings!
Let me say this about that. Long ago when my dad was still able to walk (no later than 1997), he had terrible back and leg pain. He underwent hours of scanning, poking, and prodding, only to be told the problem must be in the nerves and the tests showed just what could be seen, presumably only bones, so he had to simply wait until it got better as they couldn't tell what was causing it.
Several years ago, on waking up I noticed my left ankle was terribly stiff and sore, which would wear off when it warmed up after I used it for awhile. This went on for maybe a year or two. Had my ankle hurt all day, I would have had it looked at despite the above experience with Dad, but as the day wore on the ankle felt better, only to be painful the next day when getting up.
Finally came the fateful day in December when I stepped on a back step which was cement covered by snow on top of ice. I fell only a step or two and shouldn't have been hurt, but landed in such a way as to not only snap but absolutely shatter that left ankle! I was two hours in surgery, receiving a plate and numerous screws. I progressed from two weeks in a splint, to a full cast, a walking cast, and a brace or two so it was five months between the accident and when I was able to wear a regular shoe. My sister (not the doctor, but the lawyer) asked how I was getting around so well with a messed-up ankle (the X-ray showed the foot almost separated from the leg--I'll post pictures if you want--) and I replied that leg had been unreliable for so long I'd learned to get along without it, at least when sitting down and getting up. My sister then thought I was really dumb not to have had the leg looked at earlier. I didn't get into it with her that when Dad, whose pain was much more severe, had his back and legs looked at, the tests didn't turn up anything and I didn't want to waste my time. I also didn't get into it that I hurt in so many places, how did I know the ankle was a genuine pain, worth checking out, and the numerous other pains were just regular, garden variety aches? If I had everything looked at that hurt, I would almost be like Indiana Jones at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark!
My niece thought since I was experiencing pain before, and the break was so sudden and catastrophic, I must have had a hairline fracture. I'm not sure of this either, because if anything was really wrong with the ankle, why did it hurt only when I first got up and improve during the day? To this day I am not entirely sure what happened. My general rule is still not to have any owies looked at unless they become severe enough to drastically impede my regular activities (and I have had several fitting this bill). I am pretty constantly active and the only time I rested much was this summer when extreme heat, dust, smoke, and road work rendered me somewhat immobile, giving some places a chance to at least partially heal.
If certain relatives ever saw this, I would be in SO MUCH TROUBLE, but here goes.
The other day while undergoing tests at the hospital, I was asked if any of my family ever had bowel cancer. I said yes, one, but that was not a blood relative. That's all they wanted to know, but I knew you guys and ghouls would want more.
AND NOW, THE REST OF THE STORY:
One day over 40 years ago I came in to find Dad sitting at the dining room table, holding what was obviously a typewritten letter of several pages, and looking very disapproving and dissatisfied. He explained the letter was from his half-brother, about the brother's mother, Dad's stepmother, having passed away. "He could have just said she died. He didn't have to go on at length over every detail of what killed her," Dad complained.
"Well, what did kill her then?" I asked, anticipating a lengthy and gruesome explanation.
"Smoking, eating white bread, drinking red wine, and reading murder mysteries," Dad replied. I about bust a gut laughing.
AND NOW YOU KNOW THE REST OF THE STORY!
The other day while undergoing tests at the hospital, I was asked if any of my family ever had bowel cancer. I said yes, one, but that was not a blood relative. That's all they wanted to know, but I knew you guys and ghouls would want more.
AND NOW, THE REST OF THE STORY:
One day over 40 years ago I came in to find Dad sitting at the dining room table, holding what was obviously a typewritten letter of several pages, and looking very disapproving and dissatisfied. He explained the letter was from his half-brother, about the brother's mother, Dad's stepmother, having passed away. "He could have just said she died. He didn't have to go on at length over every detail of what killed her," Dad complained.
"Well, what did kill her then?" I asked, anticipating a lengthy and gruesome explanation.
"Smoking, eating white bread, drinking red wine, and reading murder mysteries," Dad replied. I about bust a gut laughing.
AND NOW YOU KNOW THE REST OF THE STORY!
While I haven't taken advantage yet I think they are slightly smaller portions at a reduced price. I believe this is due to the fact that when you are older the amount you eat becomes smaller and/or for most seniors who are on a fixed income.
Does anyone know anything about this or find the information of the least use?
4 GABA Deficiency Symptoms You Can Identify Yourself
4 GABA Deficiency Symptoms You Can Identify Yourself
I had not noticed this post before. Apologies, Capn.
I played soccer for decades. On my kicking foot, I developed a notable pain spot on, maybe, the top of the first metatarsal. It hurt enough where I wondered if I'd developed a stress fracture.
Up to that point, I'd been kicking the ball American style for distance, with the toe of the shoe. I figured that was stressing out the tarsal. I switched to the more traditional soccer style, with the top of the foot. That extended my rec soccer career 10 or 20 or more years. The pain of the stress point never really quite went away until about four years after I stopped playing soccer (about age 57 or 58, thanks to a fall and ruptured quad, but that's a different story).
I've always enjoyed spicy food. Still do. But a couple decades ago, I gave up hot salsa for medium salsa. There are other GI things and annoyances that I don't care to bother you with, but the body changes. I just can't eat and drink like I used to. Oh, well.
Just other things that have to do with skin elasticity (which low-dose aspirin doesn't help), joint anomalies, and other things that whisper, "You're old!" to me when I'd really rather not admit it. Gray hair? Hair loss? Heck, that's the least of the bothersome things.
And no, I didn't see a doctor for any of this stuff. You take the wear and tear, figure it's a part of life, deal with it, and keep on going. If you're lucky.
Some of your posts should come with a warning, DiO. I’m glad you also found your voice. The old woman I sometimes catch a glimpse of in the mirror scares me. It took me a minute to fully grasp the meaning of how your grandpa died. Sounds to me like he was a very strong, humorous, willful, ain’t-nothing-gonna-get-me-down kind of guy just like his grandson.And, man, did you ever find your voice. I for one am glad you did, even if comes from left field. It makes semi-anonymity fun.
I’m the same in not feeling my chronological age, mentally. But my body feels older than my age... Much to do with a foolish youth. When I wake up in the mornings the first thing that comes to mind is ‘you need to power through this.’ After a half hour or so all cylinders finally start firing... with coffee as a required lubricant.
There are things from the past we miss and long for, again, and things from the present we wouldn’t want any other way.
“When I die, I want to die like my grandfather who died peacefully in his sleep. Not screaming like all the passengers in his car.”
Thank you.. I think.
No, really, thank you. That is one of the nicest complements I've ever received. My grandfather was a good, gentle, frail and strong-willed man. When he came to this country with a bum leg he got a job in a zinc factory taking on the hardest job they had. Nobody thought he would last at it. He proved them wrong by powering through it with a positive attitude. He eventually became a carpenter. He taught me how to work the land without the use of modern day power equipment and how to build things with my own two hands. He instilled in us to be true to ourselves, be good to others, fight for what we believe, and always maintain a sense of humor. The main hammer I use was his hammer, although I’ve changed the handle a couple of times. Combining the old with the new really is a good thing... and not just in tools.
I cannot see
I cannot pee
I cannot chew
I cannot screw
Oh My God What can I do?
My memory shrinks
My hearing stinks
No sense of smell
I look like hell
My mood is bad--can you tell?
My body's drooping
Have trouble pooping
The Golden Years have come at last
The Golden Years can kiss my ass.
I cannot pee
I cannot chew
I cannot screw
Oh My God What can I do?
My memory shrinks
My hearing stinks
No sense of smell
I look like hell
My mood is bad--can you tell?
My body's drooping
Have trouble pooping
The Golden Years have come at last
The Golden Years can kiss my ass.
Great news for you all! On Christmas of 2016 I repaired, cleaned, wrapped, and delivered 55 books as presents to children. On Christmas of 2017 I couldn't manage one! Too many pains in my finger and wrist joints, and on gunky books I use Goo Gone and alcohol to remove crud, and wipe down with extremely hot water so as little as possible damage is done to the book cover but as much as possible to my fingers! It was taking my skin off!
My sister, who is a doctor, told of having as a patient a man in his forties who laid floors for a living. He was having horrible pains, hardly able to work with his hands, until he bought a miracle drug. After taking it a month or so, he said not only did his hands not hurt,
NOTHING HURT!
This is the stuff:
I've been taking it for two months and one week and the results are astounding. I have been able to get back to cleaning and repairing books and other jobs I could either not do or only with great difficulty. Pain cream and patches and athletic tape were sitting unused along with skin lotion. Today I did finally have to use a couple of pain patches, having developed problems in my right hip and right hand which I am sure originate from sitting in front of the computer much of the day yesterday as it was too darn hot to do anything else. I spent much of the day listing books I collect which can be seen in a thread in the Buy, Sell, and Trade section of this forum.
My sister, who is a doctor, told of having as a patient a man in his forties who laid floors for a living. He was having horrible pains, hardly able to work with his hands, until he bought a miracle drug. After taking it a month or so, he said not only did his hands not hurt,
NOTHING HURT!
This is the stuff:
I've been taking it for two months and one week and the results are astounding. I have been able to get back to cleaning and repairing books and other jobs I could either not do or only with great difficulty. Pain cream and patches and athletic tape were sitting unused along with skin lotion. Today I did finally have to use a couple of pain patches, having developed problems in my right hip and right hand which I am sure originate from sitting in front of the computer much of the day yesterday as it was too darn hot to do anything else. I spent much of the day listing books I collect which can be seen in a thread in the Buy, Sell, and Trade section of this forum.
I just added it to my list on Amazon! Thanks Cori!
Did you ever get this and use it? Your thoughts? OOhhh, I see you just made this post today!
Let us know what you think when you get it.
I've been using glucosamine everyday for years but I think it's not working like it used to. I have to find something new as my knees are starting to bother me again. It sucks getting old....
Yeah, someday we'll get together in our wheelchairs and you can talk about your knees and I'll talk about my back -- and my neck.