Aging ungracefully

I don’t know how much I’m enjoying getting older.

Oh, wait, yes I do – not at all.

I’m sure you’ve heard all that crap about the advantages of getting older – wisdom, experience, maturity. It’s all overrated.

Do I know more things than I used to? Theoretically, yes. But I also forget things much more often. So knowledge may be flowing into my brain, but it’s flowing right back out, sweeping along with it all sorts of important information, like “Where did I park today?” and “Why did I walk into the bathroom?”

I mean, I am forgetting things immediately. This morning I had a headache, and I took down the bottle of pills, and 30 seconds later I looked at the pills and thought, “Wait. Did I just take two of those?” I honestly couldn’t remember. So to be safe, I took two more. The headache is gone, though my liver may now be damaged.

I will frequently go to google.com on my computer, and just sit there and stare at the screen, because I’ve already forgotten what I was searching for. Usually it’s something important, like “How old is Salma Hayek?”

Another not-so-fun part of aging is that I tend to repeat myself. And not only that, but I tend to repeat myself.

Then there are the physical ravages of time. I have a debit card with my photo on it. That photo is about 10 or 11 years old. In my mind’s eyes, that’s still the way I look – dashing, handsome, a little danger lurking behind the eyes. (Keep in the mind that I’m jacked up on headache meds as I type this).

Anyway, a friend sitting next to me saw my card and then looked at the real me and said, “Wow, all of that in only 10 years.” Meaning, Dude, you have gone downhill! Then to soften the blow, she said, “It happens to us all.” That was comforting. That’s like telling somebody, “Hey, you’re not the ugliest person I’ve ever seen.”

And the old body sure ain’t what it used to be. I used to run a lot. Less than two years ago, I did a half-marathon. But circumstances caused me to take a long break from running, and I’ve recently tried to get it going again. I’m not really sure you could what I’m doing “running.” Last time I ran, a turtle passed me. My legs felt like they were encased in cement, my lungs burned, and I was sweating like a Tennessee football player taking a drug test. And this was just walking from the car to the track.

I have hairs growing in new places and hair that’s turning gray. I had an MRI the other day and the doctor called to tell me that I have a fatty liver. So now, I’m on some liver-cleansing diet. It’s as wonderful as it sounds. The good news is, I’m bound to forget that I’m on it soon, and I’ll start eating real food again.

And yes, I know, getting old beats the alternative, and I should be thankful that I’m as healthy as I am, and I agree with all of that, I suppose. Wait, what was I talking about again?