Getting Older—an Exercise in Extremes

As I get older (and older) the dialogues in my life have changed. It is interesting and a bit amusing, in a black humor sort of way. Several times someone has said, “You’re looking pretty good‑‑for someone your age!” Meaning if I were younger they might be concerned? I can opt out of jury duty because I qualify as too old. Some of my friends have been told they’re too old to drive (they’ll have to pry my keys out of my cold dead hands). 

Recently my Doctor became concerned that my heart rate was too slow (as a lifelong runner my heart rate has always been slow—in the 40s and 50s). Turns out a low heart rate can be a concern for old geezers. I’m often too cold (takes a long time to warm up), too hot (hot flashes), too tired (fall asleep

while watching TV), and always too stubborn (so says my wife). Extremes all!

Then there are those extreme “trigger” words that all of us cancer survivors dread to hear in any form: terminal, incurable, late stage, life threatening, inoperable, off the charts, etc. The older you are, the worse they sound.

More than once I have redefined what I mean by “a good quality of life.” When I was 40 it meant everything worked at 100%. At 60 maybe 80% was OK—a few aches and pains. Now, in my 70s, my requirements for “a good quality of life” are less stringent. If I can stand up, get dressed, eat, lift a glass of wine to my lips, walk (albeit slowly), drive a car (at least for now), and remember who I am and approximately what day it is (most of the time) it is a good day!

Trying to focus on what I can do and not what I can’t do is a challenge, but worth the effort when it works. A fading memory is an asset in this endeavor.

axman

Bucket Lists

A couple years ago, when it became obvious that my prostate cancer and my wife's diabetes were not going to get much better or go away, we made some not-so-difficult decisions:

We were going to spend our kid's inheritance (the stock market has been amazingly helpful in this)

We were going to do as many things and go as many places as possible (bad backs and poor memories be damned)

We were going to spend time with kids and grandkids and friends (as long as they could put up with us)

We were going to read books and drink wine and take naps (so far so good).

When I shared this sort-of philosophy with some of my prostate cancer survivor friends, they didn't necessarily share my goals. In fact, several of them had an almost-opposite goal: stay home, relax, enjoy what you have, and fade away gracefully. It made me think a little (I didn't want to overdo it) - everybody has their own idea of what their retirement years should include. Fair enough. Just make sure you actually make a decision. Don't just let time slip and slide away and then wonder where it all went...
Do what YOU want to do before you "kick the bucket."
axman