Episode 116: Old Gray Mare Ain't What She Used to Be

Sheesh. Who knew getting older was such a bitch!

Can't say I worried about it too much in recent decades, but things have advanced on me quickly in the last four years.

I've had five operations in the last two years, three of which were serious back operations, the last of which I have yet to fully recover from. Up until 2019, I routinely did four workouts a week. Today, not so much. I've had dozens of PT sessions, so much so I flee a doctor's office every time someone brings it up. Yet I'm about to start again.

In the last four weeks I've had two help-I can't-get-up-falls, (see my next blog) one in the front yard and one in the living room. But the first fall in recent memory was six years ago, when we were taking care of a friend's dog. Nicest dog in the world, but she turned out to be an escape artist. Well, in this case the cleaning ladies let her out the front door as they were coming in and didn't mention it.

When I realized the dog was gone an hour and some later, I ran out the front door and up the street toward the cul de sac. I can guarantee you that you will never feel stupider than if you jog along your street shouting, "Petunia! Petunia! Where are you, Petunia?"

As it turned out, my neighbor had grabbed Petunia as she passed. My street is on a slight hill and in spite of my efforts to slow down, I began to gain speed. At the last minute, I tripped on one section of my neighbor's small concrete walk and face planted on another.

Petunia was not impressed, but I couldn't leave the house for a week due to the bruising. The cleaning ladies left in tears, though I didn't yell at them. Petunia made two more efforts to escape, which luckily came to naught. She now lives with our friend in Florida near a pond, where the consequences of escaping are much greater given the rampant alligator population.

Next blog: How aging continues to suck.