I am at the age where a “wellness check” is filed with questions like, “do you feel safe at home?” or “look at these three words and I’ll ask you to remember them at the end of the exam.” I will have my blood drawn and the numbers will be checked to see if I’m on the right dosage of medication. I do feel safe at home, except when I’m asked to think about it. I can’t remember what I went into another room for when I get there, so I wonder if I’ll remember those three words. I will discuss my knee which is making it difficult for me to walk. I will ask for a prescription for a handicapped sticker, so I won’t have to walk so far from the parking lot to wherever I’m going. I will admit to having trouble hearing, if I can’t hear what the doc has to say to me. Another six-month exam and I’ll be good to go for another six-month exam.
The joys of aging are limitless. I’ve spoken about the many challenges we face as we grow older, but truth be told, the only reason I go to the doctor twice a year is because I really like my doctor and like to see her twice a year to catch up on things.
When you get older, the little things become big. Like whether or not you have a bowel movement each day. Can you get out of bed without groaning? Can you eat what you used to? Are your arms going to get anymore wrinkled than they already are? Will gravity continue to play tricks with your body? If I had known what I know now, I would’ve opted out long ago. I have discovered that living doesn’t end when we get older. We can still continue doing so, if we don’t fall into the trap of feeling useless. We will have a purpose for every minute left for us, as long as we keep our minds active and useful to others. We can use the wisdom we’ve gained over the years to encourage those who have old age to look forward to.
So, off I go for my semi-annual medical exam. I’ll say a little prayer that everything is still functioning the way it should. I’ll feel good when I discover that it is. I’ll come home refreshed by my conversation with my doc and two hours later, I’ll start worrying about another ache or pain. Such is the life of me.