This Just Isn't Right
Getting old is a gradual process, right? First, you might get some gray hair. Then, you find it harder to lose weight and maybe you have problems sleeping. Next, it might be a knee or shoulder repair or your doctor puts you on a preventative medication. It doesn’t happen all at once. It takes time. A long time.
Except for me. Sigh.
I got a one-two punch to my desperately held view that I’m not old this week. Really, in one week! Technically, less so because the first punch was Wednesday and the second one was today.
First up - I’m now joining many others in taking medication for high blood pressure. I’ve been borderline hypertensive for the past few years but I’ve fully entered high blood pressure country now. We had our annual health screening at work a few weeks ago and all of my numbers were good except for my BP which was 128/92. Last year, it was 132/82. The 92 alarmed them enough that I had to sign a paper saying I would get it rechecked and see my doctor if it hadn’t dropped.
I scheduled an appointment with my doctor on Wednesday and after getting the “it would probably go down if you lose weight and exercise more” speech, he decided to put me on Lisinopril. It’s the same stuff he’s on so it must be good, right? He didn’t make the decision lightly but after reviewing my pressures from the last 10 years or so, he could see where it was going.
I have a full physical scheduled next month so we’ll see if the meds help. In the meantime, I’m convinced that any remote pain in my chest or tingle in my arm means I’m having a heart attack. By the gods, I am my Father’s daughter. (The Rocket Scientist will probably have a minor cardiac episode himself when he reads this. He's agreed to take in George if anything happens to me. It wasn't an instant decision; he mentally calculated which one of us (George or me) was likely to live longer.)
The second blow came when I went in to get new glasses. My old ones were from 2009 and, while I could still see mostly OK, the material for the transitional lenses was peeling off. It started doing that when I went on my cruise in February. Damn humidity.
What I can’t see with my glasses is anything close up. If I take them off, I can read a book or the newspaper just fine and, until fairly recently, see my laptop as well. My work computer was impossible, though. It was just too far away for no glasses but with my glasses on I couldn’t focus. So, my routine is to come in to work, take off my newer glasses and put on the previous pair with the weaker prescription. They work well enough to walk around but not well enough to drive unless it’s full daylight.
OK, long story short, I’m getting my first pair of bifocals. Egads. Of course, I’m paying who knows how much to get the ones where you don’t see the line where the lens changes. That was a no-brainer decision.
I decided to go with a separate pair of sunglasses without the bifocal lens. They’re a little bigger so they’ll give me more protection from the sun (less squinting means less wrinkles!) and I don’t want to have to worry about the material peeling on them.
I can’t wait to see what Mother Nature has for me next. Well, that’s a lie. Actually, I’m almost afraid to go in for my physical but I will. I’m just not looking forward to finding which body part is the next to fall apart on me.
Of course, the worst part may be that everyone that I’ve teased over the years for being old will now have every right to welcome me to the club. I’m sure they’ll do it in the nicest way possible. Nice for them, that is.
Except for me. Sigh.
I got a one-two punch to my desperately held view that I’m not old this week. Really, in one week! Technically, less so because the first punch was Wednesday and the second one was today.
First up - I’m now joining many others in taking medication for high blood pressure. I’ve been borderline hypertensive for the past few years but I’ve fully entered high blood pressure country now. We had our annual health screening at work a few weeks ago and all of my numbers were good except for my BP which was 128/92. Last year, it was 132/82. The 92 alarmed them enough that I had to sign a paper saying I would get it rechecked and see my doctor if it hadn’t dropped.
I scheduled an appointment with my doctor on Wednesday and after getting the “it would probably go down if you lose weight and exercise more” speech, he decided to put me on Lisinopril. It’s the same stuff he’s on so it must be good, right? He didn’t make the decision lightly but after reviewing my pressures from the last 10 years or so, he could see where it was going.
I have a full physical scheduled next month so we’ll see if the meds help. In the meantime, I’m convinced that any remote pain in my chest or tingle in my arm means I’m having a heart attack. By the gods, I am my Father’s daughter. (The Rocket Scientist will probably have a minor cardiac episode himself when he reads this. He's agreed to take in George if anything happens to me. It wasn't an instant decision; he mentally calculated which one of us (George or me) was likely to live longer.)
The second blow came when I went in to get new glasses. My old ones were from 2009 and, while I could still see mostly OK, the material for the transitional lenses was peeling off. It started doing that when I went on my cruise in February. Damn humidity.
What I can’t see with my glasses is anything close up. If I take them off, I can read a book or the newspaper just fine and, until fairly recently, see my laptop as well. My work computer was impossible, though. It was just too far away for no glasses but with my glasses on I couldn’t focus. So, my routine is to come in to work, take off my newer glasses and put on the previous pair with the weaker prescription. They work well enough to walk around but not well enough to drive unless it’s full daylight.
OK, long story short, I’m getting my first pair of bifocals. Egads. Of course, I’m paying who knows how much to get the ones where you don’t see the line where the lens changes. That was a no-brainer decision.
I decided to go with a separate pair of sunglasses without the bifocal lens. They’re a little bigger so they’ll give me more protection from the sun (less squinting means less wrinkles!) and I don’t want to have to worry about the material peeling on them.
I can’t wait to see what Mother Nature has for me next. Well, that’s a lie. Actually, I’m almost afraid to go in for my physical but I will. I’m just not looking forward to finding which body part is the next to fall apart on me.
Of course, the worst part may be that everyone that I’ve teased over the years for being old will now have every right to welcome me to the club. I’m sure they’ll do it in the nicest way possible. Nice for them, that is.
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