2011 heralded in my 50th Birthday year and I have to say I’m not terribly happy about it. Turning 50 means I’m more than half-way through my life and my childhood doesn’t seem that long ago.
For me turning 50 also means I’ve well and truly started to lose my youthful appearance. My eyes have started to look like bullet holes in a shattered pane of glass. The folds on each side of my mouth are drawing in towards my mouth. And my neck is taking on the appearance of a Shar-Pei dog.
Turning grey started when I was much younger so I’ve came to terms with that long ago. My stomach was ruined during pregnancy and child birth so that too I’ve learnt to live with. Losing weight has become impossible – not helped by my love of good wine. To make matters that much worse, so far this year I’ve had 5 x-rays, 2 scans, 4 blood test and soon I’ll have a hand operation – and it’s only April.
I’ve just been diagnosed with hyperparathoidism causing high blood pressure, headaches, stomach cramps, confusion and sleeplessness all easily fixed by an operation if they could only see which one of the little suckers are causing the problem.
Conversations with my age-like friends are starting to resemble a Dr’s conference for the old and decrepit. A disabled car sticker is surely around the corner.
They say that 50 is the new 40 and 40 is the new 30. So how come I feel about 60?
