I had my annual Medicare “wellness” visit, and I found the whole business rather depressing. I know it’s a good thing, but it feels like the documentation of my decline.
At some point she asked, how is your stamina? I’m thinking, why? Does it look like I’m dying?
But I said, oh, you know how it is for us old folks. I walk 30-40 miles a week, I play golf twice a week, I do boatloads of stretching and strengthening exercises, I’m surviving the second Trump administration and I have been taking care of Dale and everything in Dale’s house since he broke his pelvis last Christmas … while recovering from a broken arm.
Backwards and in high heels.
She laughed. I think it was just a form question, anyway.
The documentation of my decline seems pretty defeatist. After all, a check-up doesn’t necessarily mean something is wrong. It can just mean it’s time for some scheduled maintenance.
I’ve already suggested we should be more like cheese, aging well and becoming more interesting with time. But apparently cheese is taken. So I’ve decided to reframe this experience and from now on think of myself as a car.
When it comes to cars, I like a nice ride, but nothing too fancy. Simple, functional. Reasonably attractive. I keep it clean, but I’m not a fanatic.
I also take my car in for scheduled service. Nothing bad. A few fluids and adjustments to keep the machine running smoothly for the next 100,000 miles.
With people and with cars, mileage isn’t the same thing as decline. It doesn’t mean the vehicle has failed. Sure, we aren’t new anymore. We require maintenance and sometimes need repairs. But we’re not done yet.
And I always hold onto a car as long as it runs.
I went to my dermatologist a few years back to have some thing that had popped up looked at. It was benign, phew, and it had a long name and some kind of explanation behind it. I asked him, “Is this from getting old?” and he said, kind of exasperated (for him, because he was a lovely guy), “It means you’re ALIVE. If you are living in a body, things happen. You’re not old, you’re alive.”
Addendum: well I guess you can be both!
My dermo likes to call it “maturity.” I like the alive reference better!
I would love to be able to do what you are still doing. It’s a challenge to keep pushing oneself to be active, especially when one loves being active, as the body pulls in the opposite direction of declining with one thing after another. Gah! I can’t seem to keep up. Anyway, I loved your answer. The annual medicare “wellness” exam is a joke in my opinion. All of my PCP’s allotted 15 minutes are spent checking the necessary boxes and ordering the ubiquitous labs to see if I can reach the metrics that are the same whether you’re 20 years old or 75 years old. What’s up with that? Why do they expect an aging body to perform at the same level as someone 50+ years younger than you? I still haven’t been able to have that make sense to me. And then, if you do get stellar results on your labs like I did last time, they raise the ante to do even better. I give up. I’m just in to enjoying whatever time I have left. THAT I can get behind! (And now I’ll go in the back room for a little chair yoga and my PT back exercises.)
It is difficult, indeed. I also hate all the moving targets on the lab work. Some years my A1C is marginally over normal, so they put in my records that I’m pre-diabetic. Other years it’s normal, so they remove it from the records. Dumb.
I am also trying to focus on just enjoying whatever time I have left.
Well, Donna, you’re not letting the old man in (check out Toby Keith’s song)! Aging is inevitable; we can only keep moving forward.
Definitely don’t want to let the old man in! One is enough (sorry, Dale).
These exams are pretty worthless. I don’t know if it’s because of the way they work, or if the fact that I have a new doctor means it’s not much of a checkup. As older people, don’t we still need a more thorough exam? I don’t even take my clothes off!! In a way, it’s nice, but I still wonder if anyone cares how we are doing. Labs are only so much of an exam. Oh well. I’m just glad no more PAP smears and mammograms every other year.
It’s a racket. But I guess it’s the racket we are stuck with. I don’t miss PAP smears and mammograms, either!
I always spend the whole visit trying to remember the three words because I’m afraid if I miss one it will seem like I’m losing my memory. Since I can still remember duck, penny, table after 10 days, I guess I’m okay. At least for another year. I do wonder what the digital generations will be asked to draw instead of an analog clock.
I’m 71, and those tests haven’t started yet. I dread them, especially anything involving math. I can’t count by 7s forward, let alone backward.
This is me too! I think that’s a weird test for cognition anyway. Until I’m asked about the 3 words, I keep repeating them over and over in my head, ignoring anything else being said to me so what good is it? I once asked the young woman if she thought they would change the clock face exercise when her generation reached old age, and she seemed confused. Again, strange tests I think, in order to see if we still have our marbles left. I wonder what they would do if I told them that I think the tests are stupid and that I refuse to take part in them? I guess they would put me down as a non compliant patient. It might make the visit more interesting.
I might refuse. Recently when they tell me to get on the scale, I say, can we skip that today? And they always say yes. Maybe because I’m slender I get away with it, but it never hurts to try.
Donna, your metaphor game is absolutely top notch! I, too, keep a hold of my cars for a long time, and happily lavish time and money on keeping them in good condition to keep on keeping on.
I was in the hospital today getting my foot checked out and was asked “but are you well otherwise” said pointedly, while looking at my walking stick. I confirmed that while bits weren’t working as well as previously, I was doing just fine. I couldn’t brag the way you could, but while stuff could be better, I talk to far too many people in my day job who demonstrate just how bad life can be at this age, so I know when I’m lucky.
I must remember to add “backwards and in heels” the next time I’m asked! 😉
This getting older business is not for amateurs. I do believe our humor will carry us through. I was at the optomotrist yesterday, and the technician said they had some new medical questions, if I wouldn’t mind answering. I’m like, sure. He said, “Have you had any surgeries where they removed body parts?” OMG. My whole inside is hollow. I started going through the list, and I think he gave up.
Nooooooo! I’d love to have seen the look on his face when you replied 😀 😀
Car is spot on. I feel the same way some parts are wearing out but the car is still running
I’m liking the car thing, too. There’s a new song by Buddy Miller called “Till The Wheels Come Off.” One of the verses:
You can rev me up, you can slow me down
Hit me head on, I’ll still be around
Everything it takes, no matter what it costs
Gonna ride it out ’til the wheels come off