… And the chump is me.
We’re all doing that slow and eventual march to the grave – no matter what we prefer to think, or regardless of what ridiculous lengths we go to for the sake of being healthy
As time goes on, I’m ever more aware that this is true for me.
When I was 15, I used to unequivocally state – and was only half-kidding – that I was going to drop dead at 25 from eating the largest steak dinner ever and having the resulting heart attack while consorting with a beautiful woman.
I must report that at 25, only the beautiful woman showed up.
So now I’m circling 34 years of age… and honestly, I sometimes forget how old I am – mainly due to the fact that my age really doesn’t matter to anyone.
I’ve stopped relating age to the things that happen in my life, which is a development that was a long time overdue: I started getting gray hair when I was 13 years old – that one sure sign that The Reaper has started writing down your name.
My knees have been wearing down since I was 12 via both ‘natural’ and athletic processes – in that exact order.
Knees that grind are very unpleasant to hear internally, unpleasant to feel physically, and can really suck when it comes to endurance.
In fact, the only upside to knees that grind like a bad transmission is how easy it is to give a girl you’re dating the willies: ‘Hey… wanna feel something weird? Put your hand on my knee while I bend it.’
Works every time.
My back kills me some days after a lifetime of stress: a genetically exaggerated curvature of the spinal column, multiple athletics derived fractures (horse back riding, motorcycle riding, wrestling).
The most frequent symptom (other than overt stiffness when getting up from certain positions) is a burning pain through my left erector spinae (lumbar region back muscle) which can really suck sometimes: imagine someone trying to perform surgery on your back with a thin-edged wooden spoon and you might be able to visualize the pain.
I’ve fractured and right-out broken both legs… my left one in three places to the point where I now have a titanium rod holding it together for the rest of my life – which makes me happy that I don’t do a whole lot of flying.
My teeth are slowly chipping and crumbling away after a hard decade of drinking nothing but coffee, tea, and cola – which also gave my horrible kidney stones towards the end.
The 2nd most recent issue facing me is one that’s incredibly distracting at times: myodesopsia… or in plain terms, eye floaters.
Those of you out there who have this affliction know how insidious it is – especially if you work with computers or other high-contrast visual work. You constantly have things moving through your line of sight – you even think you see bugs on the walls if the floater is going through your peripheral vision.
For those who haven’t experienced floaters as a frequent plague, check this video and then try to imagine it happening to you.
Finally, the most recent issue for me requires an OTC treatment that is somewhat embarassing: Preparation H.
That’s kind of the sure sign that you’re aging.
I can no longer delude myself into thinking that I’m still amongst the young when there are days where I wish I had one of those funny rubber cushions you see at the drug store – you know… the O-shaped ones that look like they’re made at the same factory that issues whoopee cushions.
Add that to a litany of pre-existing gastro intestinal issues, and you don’t really have a fun time on certain days.
Not even 34 and I have a body that feels at least 43.
The chump is definitely me.