Wasting Away

I dread getting older. I think I wouldn't mind BEING old, say, in my middle 60's. Upper 60's. Isn't it funny how the older you get your definition of old changes a bit. In college 48 was way old and now that I'm 48 (or will be next week) the middle 60's don't seen all that old. I'm sure that in a year or two the upper 60's will be full of spring chickens. Anyway, it's not the being old, it's the getting old. I mean, If we have to get there, being old that is, wouldn't you like Genie to blink her eyes and your magically 67 and enjoying the golden years?. Yes, I'm odd and it's ok if you stop reading now.

I have an abdominal strain I'm dealing with this week. A pulled muscle of some sort, according to Dr. Google. He's great isn't he? I don't know what I did, it just started hurting. Very sharp pains and spasms in my gut. I know it wasn't anything I ate as I've not strayed out of the 2 basic food groups. Doughnuts and cupcakes. But man! The pain is sharp and I almost double over. My wife said now I know what menstrual cramps are like. I'm sorry for every joke I ever told about that....

The thing about getting older is that this stuff happens more often. I said the other day that in the last 6 weeks I had a groin pull, threw out my back, developed tendinitis in my foot and now this abdominal thingy. Yikes! soon I'll be gaining weight and my hair will start  falling out. Wait.... . That's what I mean. If I could skip this getting older part and just be there.

Men are big and strong and can handle anything. Until they get sick. I'd say they act like a woman but have you seen a woman who is sick? She doesn't just quit, she just keeps going and getting it done. Me? Not so much. I whine and moan and am such a 3 year old. I guess I'm like that on a good day just more so when I don't feel well.

So I'm bent over yesterday in pain and I'm sure it's can't be a muscle pull. It HAS to be liver failure or pancreatic cancer right? This is where my mind goes every time. I'm gonna die. Tragically and before my time. sigh...

I thought about my last few months of life. What would I do if I knew I'd be gone in 6 months? I'd lament things the mistakes and missed opportunities of course. Then I'd do the things with my family I should have done more of, fishing and bowling, board games and walks in the park. Look my wife in the eyes and tell her I love her. I was in some guy's yard while thinking this. It must have been a sight for passer by seeing this burly (ok,fat) guy with a tool belt weeping in the front yard. It wasn't stomach pain.

I'm not gonna die in 6 months. At least according to Dr. Google. But I will be busy. Busy living this getting older process and doing the things I needed to be doing all along. Doing them well and not wasting the days. It's never too late. I hope....