I'm getting old.
I know this.
I celebrated my 41st birthday a couple of weeks ago and I'm good with the day to day of being a 40+ year old. My hair is turning grey and there are more lines on my face than there were five years ago. There are enough spider and varicose veins on my legs to map your way to Canada and if I don't figure out a way to tolerate sunblock on my skin, I'm going to look like a leather handbag soon.
I'm okay with those changes. I figure I've done pretty well for myself at this point in my life...in fact, I'm accomplished every goal I've set for myself, but that's a subject for another post. So now, I just need to maintain, right?
Maintenance sucks. This summer I've shelled out all kinds of money just to be told the following:
no cervical cancer
no breast cancer
no change in contact prescription
no change in blood pressure
no change in cholesterol
no change in weight
I knew all of this going in to the various appointments. I basically paid the good doctors to tell me what I already knew, that although I'm 41, I am fine. The most irritating part of it is the fact that I'm a good person, and I schedule all these appointments during my summer vacation so that I don't have to miss any school to be told that I continue to be fine. This is going to continue for the rest of my life until the day when I find out that I'm not fine. One day, the nurse is going to come out of the radiology room of ProScan Imaging and say, "we've found an area of concern...are you sure you haven't felt a lump in your self exams?" Or, I'll follow the family way and be placed on blood pressure and cholesterol medicine and start the long journey of congestive heart failure.
I think that's the worst part of aging...not the idea of death so much as the whole shelling out of cash to be told you're fine and good job with your proactive health care...but knowing that one day, one of those appointments isn't going to be the same old routine.
My grandpa did it right - thrombosis of the left ventricle, blew a hole right through his heart and he was gone. No lingering, no maintenance...died with a beer in his hand, or maybe he took the time to place it on his coaster before he fell out of his chair, but you get the point.
Jeesh, sorry for how depressing things got here. I'll make things a little more fun next time 'round.
Think I'll play a game or two of my new favorite online game, Burdaloo. Compliments of the greatest artist I've been priviledged to teach...her li'l bro's pretty cool too.