Gary Chalk
My wife, Jan, and I recently hosted two couples we have been friends with for many years. When we picked the date, we agreed instead of our usual evening dinner get-togethers, to make it a lunch so our friends did not have to drive home in the dark. It’s called aging.
Aging was on full display as soon as our friends pulled into the driveway. One of the guys unknowingly impersonated me when he stepped out of the car: he stood for a good 30 seconds, saying, “I find myself having to stretch after a long drive.” I said, “Me too. I drive two blocks to the wine store and have to stretch beside the car before I go in.” It’s called aging.
Before lunch, we sat on our patio drinking watered-down white wine spritzers and non-alcohol beer. It’s called aging.
At lunch we chatted … about aging!
Everyone took turns describing their frequent visits with doctors: primary care physicians, specialists, therapists, and the health care system overall.
Among us we had three rotator cuff injuries, two or three hip replacements, and at least four cataract surgeries.
One of the guys was about to celebrate his one-year anniversary of a complete reversal shoulder replacement surgery, “I still can’t turn over in bed.” Another wore a wrist support from a recent broken wrist when he accidentally tripped, “When they set it for the cast it hurt like hell!”
When it came to me, I chose to talk about my wobbly knees. “I am having an injection. It may work; it may not. We’ll see.”
This prompted one to say, “I get cortisone injections, but not my knee, for my arm!”
Someone—by now I couldn’t possibly keep up with who had what health issues!—was having a bone mineral densitometry procedure to determine how brittle their bones are, which prompted another to chip in, “I had one. It was a snap.” (Wrong word!)
Broken ribs, we talked about them.
Dry eyes, we talked about them too!
By dessert, we were getting around to toenail fungus when my phone rang. “It’s Jeff, my doctor” I said as I went to take the call in the kitchen.
When I returned Jan asked, “Gary, what did he say? Was it the result of the ultrasound on your right shoulder? Or was it the date for your left knee injection? Did he provide an update on your appointment at the Musculoskeletal Intake and Assessment Center? What did he say?”
Five hours after our guests arrived, they departed—not enough time to delve into corns and calluses on our feet, warts, skin tags, age spots, thinning hair, no hair, hearing loss, dentures, liposuction, nasal strips, wrinkles, women’s saggy biceps, and friggin’ C-PAP machines. We will commiserate those maladies at our next get-together when we have more time: a weekend retreat!
Living Retired is written by humor columnist Gary Chalk.