I’ve had a middle-age crisis recently – actually middle-age crises (don’t ask me how long it took to figure out the plural of crisis).
Anyway, the end result of it all is that I think I’ve actually come to terms with the fact that I am, perhaps, approaching Middle Age.
When this horrible thought first raised it’s unsettling head a few months ago, I was aghast: someone with whom I graduated high school, (and therefore was the same age), mentioned on Facebook that he was still in pretty good shape, considering he was middle-aged.
I read that comment and was immediately taken aback. I wasn’t middle-aged, was I? Middle-aged, to me, was a graying, heavy-set woman wearing Mom jeans and glasses with kids in college and a mortgage to pay. I’m a blonde! (And I’m sticking with that statement, no matter what my hairdresser says!)
Could I really be middle-aged? Of course my family was no help. And I quote my husband here, “What, you think you’re going to live to be 100? Of course you’re middle aged!”
According to Wikipedia, middle age is the period of age “beyond young adulthood but before the onset of old age; usually considered to occur between the ages of 40 and 60.” No help there.
They go further by explaining what middle age looks like: “Middle-aged adults often show visible signs of aging such as loss of skin elasticity and graying of the hair. Physical fitness usually wanes, with a 10-20 lb accumulation of body fat; strength and flexibility also decrease.”
Sounds fun, doesn’t it? Is it any wonder I am in denial?
Just to drill the nail into the coffin, I had a conversation with my sister the other night that I can clearly remember my Grandmother having with her sister.
“How did you make out today with your Doctor’s appointments?”
Really, we’re discussing doctor’s appointments?
I take full responsibility for this. Recently, I have decided to take better care of my health (remember that whole yoga kick I was on) and I made a few appointments with various doctor’s for some over-due check-ups.
In the past, I breezed through these and was on my way with barely a backward glance. Imagine my surprise when this time, I received not one but two callbacks saying they wanted to do some further tests, “just to be safe.”
Thankfully, everything came back okay, but it has been a stressful few weeks. I have spent more time in waiting rooms and doctor’s offices getting poked, pinched and prodded than I care to anytime in the near future.
Hence, the previously mentioned phone call!
What have I learned from all this? Wear suntan lotion on all parts of your body; stay up-to-date with your mammograms, and never look up the word “middle age” on Wikipedia!
So yes, I guess I am middle-aged. There, I said it. (And I mean it, I think!)
But that doesn’t mean I’m still not aiming for 100!