1. When I was in my teens and twenties, I used to climb two steps at a time. I don’t remember when I started to climb the stairs one at a time. Now in mid sixties, due acute knee pain, I climb stairs putting both legs on each step.(Very slow :))
2. Fifteen years back I could enjoy very spicy food(which I like). But now my digestive system does not allow me. My low metabolic rate do not allow me to eat sweets. My age says “no sweets and no spicy foods! Only bland food now”. I obey my age :). And cooking bland food is very easy is it not?
3. Synthetic sarees are easy to maintain. I wore them until 15 years back. Now even looking at them makes me suffocated. Only cottons make me comfortable! I am happy that I am contributing something to hand loom (small scale)industry.
4. Now I can not afford to skip my evening walk and watch movies. But scenic beauty is some times more pleasurable than movie. Is it not?
5. In my teens I never bothered about the weather , I went out even in heavy downpour. Now I hesitate even if there is a slight drizzle. But watching people enjoying the rain is worth it.
6. Once upon a time I used to enjoy raw mango with salt and red chilli powder on it. But now even sight of sour oranges make my teeth sour. But there are so many other fruits to eat :)

Even though the above things are frustrating, I still enjoy many things. I cook for myself, I have no problem with sleep, I enjoy writing, and I enjoy interacting with young people. These are my gifts from God. :)

Personally

1.Sex: it’s become boring and dull. Repetitive. Still nice but nothing special. Brushing my teeth is as nice. I’m looking forward to my next wank as I’m fed up telling everyone on Quora that it’s harmless even though I haven’t done it for months because I can’t be bothered.

2. Sex: I’m no longer attractive to the people who could negate point 1.

3. Music, books and films aren’t as important to me. I love them all but they don’t affect me as they did. I can sing songs I learned 30 years ago word for word. I couldn’t sing a song I’ve heard today 30 times. I have no desire to study album covers and no longer know what my favourite singers look like.

4. It’s really awful knowing that you’re one step closer to death. When you’re young you can ignore it. In middle age your parents and people you know start dying. It’s frustrating knowing that it will happen to you sooner rather than later.

5. It’s extremely frustrating knowing that I will still be moaning about everything on this list in 5 years while complaining that I didn’t do anything in the last 5 years.

5 1/2 Nobody has done everything they wanted to. 9 or 900. There’s always something we should have, could have or have done and forgotten.

6. Standing up and / or sitting down become things you have to think about how to do.

Gravity becomes more noticeable.

7. Regrets. You know you shouldn’t regret anything. However, it still pisses you off knowing that you now know what you should have done. You regret not having regretted more in your youth. If you’d regretted more you wouldn’t have as much to regret now.

I regret saying that and apologise for repeating myself.

I'm 55, so it's safe to say I'm getting older. I've never was bothered by the passing of the years - and youth! But there are two things I never realized would bother me. First, children getting older. My son just turned 18, a d I still can't believe it! Those years passed so fast - much faster than I ever realized they would, and I wish I could revisit his younger years. The second thing that you never hear about is death - the death of loved ones. People you loved, who were a big part of your childhood, pass away, and you are reminded of your own advancing age. My aunts and uncles have all passed, and my father passed 5 years ago. I miss them, especially my grandmother and father. I have been an adult for quite some time, but when those you love who were the adults when you were a child, who to a greater or lesser extent were responsible for keeping you safe and happy, are gone, the cold, hard reality of adulthood slaps you in the face, and you realize that your “safety net” is gone. Even if you haven't needed that safety net for many years, when it is taken away, and you feel very “alone”.

Had a patient one day that had committed suicide in his mid 80’s. According to the note he left, his kids had died when they were relatively young (one in the service and one due to a car accident), his wife had died a couple of months before and his last remaining friend had died a couple of weeks before. He had no siblings or any family of any sort.

I could just feel the loneliness coming through the paper. He said that he wasn’t sure how to make new friends anymore because he had friends up until they had died. We ended up going to his funeral that was put on by a relative of his wife’s. For the hour that we were there not one other person showed up. It was just a family member that didn’t really know him that well and four of us from the fire department that never knew him until he died, standing there making small talk.

I guess I’ll go with…how to handle being the last of a group to survive.

EDIT…thanks for all of the upvotes, shares and most importantly the comments. Some of the conversations that have been started here have been awesome. People detailing how that doesn’t have to happen anymore and such and a few people reaching out to others. You guys and gals are great!

Besides the body aches and pains that everyone else has already covered, I’ll add this:

I find myself, more and more as the years go by, disappointed in how far askew the younger generation’s goals and desires are from my own goals and desires when I was their age.

Yes, I know I sound like the stereotypical old man, shaking his cane on his front lawn at the teen boys with long hair… I get it. 25 years ago, people were saying the same things about my generation. It’s a cycle.

I understand why they said it now.

I also understand why, as she realized the end was near for her, my grandmother actually looked forward to leaving this world. She didn’t understand the culture anymore. Everything she saw in the news and on TV and in the movies, and even out in public, was just so disappointing to her. Her body was failing her, she’d been a widow for 20 years, two of her four children died before her, and she was a devout Catholic who very much believed in Heaven, so she wasn’t worried about death. She was looking forward to it, when her time came. The changes in society and culture just gave her one more reason to look forward to her exit.

Back when I was a teen, just 25 years ago, middle-aged and older people thought that the music I was listening to (Marilyn Manson, NIN, etc…) and the video games I played (Mortal Kombat, Wolfenstein), were the end results of cultural rot that started with the Hippies a generation before. Now, as I’ve gotten older and put aside those things, I can see why they’d think that. The difference between now and when I was a teen, it seems to me, is that I was very much aware that I was going through a phase and one day I’d grow out of it. I looked forward to having a traditional lifestyle some day.

Today, I rarely hear teens show any desire to have anything I’d consider a normal adult life. Yes, I know, even that word—normal—triggers teens these days. Every year, I ask my students what they want to do when they grow up. It’s part of our unit on vocations. And, every year since I’ve been teaching, the number one answer, by far, is: “I don’t know, I just want to be rich. So whatever makes a lot of money.”

I’ve overheard my oldest daughter and her friends discuss their post-college plans. They all say they want to get married, for a few years, get divorced, travel the world, be single in their 40s, date both guys and girls, just to try it out, even if they aren’t bi, and never, under any circumstances, do they want to have children. Ever.

They actually show an open contempt for anything that connotes permanence or settling down. They want careers that will allow them to jump from company to company. They don’t want to own a normal house. That’s too much of a commitment. They want something temporary, like an apartment, or something small, like a tiny house on wheels. A house that doesn’t move, with a mortgage that lasts more than a year? No thanks.

They see marriages as temporary things. They don’t see the role a marriage plays in raising a family. To them, those are two separate things: being married and raising children. And they don’t want children.

Hell, they even shy away from 2-year cell phone contracts.

In my late teens and early 20s, I moved almost every year. I switched jobs a lot too. And I hated it each time. I just wanted something permanent. That was one of my favorite things about buying a house… the idea that I’d be here for more than just one year.

My wife and I have been talking about moving to the suburbs a lot lately, and we’ll probably do it in a few years. In my mind, I’m thinking… “But we just moved in here!” Really, we’ve been here a decade already.

When I was a teen, I wanted a permanent relationship. I wanted a life-long career with the same company. I wanted a house. I wanted kids. I wanted to be “that guy” who retired from his place of employment with a nice farewell party after 35 years of service, and spent his retirement babysitting his multiple grandchildren in the same house where he raised their parents.

And right now, half of the teens on Quora read that last paragraph and shuddered. It sounds like a nightmare for them.

I may repeat some of the things already written here, but I’d still like to add my own thoughts.

For me the most frustrating thing about getting older is the feeling of being invisible and vulnerable. I didn’t plan well for retirement, and while I have enough money to live somewhat comfortably, I wish I had more just to travel and play with. I vacillate between going back to work and not working. I remarried at 59 and helped raise 8-year-old twin boys who lived with us. Their father who was seven years younger than me died while they were juniors in high school. I found that the parents of their friends, while polite, never quite bonded with us since we were so much older.

I decided to do volunteer work after they graduated from high school, but I hated working with all the other “old” people (some of whom were younger than me). I worked part-time with an agency who placed me in the volunteer department where I was already volunteering for about a year and a half and then I went to work full time at age 71, commuting 30 miles each way.

I loved being with younger people. My position was an administrative assistant with a state agency that investigated abuse and exploitation of elderly people. Until I worked with this agency, I had no idea how prolific elder abuse was. Our state has an elder hotline to report abuse of those over 65 and the disabled between ages 18–64. These people are abused by family members, caretakers or even themselves. They are scammed out of their money - sometimes hundreds of thousands of dollars - some scammed by phone and some by caretakers or other family members. “Reporters” include banks, police officers, firefighters, neighbors or various family members. I had access to home visit reports, it was incredibly sad; and many of these older people were younger than me. There was one lady who was being scammed by phone, our caseworkers would get her a new number, and she would actually turn around and call the scammers back! And it started all over again. Hoarding was prolific.

I found that while I loved the job, I really didn’t have enough to do, I didn’t like getting up at 5:30 a.m. then not getting home until after 6 or 7 p.m. So after a year I quit. I had worked long enough to pick up my previous years working with the state and became vested and was able to receive a pension.

I enjoy not working, I enjoy staying up at night as long as I please (not having to be somewhere in the morning or getting out in fog, rain or ice or snow), but I miss being around people during the day. I enjoy traveling but don’t especially care for driving or flying by myself - though I do both.

As a previous poster stated, it IS hard for older people to get jobs. It took me a couple of years. While many companies have policies against age discrimination, it still exists. I’m sure that the human resources departments are wanting to hire people that they think will “fit in.” I was told by a few people that I’d have better luck if I dyed my hair. I refuse to do that because I actually love my silver hair. What they don’t realize is that older people can fit in. I did. In fact, I still have lunch with people from my last position - most of whom were 30–35 years younger than me.

(I have to tell a funny story here - we were standing around talking about “homeless people” who hung around the square - where our office was located - and I mentioned the little old lady who used to wear purple and walked the square every day cursing everyone who passed by. My boss said he didn’t remember. I told him, “yeah remember? she would sit on the curb with her legs out in the street all the time - it was back in the 70s.” He replied to me, “Noella, I wasn’t even BORN in the 70s!” It was then that the realization that I was older really hit home!)

My biggest frustration though is it’s hard to find my 50s-60s (moldy-oldies) music, I miss movies that tell a story, I’m not crazy about gore on TV or movies. I don’t understand why people want to change their sex or marry others of the same sex (I just try to stay out of all that and I would never be mean to them), I don’t understand how many of today’s parents are so disengaged from their children, or on the other hand, that they put their children above their spouses, I don’t understand why so many have been on welfare for generations. I don’t understand the lack of respect today. It frustrates me that news reporters have been replaced with news analysts.

Don’t get me wrong - there are a LOT of really nice and responsible, respectful people of all generations out there and I love that.

At age 73, I love that I’ve been blessed to live long enough to take advantage of new technology and consider myself very computer literate - though I bought my first smart phone only a year ago - and I use most of the apps and have downloaded more. When I was a child, I’d pick up the phone and tell the operator that I wanted #33 (my dad at the train depot), then we had party-lines where we listened for our “ring” (one short, two long). I love that I can pick up my smart phone and facetime with my granddaughter thousands of miles away. I can use GPS when I’m driving and don’t have to struggle with a map. I can use my airline app at the airport rather than worry about printing out a boarding pass. I can use iBotta to save money on my groceries. I don’t have to carry a bulky camera everywhere to get a pic. My phone can alert me of a tornado warning. My “library” is right there in my pocket or purse through Safari or Google. I love that I can put my Bluetooth in my ear and tell Siri to call my sister while I’m driving or cooking. I love that I can communicate with people around the world and meet new friends from all cultures. I can see them through Messenger or Skype. I learned to type on a manual typewriter in high school and computers were big bulky machines that filled a whole room. Now I have a laptop sitting on my desk and another smaller one that I take when I fly (because it’s so much lighter in weight). I grew up with one to three television stations. In the ‘60s, indpendent stations were added. Now there are 100s of TV stations; yet while I still don’t have a smart TV, my favorite thing to do in the evening is to binge watch Netflix series through my Roku stick.

I love that medicine has come so far. When I was a child the biggest fear was polio and smallpox. Even when I was young, I shuddered to see pictures of children in iron lungs. Thankfully, both have been eradicated. Organ transplants have saved thousands of lives as have flu vaccines.

So while there are a few things that frustrate me as an older person, there are MORE for which I am so very thankful.

This isn't huge, but nobody talks about it.

I was on an escalator the other day. There was a little old lady also on the escalator. As we got to the next floor, I stepped up beside the lady. I held my arm out in case she lost her balance while getting off the escalator. Then I realized I wasn't absolutely confident I could keep two people upright if the lady lost her balance.

There were no incidents on the escalator, but I realized I now have to be more selective about when and how I take on that role of protector.

People who are still young, please develop the habit of looking out for people who might need a couple seconds of assistance.

Lots of good answers here already.

I’m just about to turn 60 soon…..

One thing the is frustrating is being marginalized.

You start realizing that the older you get, the less you matter in the eyes of the younger people, society and businesses.

You don’t have much power or input at work, your skills are getting behind, your stamina isn’t where it was, and you find you don’t want to work more than your usual 8 hour day, because after all you aren’t trying to impress your boss or move up in the ranks or get promoted.

Movies are made for teenagers and college ages quite often. Movies are often not made with older people in mind. Basically because most of the revenue comes from younger people. They go to movies while older people less so.

Also, a lot of your peers, people around your age, and old classmates are getting sick and/or dying. Your first thoughts when reading about someone your age or younger is “wow, they were young” then realizing that you are older and it could happen to you.

You start thinking in terms of thinking of what things you haven’t completed (paying off your debt, finishing that project in your house) just in case you drop over dead sometime in the near future.

I start thinking in terms of how long things take to happen. Plant an Oak tree on my property? Hmmm that will take 20–30 years to grow to decent size. Maybe I should plant something faster growing……

To be fair, when I was 16 years old I really believed I wouldn’t live to be 30. Not exactly sure why. Maybe because I couldn’t comprehend being that old (Hah!).

I’m only 40, but there’s something I’ve had to come to terms with as I’ve moved into middle age that I don’t remember anyone warning me about:

The slow realization that I am no longer the target demographic for pop culture.

Sometimes, for fun, I go on to celebrity news sites like TMZ and see how many stories I have to scroll past until I come to one about a celebrity I’ve actually heard of. I consider it a good day if I know a single “celebrity” in the top five stories.

While Halloween costume shopping with my kids this year, there were a solid 25% of costumes that were apparently of celebrities or video game characters who were completely unknown to me.

I work with young people all day, and I have children of my own, so I know that internet celebrities are a big thing right now. The thing is… I don’t know any of them. My son watches someone named “Mr. Beast” on YouTube. That man… I’m assuming it’s a man… could be standing in front of me right now, and I’d have no idea.

I’ve had to ask my students to identify the celebrities they write about, if they are in fact celebrities. There have been a few times when I thought they were just talking about family members or friends, because I didn’t recognize the names.

Me: Is Lauren Gray your sister?

Them: No, idiot. She’s the most famous Tiktoker in the world! (Okay… they don’t actually call me “idiot” to my face.)

I imagine this is how my parents felt when I started listening to bands like Nine Inch Nails or Tool, or got into video games and started name-dropping video game characters that they’d never heard of. It’s a sense of being left behind, but also being perfectly okay with that, because you get glimpses of where the pop culture bus is heading, and you don’t like it.

Starting in my mid-20s, I began having to look backwards in time for new music that I liked. Nowadays, when I’m in the mood for something “new,” I go to the vinyl record store and get some vintage records from the 60s and 70s, and listen to songs that are new to me, but really older than me. That’s how I’ve discovered that I like a lot of Fleetwood Mac, Doobie Brothers, and CCR’s B-sides and not-big-hits-but-still-good songs.

For me, its a double edged blade. Death isn't the scariest thing. Honestly, the most peaceful, yet concerning thing is watching your body change. The consiousness is aware of it, but since it is eternal, you kind of watch your body age and fall apart. You also become blithely aware that your mind is simply the control room for the body. Especially if you end up with any type of neural malfunction. One worries what it may be like to have Alzheimer's, or something like it? Is the person inside that malfunctioning mind fully aware of the malfunction, but can't express it the way they'd like? Are coma patients just trapped inside a brain whose conscious capacities just are failing to function?

Ironically, in these ideas, I believe death would be a friend… therefore, death and dying isn't the greatest worry of growing old.

I've also observed from others that the prospect of not getting to do all that they want with this life is scarier than getting old. They fear going from this life with things unfinished, or not corrected. This is not a fear that I hold. One cannot possibly do everything they desire in life. There's just not enough of us to go around, and tens of thousands of wonderful things to experience here.

My best advice? Watch your body age with a scientific fascination, enjoy the things you get to do, laugh often, and don't sweat dirty socks on the floor. You will wash them eventually. You won't remember it, but you will remember the moment you elect to go live life instead of worrying about socks.

The recognition that you are adulting.

It happens so insidiously. Wind the clock back several years. You’re a teenager living with your parents. Depending on your environment and your parents’ disciplinary philosophies, maybe you make it out and raise hell from time to time in your mid-to-late teens. You can’t wait until one day…

Fast forward a few years. You move out. Maybe you go to college, maybe you just get an apartment with some friends from work. But you are now free. Raising hell is the norm, not the exception. You indulge in whatever it is you feel like indulging in: video games, late night movies, illicit substances, an… ahem… overnight companion, etc. Or maybe it’s more innocent, but no less liberating: board games played until the wee hours, or just reading your damn book in peace without having to wake up when the rest of the house does. You are your own person.

Sure, you have some responsibility. Maybe it’s school, maybe it’s work. But even if it’s work, it’s not like it’s a career. The reason you go to work is equal parts to socialize, and to make money to fund other socializing.

Fast forward a few years.

You’ve graduated from college (or, if you didn’t go to college, you are now promoted to management or equivalent). You now have an entry level job that doesn’t pay much, but pays enough for you to really cut loose. You upgrade your life a little — maybe that means buying a nicer / nice car, or renting an apartment without a roommate. (Or if you live in NYC, the Bay Area, or other major metro area, you rent an apartment with fewer roommates.)

New Years Eve this year is going to be amazing. You decide to spend it in Las Vegas. Because you and your old friends from college can now afford to fly in Vegas. You and your significant other (… oh yeah, you have one of those now…) can even afford your own room, so you don’t have to sleep 8-to-a-studio like you did on that one road trip back in school.

It’s nice to see all your friends again. You looked forward to partying, but you wake up with a sore throat from shouting all night. Did the music really have to be so loud? After that first night, you pump the brakes and skip the club in favor of a show. You really liked Cirque du Soleil. Whatever, it was the best trip ever. Totally doing it again next year.

The following year, you back out of the Vegas trip because you’re swamped at work. Rain check. The year after that, nobody even initiates the plans.

Your friends start having kids. Totally weird. But whatever, you and your spouse (… oh yeah, you got married…) are still young and awesome.

…

Whew, what a week! As you wrap up and head home from the office on Friday night, you can’t believe your good fortune. This weekend, your fantasy is going to come true. You and your spouse have been talking about your bedroom plans all week.

That’s right, finally your schedules have both cleared enough that you’re going to sleep in this weekend! It’s going to be stupendous.

Suddenly, you become self-aware how excited you are to just sleep in. You don’t know exactly when you started adulting, but…. damn it, it’s here. Might as well just guy buy a cardigan and subscribe to the Wall Street Journal.

Pain in various body parts and joints you never paid much attention, if any, to when young(er) - especially osteo-arthritis in the knees, hips, hands. I always took my body for granted when younger, but once you are old, you realize that this is a very naive, careless attitude.

The realization that the world belongs to those who are young and young-ish, and the strong feeling that one is completely redundant, surplus to requirements - indeed, politicians often make one feel that one is a heavy burden on society and ought to have the grace to just die rather than keep drawing one’s pension and require medical care.

The strong feeling that the world has moved on and left you behind …

The pace of change is ever accelerating and the world is now an utterly different place to the one you grew up in and lived in when young.

The knowledge that most things are now too late. I shall never do x or y or z . I shall never see India, never see Russia, never see Israel as I am just too weary to travel. Foreign travel is very tiring and I feel depleted.

I will never complete most of my projects now. All my half-finished embroideries, the patchwork quilts I have been hoarding textiles for - none of it will be done.

I will never see my garden in its mature state. The next owner of my house will almost certainly rip out all my roses, trees, shrubs, and pave over the entire area, or cover it in shingle or crushed slate, or whatever happens to be fashionable by then.

Many of my friends from way back have died, and it is not easy to make new friends once you reach a certain age.

The knowledge that all my treasured possessions will end up in a skip or in charity shops - some maybe at an auction. All my family photos will just end up in a landfill as I have no children, nieces or nephews.

Everything I did, everything I accomplished, everything I hoped for, dreamed of - it will all be as nothing.

Getting up and getting vertical.

Suddenly everything below the waistline wants to move even further southwards.

I was fine lying in bed but then gravity takes over.

The bathroom needs to be within 3 yards unless I could be an Olympic sprinter.

Everything takes so long now.

I remember at age 20 I had a job during my Summer holidays at a local factory and I had to be there at 8:00 am. Given transit time and other factors I could be out of bed at 7:28 am and in my car and barreling off down the road in two minutes flat.

Now it takes me about one-and-a-half hours just to reach the kitchen and have breakfast. I still seem to be moving as fast but time has collapsed.

I am like one of the crew on the Star ship Enterprise going at Warp Factor 9

Time is shooting past though and leaving me behind.

Health is now number-one priority and I could just live on the pills I take for various conditions and just have the odd glass of water to wash them down.

Everyone thinks you are stupid, I had thought this was just young people until recently but then discovered that even people my own age and older also thought that, which was a bit surprising.

The fact you have been on the planet for a while and might have learned something is not worth anything.

There is also a lot of propaganda particularly in the UK about the National Health Service being compromised by “Bed Blocking”. That is old folks clogging up vital beds for young folks needing treatment because they are too lazy or ill to go home and die.

My suspicion is that “Logans Run” will become a reality in the not-too-distant future.

So watch out, oldies.

There are many things that change as you get older. For me, what has changed the most has been the slowing down of my body. I just cannot move as fast and as easily as when I was younger. Auto-immune diseases pasted from one generation to me. The ways we were eating wrong in the sixties and seventies, eighties, is now catching up to me. I will be 68 very soon, and I am amazed how my sixties have really slowed me down. How much my health has deteriorated from decades of caregiving for others, and having little time to care for myself.

The other thing that has been really the hardest is the losses in my life. My husband, (and my youngest son, second marriage husband is gone), my oldest son, my father is now gone. I oversee my elderly mother’s care at a Memory care home. She is in the middle stages of dementia. So I am losing her as well. Two sisters never talk to me. They are very conservative verses my more moderate/liberal lifestyle. All the rest of my children live on the other side of the country. My closest friends now live in other states too. Those I still have here to love live in different states, including a couple of cousins. I do live with my youngest son, so I am not entirely alone. Social media definitely helps, but I really have no friends where I live. That has been the hardest too.

At 53, suddenly my elastin lost its elasticity, and the hemorrhoids I’d acquired as a teen from this disaster Emily Fisher's answer to Have you ever been in a situation where you thought you might die? What happened and what did you do? What did you learn as a result? removed themselves from decades of invisibility and jumped to the forefront.

At the same time, the skin on my upper legs suddenly took to slipping down over my knees when standing, and my baby tight labia turned into drooping wizard sleeves.

All this occurred practically overnight. Then at 60, I was hit by another wave of elastin loss, this time in my face.

It feels as though I don’t really give a fuck because old age also ushered in a total lack of vanity. But it’s possible I’m kidding myself, that my lack of caring is really due to no longer being able to see a fucking thing.

A few years ago, when Cora Belle was still alive, I had a visitor here for a week.

On his last night, as we smoked up on my bedroom deck's glider, I sat the bong between my legs for a moment, to gesticulate, and the next thing I knew it had tipped over and its entire liquid contents emptied, I swear to Baby Cheeses, all the way deep inside my sadly gaping hole.

I now know it is not just the drooping ugliness of wizard-sleeved labia that awaits us, but the dangers of an unprotected hole, into which anything at all may enter at will -- oh, the horrors!

But I stopped thinking of that soon after, when I struck a match and the lit end of it flew off and hit me in the eye, the fourth freakish eye incident I'd had in a month, all due to my eyes' version of wizard sleeves.

My $1,000 glasses are pretty much useless for seeing any more; I speculate at distances, and remove them for anything up close. (And if I look down, they fall off.)

1) In trying to open yet one more item with useless, wizard-sleeved arthritic fingers, my glasses were removed for better viewing, when suddenly, the top flew off and liquid enzymes designed to neutralize dog pee shot into both my eyes.

2) Again, with glasses off and eyes too close, to see what the fuck I was doing, Cora Belle's aromatherapy oil blasted my right eye.

3) I was even wearing my damn glasses when a long pointed shaft of a squirrel-butchered cactus jabbed my actual eyeball, with Vicente looking on.

4) And finally, that damn airborne lit cinder which, had my reflexes been less quick, would have blinded me. I know this because I felt my eye snap shut just as it hit, the pain made me think it'd hit my eyeball, but it turned out to have burned only both lid rims, where they'd snapped shut, and scorched off both the upper and lower lashes.

And now, I few years later, it turns out I have cataracts. So oy.

Truth is, though, being an obsessed writer since I was about 5 years old, always using a special pen I gripped with my life, pushing into the page as though trying to make a new hole in a belt, gave me arthritic fingers long before the onset of what could be considered old age.

But increasing herbal knowledge has helped them not get much worse over the decades.

More importantly, at 21 I went from being a major athlete to being in a car accident that gifted me with a bad back for 30 years, an old lady long before my time.

But 13 years ago I had surgery that fixed my back, and I’ve never had an issue with it again. So at an age when many people’s backs are beginning to give out, mine feels nice and strong.

Yes, I’ve had a debilitating nerve condition for 2 1/2 years now, but I think that’s due to bad luck rather than age.

In general, my symptoms of old age are all about looks, and I honestly can’t get myself to care about that.

UPDATE: December, 1, 2019 — I now need both cataract surgery and a hip replacement, so there’s that.

It depends on what your priorities are and on your particular situation. For me as a 70 year old with no children and no family the worst part is knowing that if I drop dead nobody will know and that puts my puppy at risk, so I have to find a way around that. No doubt I will have to pay for some service.

One of the major irritations about old age is that you are treated as if you are an idiot. I am tired of having to remind people, including doctors, that 70 is my age, not my IQ! Another irritation is that you become invisible, people push past you as if you are not there, getting served becomes a problem.