Tag Archives: aging with wisdom

The Wreck of the Hesperus

I’m going to start a new series on my blog entitled SENIOR CLASS. You have to be a senior, no pre-Medicares, thank you. SENIOR CLASS will be blogs that have the positives about being a senior. SENIOR CLASS will be blogs that have the negatives about being a senior.

The Wreck of the Hesperus

This first one is negative….

I’m beginning to feel like the Golden Gate Bridge. The workers just finish one end and they need to start over at the beginning. With me, I just get one body part functioning when another goes on the fritz.

Last fall, I had hair fall-out. Not pretty, but at least the only pain was emotional. With the help of Nutrafol and the dermatologist’s Rogaine Plus treatment, my hair had a come back.

So I was doing pretty well…except for the 8 pounds I gained, calming myself with comfort food and drink.

When I realized the truth—that all my clothes had not shrunk in the dryer—I started working to get back in shape. I signed up for Weightwatchers on-line, keeping track of what I ate. That was good, but nerve wracking. There’s never enough points for my double martini.

What got me in trouble was the exercise component. I read an article that said interval training was the only way to go—that I should add running into my walk. Like the Girl Scout I’ve always been, I added the run, along with hills. I increased my steps to 13,000. And I started working out with a trainer.

All went well for about two weeks. My shoulders hurt from doing the plank, but it was bearable. Then I got plantar fasciitis. (Now, we’re talking painful!) I could barely walk to the bathroom. The podiatrist made me a brace, gave me a cortisone shot, prescribed Aleve and a physical therapist.

I got better. Feeling invincible, I went back to my routine. A week later, my left knee and hamstring started to hurt. I ignored the pain even though it woke me up at night. Watching me limp up the stairs, my husband started yelling at me that I needed an MRI and surgery.

I wanted to try alternative methods: rest, ice, physical therapy, chiropractor, acupuncture, meditation. When I went to the physical therapist, she kindly explained interval training for a senior. “Cindy,” she said, “your joints are in their seventies. Leave them alone. At your age, just getting mad at your husband can raise your heart rate enough.”

Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation

For four weeks, I didn’t do any exercise, not even gentle yoga. Meanwhile, I tried making a deal with my Higher Power. “Okay,” I said. “I know I’ve over done it. I get it now. Please, if I can just get better, I won’t do it again.” I became the sedentary couch potato I was afraid of, but slowly the pain lessened.

I even took a short walk. When I came home, I washed my face and realized my right eye was painful. “Oh come on,” I said to the Universe, “what next?” The answer was a stye. Who knew a stye was so painful? And disgusting? Again I was prescribed Aleve along with an antibiotic eye drop.

Ten days later, my eye looks almost normal. My knee is better, too. I’m walking again and doing yoga. All the Aleve is giving me terrible indigestion, but that’s par for the course.

I don’t know why I find myself singing, “Heads, Shoulders, Knees and Toes,” in my head.

Resolving for 2015

 

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Since my birthday is December 28, I approach the new year with a double barrel wish to understand who I am in the present incarnation and what my goals are for the future. This year: Who am I at 69 years of age? And who do I want to be at 70?

But the end of December is a time of chaos for me—no time to contemplate, that’s for sure. Now we’re already a week into the new year, and I wondered if it was stupid to write down resolutions. Would I keep them anyway? Then I began to think about three small things I could do that would make my life better. I wouldn’t write them in a notebook, which I would close and they’d be hidden from view. I would write them on the computer, print them out and scotch tape them to my computer. That way I would see the list every day. Small things—doable things—things that would make me healthier in body, mind and soul—things I could work towards also.

So that’s what I did. Well, sort of. First I wrote them on paper. My mind works better through the pencil on these things. My list grew to 5 very rapidly. Here they are:

1. Be happy with myself at my age.

2. Stretch after my walk.

3. Eat healthy.

4. Think the thought that makes me feel good not the negative or fearful one.

5. Don’t be the Grandiose Co-Dependent.

So I admit some of these aren’t so small. But they are what ended up on the paper. Now I’ve in-putted the list, printed it and taped it up. I ‘ll let you know how it goes.