I turned sixty-five this year. How is that possible? When I was a kid, I thought anyone over sixty was ready to kick the bucket. And yet here I am, five years past bucket kicking age. I’m embarrassed to say, my teenage thoughts support the adage - youth is wasted on the young.
Of course, with this aging process, there were a battery of tests my family doc prescribed to ensure all body parts were functioning well and to detect any irregularities from previous (more youthful) years.
Last year my doc promised, when I got this old, I’d be eligible for a colonoscopy. Imagine my excitement. And then imagine my disappointment when the colonoscopy lab told me I was too healthy, and the poop-on-a-stick test (PIC) was all I needed. It was easy to move on from my initial disappointment.
And then there was:
- the infamous squish-your-boobs-into-pancakes experience. Another pass with flying colours. A couple years ago when I endured the procedure, The Globe and Mail published my interview with a mammogram technologist. I’ve included the link at the bottom in case you’re curious.
Bone scan – check
Exercise – averaging 10,000+ steps a day. Yes, those final ‘walking on the spot’ steps while brushing teeth do count.
My doc’s parting statement when I left the appointment was, “Medically speaking, you’re boring.” It’s the only time in my life I’m content to be boring.
With the medical stuff out of the way I researched financial advantages of reaching this milestone. Canada Pension. Old Age Security. Blue Cross Benefits. And senior discounts. I’ve developed empathy for clerks who must verify my age prior to giving me said discounts. One of the better openings I received was, “I know you’re not old enough, but I have to ask if you qualify for the senior discount.” Diplomatic. Hesitantly apologetic. And delivered with a smile. Her relief was visible when I said, “I sure do.”
This year I will nap in the afternoon guilt free. I will advertise my weakness for red wine, barbecued Brussel sprouts, Hawkins Cheezies (no substitutes) and chocolate. And bedtime will come earlier if I miss my nap.
So onward with all the excitement, new adventures, sunrises and sunsets sixty-five rotations around the sun brings me. I know the future will be full of grandkids’ escapades, slower-paced outings with Dad (he’s turning 91), finishing Book 3 of Jillian’s story and whatever else shakes up my day.
to grandsons Lane and Wyatt for their drawings for this blog.
Here's the link to my mammogram tale: No one likes getting a mammogram, but this one provided me with an unexpected lesson - The Globe and Mail
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