Stayin’ Alive
(Without Spending Every Spare Minute at the Doctor’s Office)
Oh, how I mocked my parents for filling their calendar with every medical appointment known to humankind! What was the point of living if every minute was consumed with trying to go on living? And what could be more fitting than reaching my parents’ age and finding myself caught in the same conundrum?
I am a relatively healthy, stoic, sixty-seven-year-old woman who plays competitive tennis three times a week. Yet the medical appointments in my datebook have spread like fungi. I can barely keep up with all the email and text reminders. Some weeks, I need to cancel this or that appointment so I can squeeze in some hitherto unknown specialist whose treatment might allay whatever new injury or plague has overtaken me.
When you’re young, nothing bores you more than listening to your elders complain about all their ailments. But stuffing earbuds in your ears will leave you defenseless when you find yourself needing to devote every hour of your day, every kilocalorie of your energy, not to mention the savings for your next vacation, to prevent the disintegration of your body, mind, and self-respect.
Not long ago, I experienced vertigo so severe I had to crawl to the nearest hospital. Apparently, as a person ages, their ear-tubes accrete calcium…
