If I were a car at CarMax, I would be moved to that back lot where the cars with excessive mileage have been put out to pasture. If you’ve never visited that lot, ask about it. An odometer with 75,000 miles qualifies a car for their certain Siberia.
Why do I suddenly have this CarMax fear? Because I’ve spent three weeks in a variety of doctor’s appointments that have revealed the following news:
- I’m experiencing some hearing loss
- I’m now both near-sighted AND far-sighted
- My crowns need to be replaced, and not the fun crowns you wear on your head, but the ones on your teeth that cost as much as a diamond tiara
Combine this good news with the lovely ups and downs of menopause, and I’m just a delight to be around. It’s as if age is waiting around every corner saying, “Boo!” and scaring the crap out of me.
Today was no different. I was supposed to go to the dentist to have three cavities filled before they replaced my crowns. How did that go, you ask? Not so good.
I’m sitting here in front of my computer with a mouth numbed by eleven shots of Novacaine that somehow failed to numb my tooth and now I have a temporary filling and an appointment for a return visit tomorrow.
Awesome, I say to myself, as I stop typing and try to take a drink from my DeerPark water that ends up running down the right side of my mouth and onto my shirt.
Donna’s Pity Party
I fully realize that I am still basically healthy, happy, and fortunate beyond words. Let’s just get that out of the way. But there are certain days when I want to host a pity party for me.
The good news is that this won’t last long. My mother established the precedent of two minutes of pity before she would announce, Let’s have a pity party for Donna, and the whole family would say, POOOOOOR DONNA. I hated those parties.
So, here is my brief but relevant pity party:
I see my body slowly wearing out like that used car in the back lot at CarMax, and I want to say – Hey, don’t give up yet, I’m not finished with his body!
I have more to do, and yet it seems my body is checking out.
Okay, enough of that, and I didn’t even use my full two minutes!
No More Pity Party
I started researching women much older than I who are rockin’ the world rather than boohooing by themselves. Here are a few examples – I encourage you to click on their names to see their stories:
- Johanna Quass is the German Senior Champion of Artistic Gymnastics. She is also 86 years-old.
- Carmen Dell-Ore’fice is 81 years-old. And she is a runway model.
- Ruth Flowers is known is a DJ who plays in the best clubs in the world. At 58 her husband of forty years died. She became a DJ at 68, and is still in the clubs at the tender age of 72 years-old. When asked why she became a DJ, she said because that’s what she wanted to do. Period.
These are the Dames that light our paths and give us hope. Rather than sitting in front of the television telling their best friend about what hurts, they are marching through the world doing what they want simply because they can.
I am going to march into that dentist’s office tomorrow and tell him to numb me from tip to stern and do what he has to do, because I have books to write, and speeches to make, and food to eat, and laughter to share.
And, CarMax, you need to keep me on the hot lot, I’m not ready for Siberia.
Coming up on two weeks. 1st week and a half dragged on, because of several unexpected hurdles -- one messed up prescription and one major appliance breaking, which generated 5 extra car trips. Now the time is going faster. I have set limits, though t
As someone who is reading this with a throbbing mouth thanks to the dentist visit to get a crown… I can relate.
We are only getting better.
Marian
Marian: You are so right. Heck, as toddlers we lost most of our teeth at once and survived
. Thanks for the smile — and I hope your crown is feeling better!!
There’s a truly uplifting book, Late Bloomers, that’s my go to to fight the blues that I get when I realise that going to the doctors has become a social event.
Granny Beth
Granny Beth: I will check out that book. Thanks for the suggestion – uplifting is always a good thing . . . in an emotional sense. Heck, in just about every sense
.
You made me laugh. Thanks. I got through the fifties and of course noticed the eye sight changes and the dry skin but kept on going, got the glasses, slathered on all the cream to chase away the dry skin and thought I was doing pretty good and then the damn sixties landed on me.
Actually, it felt like someone threw on old wet blanket on me. I was simply overcome, totally and pissed. Where the hell had my eyelashes gone. I was already looking in a 5x magnifying mirror with glasses on and there was hardly anything to put mascara on!
I am the oldest of three sisters and I called each of them to warn them.
Then the eyebrows were disappearing (but of course I could not see them) except for one or two dark black, unbelievably wild long hairs, I could barely see them.
Yes of course, then my hair. I had baby fine hair but there a good amount of it. Not in the front anymore. It too has left town for good along with the eyelashes and eyebrows. I style my hair different. Bought some of Joan Rivers stuff to cover your scalp (which works by the way, I have become an artist with that stuff)
I go to the bathroom every five minutes and just cannot even bring myself to go to the dr and complain because I am so distraught over the rest of these issues I want to cry.
The dry skin has enveloped me. I have never used so much slather on my body in my life and it only last for a half hour or so. I have gotten to the point if I know I am going out, I rub in some Argan oil on the backs of my hands and on my forearms to keep things “looking moist” for an evening out.
Water, I drink tons of water because that helps with the dryness. But alas, if you already go potty every ten minutes, I am worn out at the end of the day.
Last but not least. The final blow of all was: one day I am sitting at the computer and “she: just starts to hurt, kinda itch and burn and I am thinking what is wrong. Of course I went to the potty and had to go and lo and behold, it hurt “hurt” and me too. I thought OMG what is it now.
I called my Aunt who is 83 and I told her. This time she did not say I am sorry honey, she said get on line and order some of these vitamin e suppositories and “she” will be just fine in a day or two. OMG, I just cried some more.
After my pity party and tears, I got on line and looked up female aging and all and found out, this could be a thryoid condition. I was elated. I had my thyroid tested and anxiously awaited the results. My results were just a bit over the very bottom of the scale and the dr said, oh no, you are within normal range. So, nope we cannot give you thryoid.
I was devasted and disappointed.
Betty Davis said “getting old is not for sissies”. She was right.
So, I am going to go get a few eyelash extension, begin to use rogaine and maybe go see about the bladder repair.
I am just astonished at my body that it did not give me more warning, like a big neon sign or something that the skids are coming. It was just small little increments a little at a time until the combined effect is like a train wreck.
I am just disappointed because I finally feel good about myself, am partially retired and was looking forward to my so called freedom and I do not think of myself as 64 (how did that happen) because I still feel like me, I don’t feel old.
My sisters and I laugh like crazy when we talk about this “age” because you damn right you need more freedom because between trying to keep is old girls (my sister’s)in presentable and running condition with beauty treatments, exercise, doctors appoints and keep the old brain in working order – it takes a lot of time and dedication.
I could not possibly be working full time right now because it is a job just doing that and keeping tracking of appointments and looking for the stuff I can’t find cause I cannot remember where the heck I put it but it is here somewhere.
lathm
Gold Bangles: Thank you for being so honest and sharing your frustrations. I have a good friend who is 62 that just shared an incident concerning her upcoming cataracts surgery. She had to pee in a cup to prove she’s in good enough shape to have the surgery, when she said some man who didn’t speak English came into the women’s bathroom with HIS cup and started banging on her stall. She said she was trying to pee in the cup which now flew out of her hand and under the stall beside her. She stood up, shooed the man away, and then didn’t have to pee anymore. Sometimes we just have to laugh. I think it’s our best option. I do have some friends that are taking that pill that gives them better eyelashes (Latisse?). I’m just afraid they’ll find out it thickens your eyelashes but causes some other body part to drop off. So, let’s just keep laughing. If Yoda can be a major star with no hair and dry skin, then so can we
.
Thank you for the laughs. I needed that. My god yes, the laughter is the best part especially when you know your not alone! My sisters and I keep ourselves in stitches!