17 March, 2014

Ungraceful Aging

Gang, I’m getting old.

Today, I had to buy a knee brace.  Because late last week I was doing squats (there’s a mental image for you to store in the ol’ “disturbing images” bank) and, without twisting or fancy poppin’ and lockin’, my knee, simply put, just started to hurt.  So there’s that. 

And last week at a doctor’s appointment, I was informed of a variety of things she found wrong with me.  Big surprise.  Doctor appointments can be uncomfortable as is, but add on “overweight” to your profile and the experience just gets worse. 

Oh, I’m fat?  I’m so glad you told me; I had no idea!  All this time I thought I was living amongst the malnourished and somehow I was spared.  (But seriously, am I right?  Stop pointing out the obvious.  And stop being "proud" of fat people you see exercising.  It's obnoxious and unappreciated, but that's for another day.)

Thank you Jesus hallelujer that my new doctor has taken an actual interest in my symptoms and is helping me find some answers.  As she sat across from me explaining all the horrible things wrong with me, I just sat there with a dumb smile on my face because I was just SO HAPPY that she had some answers.  Honestly, I didn’t really hear much of what she said until the very end when I caught this little snippet: “…and you’ll need to do this for the rest of your life.”


The rest.  Of.  My life.  Immediately I thought of Louis C.K.’s stand up where he was talking about how is doctor suggested some exercises to help with an injury and he was like, “How long do I do this for?”  The doctor says, “No, this is just what you do now.”

So, this is just what I do now.  I take piles of pills and supplements.  I wear knee braces.  At the ripe age of twenty-six, I feel old.

But you know what?  I’m so happy I get to feel old with this guy.

Always one step ahead of me in years, this man gets to forge the path and comfort my sensitive heart when I come home with new aches and pains and what not.  Thank God for this man.  Someday we’ll be wiping each other butts, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.


  1. All --horror-- stories told :) , you are a very lucky lady my love. And just think once you've lived twice as long as you've currently lived there'll still be a good twenty years of not wiping each other's butts.

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