My wife just had a birthday.  I won’t say how old she is except to say that she’ll probably remain at her current age for the foreseeable future.  I’ll also say that she’s six months OLDER than I am.  I never get tired of reminding her of this fact, particularly in front of large crowds. 

That aside, we are getting older.  While not mentally, in my case, at least physically.  The fall I took off my son’s skateboard today is proof of this. I already know that the knee I whacked is going to be sore tomorrow and yet somehow I’ll still be surprised when I awake to the pain.

I am thankful however that at least I am still ABLE to sleep.  My parents have reached the age where they have apparently lost this natural ability. Instead they spend their nights staring at one another or listening to the other’s breathing patterns to see if they’re sleeping at which point one will say “Are you sleeping?” thereby waking up the other and the dance begins again.

Less than two months ago I was recovering from hernia surgery—correction, BILATERAL hernia surgery.  For you laymen that means two hernias.  In the weeks leading up to my surgery I found myself thinking about Billy Crystal’s “aging” speech in the movie City Slickers: “In your 50’s you’ll have a minor surgery.  You’ll call it a procedure”.   I figured I still had several years before my first procedure but alas.

Old age has a way of creeping up on you.  Instead of broad-siding you like a semi, it sort of hamstrings you. We seem to lose those magical recuperative powers we had as kids and as we age it hardly matters when one ailment heals because there are a half dozen others lined up behind it.  I liken it to the new car vs. used car syndrome.  The new car might, by chance, end up in the shop with a defective alternator, but once repaired, it’s good to go for another 70,000 miles.  The old car, on the other hand, no sooner leaves the shop with that new alternator when the water pump blows. I have fond memories of an old Toyota that did that very thing.

I don’t think I realized what kind of shape I was in before I had kids.  Kids FORCE you to become active.  You have no choice.  Before kids I was quite content with my “boarding on sloth like” existence.  Now I’m forced to run… for FUN.  I see only two good arguments to be made for running, 1) I’m in danger and 2) It’s free wiener day at Hot Dog on a Stick. Otherwise, forget about it.  I’d forgotten that kids enjoy running. And not just running but all sorts of things that require me to remain vertical for extended periods of time, all of which remind me of my advancing years.

I am now on a first name basis with the folks at Long’s Pharmacy. At the ripe old age of 35 I was diagnosed with colitis for which I now take daily medication.  I have this strange ache in my left ankle.  I get migraines. I’ve got this nerve problem in my elbow. My left knee began acting up just recently and every morning my neck aches. A few years ago I had to be transported by ambulance to John Muir Hospital because a back injury left me unable to crawl, let alone walk.  I have NO idea what I did to injure myself.  All I can come up with is that perhaps I slouched too vigorously on the couch.

Lately I have found myself slipping into the same conversations with my wife: 

“How are your knees feeling?” I’ll ask.  (If my wife doesn’t get enough sleep, her knees hurt.  Don’t ask me, I don’t understand it either.  I just offer sympathy.) 

“They hurt.  How’s your neck?”

“It hurts.  Thanks for asking.” 

“Maybe you slept wrong.” She’ll offer.    

OK, point of discussion. To my way of thinking, once I fall asleep, I’m doing it right.  If I were trying to sleep by say strapping myself to a mechanical bull at a Metallica concert THAT would be sleeping wrong.  No, I think I’ve got the sleeping part down.  However, my neck apparently feels otherwise.  Perhaps the nightly visits from our son, who is only able to get restful sleep if it involves kicking me in the head, have something to do with it.  But I digress.  And besides, Beverly says my prescription is ready.

BIO:

Clayton resident, Joe Romano is a free-lance writer for hire. He can be reached at jromano01@yahoo.com