MY DIAGNOSIS

When I first moved into my senior residence I met a woman with a blue face. I had never seen a woman with a blue face, so I asked a friend, “How did she get a blue face?” The friend said, “She tried to climb a light pole.” I said, “She tried to climb a light pole?” “Yes,” my friend replied, “With her car.” As the blue in her face finally faded, I realized that perhaps since I was now living in a senior residence, I might encounter more unfamiliar medical phenomena. However, I vowed never to join a woman’s club that celebrated not having prostatitis.

Of course, living in a senior residence means that there are very few juniors around, and that all of my new friends are remarkable, active old people, who make the most of each day with good humor and gratitude, and every one of them has a story to tell.  However, before I can tap into the child within, I often have to listen to some people’s organ recitals sometimes involving replaced body parts. Some folks are truly bionic creatures rebuilt with lots of metal.

It used to be that when someone told you of his (or her) “Body of Work,” it related to their professional career. Now, I suspect that with some people ailments have become a competitive sport. Hip! Hip! Hooray! takes on a whole new meaning when complaining evolves into bragging.

So far, I have been fortunate to be in relative good health, but there are some mornings when I get out of bed and everything hurts. It’s really not that bad when I rationalize that my body is letting me know that I am still alive.

Since I don’t have a medical degree, and am not familiar with complicated terminology, it has forced me to enroll in the Mr. Google School of Medicine.  I am now majoring in unfamiliar ailments, pharmaceutical ingredients and cures. I think I am a pretty good student. When a 90-year-old woman told me, “I am suffering from cramps,” I tapped into my medical training and said, “You are too old for that!” She huffed, “In my feet! “In my feet!”  The next day a man said to me, “I feel old!” My diagnosis:  “That’s okay.  You are old!”

Don’t get the wrong idea, no matter what life is dishing out, most of my friends are facing each day with optimism. Face it!  Getting old isn’t easy. But then, being young is no picnic either. No one lives a charmed life. If you have one, selective memory helps!

There is no place I would rather be right now than with peers who get it. Everyday is still an adventure, and there is still time and opportunity to make life as rich and rewarding as possible. It’s like George Burns said:

“You know you’re getting old when you stoop to tie your shoelaces and wonder what else you could do while you’re down there.”

Esther Blumenfeld