The Weirdness of Being OLD
May. 21st, 2026 09:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mallorys_cameraTemperatures dropped back to seasonal norms last night. Thank the Lord! Because I was able to sleep, deeply, lavishly, and because the swelling in my feet went away.
That's right! Swelling in my feet.
Oh, the weirdness of being old!
For the past couple of days, in the 90°+ temperatures, my feet had mild edema! My toes felt like little sausages in casings that were a tad too tight.
And this was upsetting because pedal edema is a symptom of congestive heart failure, and I wondered, How can I have congestive heart failure? I just had a perfectly normal EKG at the cardiologist's three months ago!
As I've said many times, I don't mind dying (I think), but I do mind a long, drawn-out process in which one by one, the systems falter.
###
Anyway, because of the heat and worries that my health was collapsing in a new, completely unexpected way, I did not have a good day yesterday. All day long, I kept applying the tips of my fingers to my ankles to time the fractional discoloration. Are they gonna have to replace my mitral valve? I wondered. How long have I got?
Irrational panic is not good for productivity.
Forced myself out for retail therapy. I actually don't like to shop, so I don't know why I thought retail therapy would improve my mood—maybe because it seems to work for everyone else? Dunno.
Went to the Ulster County version of a Deep Discounter I had frequented in Dutchess County, and that, even though I don't like to shop, had surprised me pleasantly in the past with the abundance of its reasonably priced hyaluronic acid face creams and surprisingly attractive leggings.
Place is ug-lee! Hideous overhead fluorescents. Wares crammed onto warehouse shelves with no effort at making stuff pretty. The employees, chatting with one another beside their mops and pails, didn't move out of the way for customers, and I got stalked by a guy in a wheelchair!
Left in a quasi-panic. Raced back to the casa and applied a full face of makeup, even foundation, which is something I have not done in months.
Throughout most of my life, I've been one of those people who look very, very different with and without makeup. Without makeup: typical Southern Italian features, very gaunt, big nose, cranial caverns. With makeup: a veritable Sophia Loren, exotic, exquisite, lovely!
This duality stayed with me most of my life.
But it kind of petered out last year.
Now, with makeup or without makeup, I just look like an old lady.
Aging! Not easy. I mean, sure, easy, in that all you have to do to achieve it is to remain Not Dead. But all the mental adjustments involved in accepting your new limitations? Very, very difficult.
###
Still reading Elizabeth Strout. Lucy Barton picks up toward the middle, though the ending falls apart. Now I'm on to Anything Is Possible. Elizabeth Strout has written a lot of books, so my reading is set till June.
That's right! Swelling in my feet.
Oh, the weirdness of being old!
For the past couple of days, in the 90°+ temperatures, my feet had mild edema! My toes felt like little sausages in casings that were a tad too tight.
And this was upsetting because pedal edema is a symptom of congestive heart failure, and I wondered, How can I have congestive heart failure? I just had a perfectly normal EKG at the cardiologist's three months ago!
As I've said many times, I don't mind dying (I think), but I do mind a long, drawn-out process in which one by one, the systems falter.
###
Anyway, because of the heat and worries that my health was collapsing in a new, completely unexpected way, I did not have a good day yesterday. All day long, I kept applying the tips of my fingers to my ankles to time the fractional discoloration. Are they gonna have to replace my mitral valve? I wondered. How long have I got?
Irrational panic is not good for productivity.
Forced myself out for retail therapy. I actually don't like to shop, so I don't know why I thought retail therapy would improve my mood—maybe because it seems to work for everyone else? Dunno.
Went to the Ulster County version of a Deep Discounter I had frequented in Dutchess County, and that, even though I don't like to shop, had surprised me pleasantly in the past with the abundance of its reasonably priced hyaluronic acid face creams and surprisingly attractive leggings.
Place is ug-lee! Hideous overhead fluorescents. Wares crammed onto warehouse shelves with no effort at making stuff pretty. The employees, chatting with one another beside their mops and pails, didn't move out of the way for customers, and I got stalked by a guy in a wheelchair!
Left in a quasi-panic. Raced back to the casa and applied a full face of makeup, even foundation, which is something I have not done in months.
Throughout most of my life, I've been one of those people who look very, very different with and without makeup. Without makeup: typical Southern Italian features, very gaunt, big nose, cranial caverns. With makeup: a veritable Sophia Loren, exotic, exquisite, lovely!
This duality stayed with me most of my life.
But it kind of petered out last year.
Now, with makeup or without makeup, I just look like an old lady.
Aging! Not easy. I mean, sure, easy, in that all you have to do to achieve it is to remain Not Dead. But all the mental adjustments involved in accepting your new limitations? Very, very difficult.
###
Still reading Elizabeth Strout. Lucy Barton picks up toward the middle, though the ending falls apart. Now I'm on to Anything Is Possible. Elizabeth Strout has written a lot of books, so my reading is set till June.
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Date: 2026-05-21 03:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2026-05-21 03:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2026-05-21 05:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2026-05-22 12:16 am (UTC)Yeah, well, my feet swell in hot weather and have for the last twenty years. They debloat in the cold. Also am still alive, so not necessarily a harbinger of congestive heart failure.