Announcing a new Facebook Group and a new Blog


We have created a new Facebook Group called

The Childress (Texas) High School Classes of 1960-1966

Created for anyone from the Childress (Texas) High School classes of 1960-1966 who is looking to reconnect or connect with former friends and classmates.

If you are currently a member of Facebook or if you are planning to become a member of Facebook, we invite you to join the group. Contact either Nicki or Jennifer for information.

You are also invited to visit our new blog, Voices From the Class of '63,
Showing posts with label Health Issues of Aging. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Health Issues of Aging. Show all posts

Friday, August 8, 2008

Aging ... Exploding Eggs ... and 115 Pennies....


Yahn and Hanuman in Bali, October 2004

This has been an interesting week ... in the sense of the old Chinese curse "May you live in interesting times." My dear Yahn has been ill since this past weekend ... having had to be rushed to the emergency room, where we spent several hours before being allowed to come home ... with the instructions that he is prohibited from leaving the house until he sees the doctor again this coming Monday. The heat, high ozone and unusually high humidity combined to pretty much shut down his lungs ... admittedly not helped by his diagnosed COPD, likewise not helped by an almost literally lifelong habit of smoking ... still, it was and is a scary experience for both of us. I cannot help but reflect that we have wonderful insurance, for which we are thankful ... but I must remember that there are many who don't....

As far as any finger-wagging "I told you so" type comments ... it should be noted that I smoked cigarettes (joyously, I must say ... I have always enjoyed smoking, health threats notwithstanding) for about the same amount of time and in pretty much the same quantity as Yahn has ... and yet, as verified by recent X-rays and CT-scans, my lungs are quite clear (amazingly so) and functional. I do not say this to imply that smoking is okay ... it really isn't ... but just to draw a comparison. (It is also worth noting that for many, many years cigarettes were advertised and promoted extensively, and tobacco growers were actually subsidized by our government ... and oddly enough, they still are....)

So ... obviously there are other factors at work (like genetics) which play a large part in determining how we will age, and the debilitating conditions to which we will be most susceptible as our bodies and (more frighteningly, at least to me) our minds decline with age.

A recent study presented at the 2008 Alzheimer's Association's International Conference in Chicago found (as other studies have hinted) that whether you are single or divorced in midlife seems to have a major influence on your risk for developing that dreaded disease. One of the unusual things about this particular study was that it began tracking people at the age of 50, and then followed up with them 21 years later (at 71, for those who are mathematically challenged, as I am) to assess the long-term risk. The report asserted that those who were living with a spouse or partner at midlife were 50 percent less likely to develop dementia during their older years. Those who had lived alone their entire adult lives doubled their risk, but those who had been married and subsequently divorced who remained single in midlife were three times as likely to develop cognitive problems. Obviously this study and others are ongoing ... nevertheless, it does seem to show a correlation of elder mental health and functionality with socialization and companionship in the allegedly "golden years."

In addition to the foregoing, and based on other studies, I must say I have also come to believe through my own observations that there is also a genetic factor that comes into play with Alzheimer's, and COPD, and diabetes, and alcoholism, and other diseases/conditions we may become more prone to as we age.

This week has also been a bad one for my little Noah. Those who have followed "Noah's story" on this blog know that we adopted Noah just about a year ago, as a shelter rescue dog who had come to his "last day." It was a surprise for Yahn after 40 years as "cat people" to suddenly be confronted by me leashed to this wonderful, sweet, loving little dog. But Yahn, as always, rose to the occasion magnificently ... and indeed has come to love Noah almost as much as I do, and almost as much as Noah loves me. Yahn has graciously accepted the secondary position in this love affair, as befits his kind and generous nature.

When I adopted Noah, I knew he was an older dog ... 8-10 years, the shelter people guesstimated (although the veterinarian told me this week that was likely a generous estimate and he is likely older ... he is almost certainly entering the geriatric phase of his life) ... and that he had experienced a very hard life (we will never know all of the things that were done to him ... and I truly believe there is a special place in hell or karma for anyone who abuses a helpless animal) ... but Yahn and I were both so hopeful that we could have a few good years with him.

Noah and I developed our little routines ... almost daily rides in the car, listening to music (his favorite thing ... and he loves oldies, but has a broad appreciation for other musical genres) ... "dancing" together in the house or on the patio ... little games known only to me and Noah ... who by the way doesn't know what a treat or a toy is ... he apparently never had them before. But despite everything that has happened to him, he remains a source of unconditional love and joy ... and he is my sweet little baby....

This past Monday morning, after he had been acting lethargic for a few days (and coughing and throwing up), I had to rush Noah to our wonderful vet ... who admitted him to the pet "hospital" ICU ... ran tests ... and found that Noah is exhibiting signs of renal failure. (We have known for some time that he has a heart murmur, and that it is only a matter of time before that may still his sweet, loving little heart) ... but the renal failure is something new. Noah spent two full days and part of another in the hospital while he was hydrated and medicated. I know that Dr. Dennis has done almost everything possible for him, short of prolonging his life to the point where it becomes torture for him ... but this morning I sit typing this, listening to him cough and sometimes softly cry ... and all the treatment (and the hope!) from earlier this week aside, I fear he will not be with us much longer. I am determined that I shall not make him miserable just because I can hardly bear to part with him ... but still, wrapping my head around this is oh so difficult, and I can barely face the prospect of not seeing his sweet little face and loving eyes every day. But I must come to grips ... and perhaps sooner than I thought, or would like....

Which of course begs the question: Why is it that responsible pet owners may choose to euthanize their beloved animals to prevent them from terrible pain and decline ... yet most states (I believe Oregon is still the only maverick here) refuse to allow terminally ill patients to choose euthanasia when they have reached a point where there is to be no cure, and that only terrible pain and/or mental decline awaits them? I know that many will cite religious reasons ... and I am certainly conscious that diverse people have diverse religious and/or ethical beliefs. Still ... it seems to me that no one is proposing that anyone be euthanized without his/her own informed consent ... and why should those who have no religious or other dogmatic hang-ups about such matters have to defer to those who do? Not trying to get an argument going here ... just sharing some musings on the subject ... positing a pondering point....

Misroscopy image of a neurofibriliary tangle, seen in Alzheimer's research

Microscopy image of a neurofibrilary tangle, conformed by hyperphosphorylated tau protein.

As with the Alzheimer's study cited above, and others, it appears that one of the things that we, as we inexorably age, should be most cognizant of is the need to remain "socialized" ... socially viable with a network of friends and optimally a spouse/partner, interested in a diversity of subjects, active to the extent that we are genetically permitted. I believe unequivocally that this blog is a means for doing that... It is also recommended that we develop new interests, new passions ... or at least cultivate and expand those we already have ... that we participate in "new" things and concepts.... And so ...

... in the past few weeks, I have also become involved with the local chapter of a human rights organization, which I plan to continue over the next several months at least ... through the election season and wherever else it takes me. One of the multifarious concerns of this organization is our aging population ... hey folks!!! that's us!!! ... and how circumstances change for the elderly ... how some, despite good planning, or as much good planning as they were able to manage ... come to the end of their lives without enough money, or enough family, or enough friends ... and must live sometimes in dire circumstances just to put some kind of roof over their heads and some kind of food on the table.

The man who introduced me to this organization (who has become a friend, and so supportive during this past week) challenged me not long ago to try to live for "x" number of days on an amount that someone who receives minimal Social Security would have to buy food. (Not worrying about housing costs, utilities, etc., of course those are daily considerations ... but just buying enough food....) I've never been able to resist a challenge (perhaps I should have on a few occasions), so I agreed. Obviously I did not insist that Yahn, or little Noah, or the three kitties (Calamity, Gaius Maximus and Antonio "Toody") go on short rations ... although I must say that at a certain point what even the cats were eating did begin to look rather attractive....

And so I threw myself into the "experiment" ... thinking and planning and doing what I could to stretch each dollar as far as it would go (as anyone who knows me is aware, this is not behavior that comes naturally to me). I figured out that eggs are cheap (and really quite nutritious and good for you despite the bad-rap on cholesterol a few years ago), so I bought eggs. Had to forgo the whole-grain bread ... and indeed even standard Mrs. Baird's white bread (a staple of our childhood and the Birthday Club at the old Palace Theater) is almost $3 a loaf now. Jeez Louise!!!! Forget fresh produce ... fresh fish (although I did manage to find one small salmon fillet on a distressed, "must go today" sale, and it only tasted a little funny) ... and anything resembling beef as most of us know it. I did find a pack of chicken thighs (4 of them ... and I prefer breast meat) for under $2. And of course, there is peanut butter and jelly, if you buy the cheap stuff, which does have some nutritional value (almond butter is better for you, but more expensive).

Well, one day I decided to make egg salad (gotta say I cheated just a bit by already having the vinegar, mayo, mustard, etc. in stock) to try to "stretch" the eggs, so I put the eggs on to boil. And while I was waiting for that, I got sidetracked ... not difficult sometimes ... with blog things, and telephone calls with friends (at least I was socializing), and little Noah, and Yahn ... and when it occurred to me a looooong time later that there were eggs on the stove, I ran in to see that they had boiled
dry and the shells were beginning to burn. I grabbed the pan off the stove, hit the cold water tap, thrust the pan under the faucet ... and two of the eggs exploded!!!! Exploded!!! I guess fortunately they were by that point beyond hard boiled, so the mess was easier to clean up ... but I am still shaking my head over the exploding eggs ... and the fact that I frittered (no pun intended) away eight precious eggs when my food was so limited. (And before anyone writes ... yes, I know enough not to put water on a grease fire....)

Intellectual activities such as playing chess or regular social interaction have been linked to a reduced risk of AD in epidemiological studies, although no causal relationship has been found.

Honore Daumier painting of older gentlemen playing chess for intellectual stimulation

In the Sunday paper (also cheating I fear, because many financially-deprived seniors wouldn't be able to afford the daily newspaper) I found a coupon in Target's advertising insert. The coupon said that if one transferred a new prescription, a generic prescription ($4 maximum charge) to a Target store during that week, one would receive a $10 Target gift card. Well, as it happened, I had a generic prescription that needed refilling at that very time ... and fortunately (unlike many seniors) I drive a gas-easy Toyota Prius, so the gasoline to go to and from Target didn't totally negate my $6 net on the deal. I used the gift card to buy a few necessities, including toilet tissue (not food, but an expensive necessity, at least as far as I am concerned), which was on the list of things I was expected to provide for myself. Of course, many seniors couldn't take advantage of this offer because they have long ago given up prescription drugs in favor of other necessities, like food and shelter....

As I came down to the end
of my period of enforced penury, I found I had $4.15 in a variety of change ... including 115 pennies ... and I was running out of bread among other things ... so as I pondered, and pondered, and pondered, what I could get (what I needed) to make it through, I anguished over how I was going to use those 115 pennies. (Going to my bank and exchanging them was out of the question because many seniors don't have bank accounts). And I thought with much chagrin of having to go to a store where I was known, and counting out change ... particularly 115 pennies ... and let me tell you, the thought was embarrassing. And yet there are people (our contemporaries, or nearly so) who go through these soul-killing exercises every day.

So, I looked at the Wednesday paper
(cheating, cheating) and the grocery special inserts ... and lo and behold, I discovered one store (which I never patronize) in the immediate area which was offering several specials on 2 for $1 canned "mystery" meat, etc., and I thought: "I can go to that store!!! They don't know me and I'll never be back." (A luxury not enjoyed by many of the elderly....)

And so I went to that store, and bought four
cans of "processed" sausage (so healthy ... unknown animal and insect parts ... yech!!! ... low sodium ... haaaa!), two cans of pork 'n' beans (88 cents, and you don't want to know the provenance of that pork ... nor did I) and one loaf of the store's generic, really questionable white bread for $1.09. As I approached the checkouts, this sweet little girl stepped out and said she could take me at her register ... and I told her she would be sorry she offered.

Nevertheless, with great courtesy (it occurs
to me that she must see a lot of seniors in less than optimal circumstances in that store) she scanned my items and then began counting my change (to the great annoyance of a guy who had come behind me in line). That tally ... particularly the 115 pennies (which I insisted that she use before some of the other change, just in case I needed a dime or a nickel later ... for what???) ... was among the seemingly longest times of my life.... Face red, actually glowing and giving off heat I think, I escaped to my Prius (the guy who had been in line behind me looked at the car quizzically) ... and the experiment came to an end two days later ... just as I was beginning to run short of provisions again.

As Bette Davis said: "Old age is not for sissies." Nor apparently for those who weren't fortunate enough (admittedly some may have been short-sighted) to put enough away for retirement ... or for the period when they were no longer physically or mentally able to work. I've also read several studies recently which suggest that the Baby Boomers (of which I am one) who planned sensibly for retirement are going to be most unpleasantly surprised if they don't have the good sense to drop dead quickly enough.

Please spare me that some people "should have" earned more money ... or put more aside.... We all are not "created equal" ... not equally gifted as to intelligence and circumstance ... when it comes to being able to make a living. Working hard ... even three full-time jobs at minimum wage (which accounts for 24 hours, with no time at all to sleep or try to better oneself or interact with one's children) ... is not always enough, even if physically possible. And when you have children, particularly if you are a single working mother (not always by choice or caprice) and the question is whether to feed your children or save for retirement, guess which option will (and should) win out??? Or perhaps some did prepare as they "should have" (under assumptive but not necessarily realistic criteria) ... but then early onset Alzheimer's or some other debilitating condition robbed them of their ability to make reasonable decisions ... or exorbitant unforeseen medical bills wiped out carefully tended savings.... Some of us seem in real need of an apparently missing or dysfunctional compassion chip.... But I digress....

(Last minute sidebar: Just as I was about to publish this, after I wrote the above paragraph, I received e-notice of a New York Times op-ed piece on "Compassion Deficit Disorder." Seems to be a lot of that going around, in some rosy circles in particular....)



Little Noah on the patio (I know I've used this picture before, but he is hesitant to have pictures taken ... tries to hide from the camera ... so this will have to do....)

Good thoughts and wishes are gratefully accepted on behalf of Yahn and little Noah ... who I know is thankful for every good thing that comes his way.

I am just hoping we can get Noah into/through the fall, so we can go "dance" in the parks and run through the changing, falling leaves once the terrible heat breaks....
And lest anyone think I am not equally (or more) concerned about Yahn ... I am not having to contemplate euthanizing him ... anytime soon anyway.... (grin)

)O(

My Photo

Sunday, November 11, 2007

We're Not Getting Older; We're Getting Better.

A sure cure for a bad day or a bad mood is to visit your nearest greeting card shop and spend time reading the cards. It is impossible to not find your spirits lifted a bit when most of the cards lend themselves to laughter. We often spend much of our time laughing at the cards that in some way deal with the subject of aging, after all many of our friends are now hitting 60 and above, and we want to find just the right card to emphasize that they will soon be the recipient of many of the "ravages of time." You know the ones I mean, loss of memory, loss of hair, loss of one's sexual urges, loss of energy, loss of one's teeth, loss of hearing and the list goes on. While we laugh, it is also hard to not feel a twinge or two when some cliche or another hits home. The truth is, as the bumper sticker says, "getting old is not for sissies." The expression carries more truth than fiction. In many ways aging does hurts. All of us carry with us more aches, more pains, more health conditions and more pills and medicines. Additionally, aging in our society often results in loss of self esteem and a loss of self worth brought on by among other things the media. If we are not seeking out nips and tucks for every part of our bodies, we are led to believe that there is no way we can ever be considered beautiful or desirable again.

Recently my son-in-law and daughter commented after a trip to St. Kitts that the people who seemed to be having the most fun were a large group of "blue hairs" who invaded the swimming pool with little or no regard as to how they looked in bathing suits (even bikinis). Apparently their raucous comments which included the word, Viagra, were accompanied by merriment and loud laughter! Obviously these people had found a way to live long enough to become an "embarrassment to their children" as they lived life to the fullest.

So where are you today my fellow aging classmates from the class of 1963? Are you going to take this aging thing lying down by giving in or giving up, or hiding your head in the sand hoping it will all go away. I say a resounding NO to that. It is time to take back our lives to assert ourselves as being vital, important , and fun. Will you say "bring it on" like Linda Kay and Jennifer? Will you adopt the philosophies of crabby, cranky,Maxine from those Hallmark Cards and join her in "snarkiness?" Will you spend your time wishing you were 16 or 20 again or will you admit that 60 is sexy and as some say now that 60 is the old 40?

As for myself, I am really really glad to be my age.
I would hate being young and naive, or facing life again without the experience and hindsight that I have today. I would hate not being a grandma.

Let me share with you my 10 commandments for the aging me!

1. I will never let my health issues and ailments be
my main topic of conversation, EVER!
2. I will be active everyday.
3. I will remember that I am not 30 or 40 anymore
so I won't hurt myself trying to act as if I am.
4. I will try not be become a burden to my children.
5. If I must become a burden to my children, I will do it with style and finesse.
6. I will learn to do something new everyday.
7. I will never lose my enthusiasm for experiencing new things
unless that new thing could put me in the hospital.
8. I will never use expressions like "in my day" or
"that's not the way we've always done it."
9. I will remember that wrinkles and lines really are a sign of experience and hopefully wisdom so I can be reminded to be grateful to be who I am, myself!
10. I will never let Jim wear black socks and dress shoes
with shorts and a tee shirt in public. (This commandment was initiated by Jim!)

Now in light of the above, it is my pleasure to share with you photos
that Darryl Morris has shared. While he is no longer the young man in the white jacket
that we see in our annuals, he definitely exemplifies the statement that "We are not getting older; We are getting better." Thank you Darryl for being brave enough to share with us in hopes that some of the others will do the same.

Here's "Papa" with granddaughter Louisa Claire Morris-Uebel. I'm wearing my typical "farmer's uniform." (I should get a big discount on haircuts, shouldn't I? )



And here's Sharon (on the right) with her sister and dearest friend Janell who died of cancer a year ago this past August.

















The daughters of Darryl and Sharon.The three sisters during an amusing
moment: L-R: Debbie, Nicki, and Sharyl.
The reunion was held at the Wellington VFW hall, thus all the stars and stripes.



Darryl refers to their home as a Little Slice of Paradise

The Meadowlands

Seven acres that offer,among other things, wonderful peace of mind.