It’s A Sign

A good decade ago, I belonged to a book club and the book that we were reading and discussing one month was Still Alice, which was focused on the subject of Early Onset Alzheimer’s disease.  We were all still in our thirties, but instead of discussing the book, someone had gotten a hold of psychological tests we could all take to make sure that we none of us were in the early stages of Alzheimer’s.  We all nervously scrambled, taking the test quickly and anxiously.  It’s a shame that we all wasted our time worrying, instead of enjoying the discussion about a really good book.  We all came out “normal.”

I laugh at my foolishness then, but as I approach 50, I find myself questioning whether I need to take that test again.  I read once that most people are as forgetful as they were in their 20s as they are in their 50s, its just that when you are in your 20s you don’t even question it.  In your 50s, you notice everything that you forget.  Lately, everything gets questioned as a sign of aging for me.

My right arm has been sore for a while.  Now, keep in mind that I type more than I ever have, I walk around with an 82 pound labrador who is mediocre at best, on a leash and my purse has so much stuff in it, I might as well be carrying around a bowling ball.  That being said, on a day that my arm was particularly sore, I started out believing that I might have a debilitating case of arthritis and because I had time to stoke my imagination, I soon started hyperventilating believing that I was having a heart attack.  Dr. Google is not my friend.

My body can’t do the things that it did in my 20s and 30s.  I have come to terms with that.  It’s just that with the self awareness that comes with aging, it’s less easy to brush things off.  A bad mood is all of the sudden a concerning menopausal hormonal imbalance or a desire for a new car becomes a midlife crisis.  Other people are forgiving of the foibles of aging people.  Maybe I should just take advantage of that fact and enjoy some forgiven kookiness that comes with the second half.  If I can let go of some of the anxiety, it could be quite freeing.