On the Road to 80

I hope I look as good as my mother at her 80th birthday party

When my mother died on April 19, 2015, I was dealing with retirement, blogging for several sites, and contemplating (as Simon and Garfunkel sang) “how terribly strange to be 70.” I had been working on a book of essays which ultimately became Terribly Strange and Wonderfully Real. The book enabled me deal with the loss of my mother and fulfill her wish that I should write a book.

Now that I have entered the path that will lead me to my 80th birthday in September, 2025, I find myself on a new journey. I can’t believe how well I remember my mother’s party when she turned 80. She looked so beautiful. 

Then I think about the next decade of her life, which was challenging. She lived to be 91 and was relatively healthy and in sound mind until the end. But she also became a widow, moved into senior housing, broke her hip, and spent a lot of time doctoring. I remember her using white out to remove the names of family members and friends who had died from her address book. So, I have a preview of coming attractions.

Ten things I can expect more of on my journey to 80:

Doctoring: Getting through a week without at least one doctor appointment is rare. Seeing my internist for my annual physical fills me with dread. I know it will be followed by referrals to specialists. Coming up in the next week — bone density test, visit to the audiologist, and physical therapy. And that’s a pretty good week.

Blood work: Having to get a blood draw fills me with anxiety. First, I have really difficult veins to access, sometimes resulting in huge bruises after several attempts to find a good vein in the crook of my arm, in random spots between that area and my wrist, and on top of my hand. And my doctors order lots of blood tests. Then, I wait with dread as the results trickle in on my medical portal. I always see things that are outside of “normal” and now that I can also look at trends, I see things that look like a downward or upward progression. I’m left to worry about what this means for several days until the doctor calls or messages me.

Pills: Doctoring and blood work inevitably lead to more pills. I can’t believe how many I take these days. To keep track of the ones that are every other day or an extra one just on Mondays, I had to create a spreadsheet. When I travel, my meds take up too much room in my suitcase.

Falling: The greatest fear of folks my age. Look down, look ahead, watch your step -- it’s easier to sit in my recliner and read a good book. I was recently knocked over and had to beg people not to pull me up by my arm, which would dislocate my weary shoulder. A PT taught me an undignified but much safer way to get up. Get onto my hands and knees, crawl over to the closest piece of furniture, and slowly pull myself up. Or, if that fails, call 911. The paramedics are great at getting people back on their feet, into a chair, or on a gurney for a trip to the ER.

PT: Everybody I know goes to physical therapy. Doctors are quick to write orders, but many of my friends find PT less than helpful. Some have actually been hurt by inexperienced therapists. A good PT can be invaluable but is often hard to find one. And a series of PT visits can definitely fill my calendar.

The Pain Scale: This exercise for folks my age goes with PT and almost any treatment for what ails me, especially the pain doctor. Pick a number from 1 to 10 to rate your pain. But this is a trick question because Medicare uses what is a very subjective answer by me to decide if I get treatment and for how long. Generally, I have to say at least 6 to merit treatment. Medicare likes progress, so I have to remember to give lower numbers as therapy goes on.

Signs of Aging: My body now looks like a road map. The veins on my hands horrify my grandkids. My skin hangs –- maybe it’s time for CRÉPE ERASE? Age spots decorate my face and body. Best not to look too closely in the mirror.

Slowing down: My life definitely slowed down during the pandemic and never really picked up again. I see my friends and we go out with other couples, but rarely go to the movies or a live performance. Just out of the habit and it feels like more of a hassle. I’m perfectly content to visit with friends and do most of my shopping online. Retail therapy is a thing of the past.

Travel: Another aspect of life that didn’t really return after Covid. Luckily, we did a good amount of travel vacations prior to the pandemic. These days, air travel means navigating crowded airports, arranging for a wheel chair to get me to the gate on time, dealing with delays, and masking up because so many of my friends have caught Covid when traveling. Most of my travel these days consists of car trips to visit my family in Indiana and Michigan.

Memory: It’s those nouns that are becoming more challenging to retrieve. People’s names can take a bit of time to come to me. Places are often a case of knowing I’ve been there but not remembering what it was called. Things are sometimes referred to in a code my husband gets, as in “you know, the what-cha-ma-call-it.” After 55 years of marriage, he knows exactly what I mean.

We made Mom a huge party at my house for her 80th birthday. Family came from Detroit: my siblings, their spouses, and their kids, her sister, her brother and sister-in-law. All of my kids attended with their spouses and my infant granddaughters. We catered dinner, had cakes for her birthday, my parents’ 60th anniversary, and the new babies. All around it was a huge celebration of her life.

I wonder how we will celebrate my 80th birthday. I realize it will be impossible to do anything comparable to my mother’s birthday celebration, nor do I want a big party. My older daughter, the family planner, hopes all of my children and grandchildren can come together, but that’s highly unlikely. Longer distances to travel, busy lives, and different expectations. I will truly appreciate whatever celebration there is, but most of all, I will feel blessed to have reached this milestone.