My orthopedist chuckled when I uttered the phrase that serves as the title of this post. That day I was in his office to get cortisone shots, rather than surgery, as a reward for my steadfast efforts to prolong the capabilities required for daily life: walking, climbing stairs, and sitting, then standing up from a chair. Note there’s no mention of running, jogging, or jumping. Sadly, no dancing either – those were the days!
The months of April-May mirrored the autumn months’ preoccupation as I made the rounds of medical professionals who maintain this never-want-to-age body. A recent blog post cited the many means and methods I’ve used to avoid cutting. https://www.pjcolando.com/the-bees-knees-not-mine/
Like most Boomers, Peter Pan is my guru and I have the money and insurance to work the deeds of knee surgery prevention. But I disavow liposuction and a chin lift. I won’t be doing vanity surgery any more than I’ll submit to knee surgery. Neurosurgery may also be necessary, but I don’t have to wrap my arms around that yet. It’s doubly daunting to my heart and mind.
I have the support of my husband who also has knee issues. Now that he may need surgery – and doesn’t want to nurse me through my recovery… he’s no longer a fan.
Reality bites.
It’s said that age is something we feel, not count – intended as a euphemism for those who wish never to age. I concur with that but for a different reason. The vagaries are no longer vague. They are here and now in my achy-breaky body. Holy crap!
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