'Not for Cissies!

I think everyone over 65 knows that Benjamin Franklin - in 1789- said Death and Taxes were the only two certainties in life.

We all cope with old age in a different way.   My way is to get on with it to the best of my ability.   I have so many bits that may be wearing out and maybe need a bit of a mend but in metaphorical terms my hands are too shaky to thread a darning needle so very little 'mending' can be done.   The only thing I am managing to do is to keep two things in check for as long as I can - brain power and attitude. 

Brain power fluctuates a bit from day to day.   Some days I sail through the Crossword without a hiccup.   Other days I cannot really get a good start and as other Crossword fanatics will confirm - if that happens the crossword is not going to get finished even if one sits with a dictionary and a thesaurus on one's knee all  day (plus a magnifying glass for the small print).

I put that sort of beginning to the day down to the particular compiler for the day.   It's not me   - it's him (always a good get-out). 

Attitude - now that is quite a different  matter. 

Here are a few rules (for me at any rate):

Have a good comfy chair and place it near a window (and hopefully a radiator too judging by this morning's temperature).

Your view might be distant hills, your back garden, the outside street where there's plenty going on all day, the bird table (keep a bird book handy).

Develop the art of being nosey.  Folk expect old people to be nosey so prove their point.   Dogs, clothes, who's walking with who (wonder where they are off to) or (wonder if his wife know's).

Have a few handy snacks near at hand (two finger kit-kats are delicious especially with a good strong black coffee( or if it is a  particularly chilly morning drinking chocolate enhances the 'choccy feeling). 

A good book, the Radio Times and nearby controls for radio, television and any other gadgets  ( no day is complete for me without at least two renderings of Christy Moore's 'Ride On'  at the flick of a switch) - incidentally Christy Moore is in his late seventies now - wonder how he's coping with old age).

A walk every hour at least - round the garden on a nice day, along the road a short way - if anybody's putting the front garden to bed as you pass - there's a good opportunity for a chat about their garden; the bathroom - almost always a necessity to us oldies - once an hour does no harm at all.   Sticks, trolleys on wheels, Zimmer frames - I find it helps to give them names - my Rollator sounds much better called Priscilla - and my (hated) Zimmer frame never sounds so bad if I call it 'Zim'.

This post was sparked off by a lovely couple of paragraphs in The Times about Billy Connolly's attitude - told he had Prostate Cancer and Parkinson's on the same day).

He is obviously jollying himself along - talks of the ten years since his diagnosis and how he has adapted to being dressed each morning by his wife, forgetting the name of his dog sometimes and having to call him "Here Doggy, Doggy" -  I love the way he speaks of his dog.   He says he feels genuinely embarrassed for his dog when it happens, saying "you could tell it knew".   He says, "I can laugh myself out of most things".

I have just had a long visit from a lady in our Medical Practice team and have now had the 'Red Folder' delivered - and put into a prominent place on the welsh dresser in the hall (handy for the ambulance man (do not resuscitate in large letters)) but pretty useless for the undertaker as obviously it is too late.

And Billy has this to say about death.   Where to end up?   He favours burial on an island in Loch Lomond.   No gravestone - just a picnic table for fishermen to picnic on.  ('you're standing on my balls' in tiny wee writing written somewhere on it).  That's the spirit Billy - laughing to the very end - let's all try to emulate that eh?