Gunky and Funky

I'm getting pretty tired of the constant post-nasal drip that I have been dealing with for the last three weeks.  The sore throat comes and goes as well.  Then there's the general 'blech' feeling after taking various handfuls of pills throughout the day. The headaches have been less bothersome recently (crossing fingers here).

I have still not noticed any physical improvements yet.   However, I am still cautiously optimistic.  I appreciate the fact that it should take at least a full two months of antibiotic treatment to rid my body of the spirochetes.  I do not expect that their mere death with reverse all the damage that they have been the root cause of many annoying health issues.  The first things that I hope to notice is a reduction in my inflammation response and/or an increase in my general energy at that point or soon after.

I will probably modify my diet for a few weeks to something akin to a mild and gradual detox regimen, to help get any remaining Lyme toxins out of my system along with any crud leftover from taking strong antibiotics for a long period of time.  Late Fall and early Winter are not fabulous times for getting fresh fruits and vegetables.  However, some of the larger grocery stores do seem to have a good selection of fresh organic (carbon-heavy shipments from around the world) and frozen organic produce to pick from.  If I go off the antibiotics right after Thanksgiving, the timing will be challenging with all sorts of holiday food lying about.

My mood in the last week has been kind of funky.  I am mostly a positive person these days.  However, life's challenges do get to me eventually.  Dealing with chronic health issues is a big psychological burden of course.  Some personal challenges have also been eating at me this week (lingering financial challenges being caused by medical expenses, parenting doldrums watching my son drop out of college - perhaps for good, mediocre social life, feeling like my current home is an albatross in my life that I can't get rid of, feeling alone in all of it).

This week should be interesting.  I'm only working through Wednesday.  I've taken off Thursday and Friday to commemorate my 50th birthday.  I plan on getting a massage and generally pampering/indulging 'me' next weekend.  On Saturday I hope to meetup with some acquaintances/friends for lunch and arcade time in the earlier part of the day, and then a group of us are meeting up for a screening of "The Rocky Horror Picture Show".  Most of us are planning on dressing for the event, and we'll of course have props with us to interact with the flick.

While I will appreciate the company of the dozen or so people who will be sharing my birthday with me, none of them are 'close friends' or 'family'.  I find myself really missing having regular interaction with people that I feel a strong bond with.  I grew up an only child with a parent who had no real family ties of her own.  When I went to college and met some good friends, I felt like I was building my own kind of family.  Then I married into a family who seemed to embrace me wholeheartedly.    I also picked up a few good friends during the early part of my career.  I chose to move away from my college friends (and work buddies) for a number of reasons.After my divorce, my ex's family washed their hands of me.  The friends I have made since the move are a diverse and busy group of people who I see irregularly.  Good people, all, but we don't have as much invested in each other as my group of college friends and I do.  Part of me wants to move to be closer to some of the folks from that group.  But another part of me says that I should figure out a way to cultivate deeper friendships in the region that I want to continue to live in.

I think that 'big birthday' is adding to my funky mood.  I plan to post something just on my feelings about turning fifty later this week.    I'd love to know if anyone is reading this tale or if it's wholly an archival exercise never to viewed again.

My definition of 'old' keeps changing

When I was 18, I wasn't one of those youthful idiots who considered 40 to be 'old'. I did consider it to be middle-aged. Back then, I thought someone was 'old' when they were 60. Truthfully.

When I was in my mid-30's I started to redefine 'old' at around 70.

Now that I am over 45 (and minimum full retirement age is defined as 67) I still think 'old' is around 70, but more likely around 75.

Why the definition shift? Is it purely my own closure proximity to my original definition of 'old' (60)? I don't think so. I think it boils down to the age of my friends and others whom I am close to.

I have several friends who are in their early 60's. My in-laws are in their late 70's and they are quite active. How can I have friends and loved-ones who are 'old'?

Grendel cracked me up recently. I showed him a current picture of my father, who is in his mid-70's. Grendel looked at the picture and said, "Wow, he's old." I didn't bother pointing out to him that my father is the same age as his other grandparents, whom he visits with on a regular basis. I couldn't bear to hear him say that they were old too; though I wonder if he would really say that since they play tennis with him and go boating with him and are generally quite active.

I sometimes wonder if Grendel secretly thinks that his own parents are 'old'. I didn't start thinking of my mother as old until she was in her mid-60's, when she started kind of showing the initial signs of decrepitude.

Maybe my definition can be explained by the fact that none of my older friends and loved ones are showing signs of decrepitude, so I can't possibly think of them as 'old'.

Can you be 'old' without having signs of decline? I guess I hope so. I wouldn't mind getting 'old' as long as physical decline doesn't have to be part of the bargain.

Where does the time go?

Sundays are pretty busy for our family. Last year, Grendel started attending Sunday evening youth group at our church. Our church is about 25 minutes to the north of our house. Regular services end at 11:00. Grendel has mid-day tennis lessons 25 minutes to the south of our house. His youth meeting is at 18:00. Since two 50-minute round trips in one day is tiring enough, I almost never go to morning services any more.

Today, I decided to go to morning service since I hadn't been in several months, and I have off from work the next two days.

While waiting for the service to begin, my friend Y sat next to me. I knew I hadn't seen Y in a while, but I did not realize how long "a while" had been until I asked about her baby daughter, G. The last time I had seen G, she was only a few months old. Y told me that G is now three years old. My jaw literally dropped.

I know I only went to church a few times last year, but I attend a good deal of the social activities (since I co-chair the committee). I could have sworn that I just saw that little girl a year or so ago.

Is this a sign of age when your perspective of time gets totally whacked?

Death TV

With the current writers' strike, perhaps this idea will catch on in the United States. Germany's new network, Etos TV, is devoted to death and old age, the brainchild of the country's Association of Funeral Directors. In a country where nearly 800,000 people die every year, and by 2020 a third of the population will be retired, perhaps the group saw the opportunity to cater to an underserved market.

The programming will include obituaries that celebrate the lives of the recently deceased, as well as informational pieces on services related to aging and death.

Maybe AARP ought to considering sponsoring such a channel here in the U.S.?

Getting too old for concerts?

My husband picked up tickets for the Evanescence concert this evening. While I like the band well enough, I have a tough time enjoying a mid-week night out. I typically rise at 5 a.m. So staying out past 10 p.m. is a bit tiresome. On top of that basic math, I do have chronic insomnia, and the last couple of days have been pretty brutal on that front.

The concert was pretty good, though we left before the end by mutual agreement. My back was bothering me a lot, along with being exhausted. The food at the arena was crap. And the music was a wee bit loud (fortunately, I did have ear plugs).

Looking around at the crowd, I was more than a bit amused. A lot of the crowd were Goths. Most of the younger girls who weren't Goths were wearing their pants tight and virtually falling off their butts, which looked unflattering even on the most well proportioned of them. Then there was a whole cadre of girls wearing outlandishly short skirts with obscenely high heels or boots.

Boy do I sound like an old fuddy duddy.

We may go to another concert in March. This one appeals to old people like me: Van Hanlen. Maybe their show will be over by 10. After all, they're old like us.