LOVE this! With your spirit and curiosity topped with a 'don't give a *%@(' attitude, you're going to do just fine.

It takes strength to look clearly at your own life and what the landscape now determines is your life, including the wants and desires.

This was a terrific read and offered me to imagine your reality as my own, which could be the case some day.

I can empathize with your reality. If staying in bed wasn't more painful than getting up I fear I would do just that some days. By accepting your reality you have adjusted to it well and your new view is the right way to go. Asking for help and making necessary adjustments are vital to accepting 'what is'.

We can no longer escape the difficulties we face by taking trips or doing other physical activities; so we soldier on in these old bodies that no longer work right. And there are times when we go dark, as you said, and wonder if it's worth the fight.

Although my daughter lives with me and I am not alone, she has her own physical limitations and there are times when she is unable to help me. I wonder what I will do if my bad hip finally refuses to hold me. Affordable help for the disabled is missing in our society.

In my case, staying on beyond my shelf life expiration date is getting more difficult and I think there is a niche that is unfulfilled in our medical system and should be addressed. Nursing homes are underpaid, poorly run and end up being waiting rooms for the grim reaper (not McConnell). Maybe the Eskimos have it right when they sit on the ice floe when they are no longer of use.

Aren't I the cheerful one? Apologies for a downer comment, but I think the subject of those living alone when needing daily help is one that needs to be seriously studied.

Good for you. Some days I just don't get up really at all. Stay in bed and read and nap. It usually makes me feel better. Some days the reality of our health/situation is and it takes some crying and being angry to move past it for me. I am so grateful for my pragmatic family who is sympathetic but good at adjusting to reality. I try not to think about what realities await. There's no more preparing I can do.

Good for you! It is, as the kids say, what it is.

I, too, have always found pressure to be "cheerful" and "inspirational" oppressive. The dark side of all that positive thinking is mainly to convince others that whatever awful thing you're struggling with will NEVER, EVER happen to them! And even if it does, it won't be "that bad."

Meanwhile, I'd feel more alone than ever. Thanks to the internet, we at least know that we're not.

Thank you.

Yes, thank you! I admire your choice to be authentic, which seems so hard to be in our society, at least until we are older. Other than Ronni and these comments, many of us are reluctant to put our real thoughts and feelings out there and make ourselves vulnerable.

Your article helps me better understand my husband's health situation and his reaction to it. He also has degenerative disc disease along with a myriad of other issues, spinal and more. At almost age 75, he is literally in bed at least 18 hours a day and "can't do much" because of leg weakness and pain to the point of incapacity. He doesn't communicate much so as not to "complain".

Best wishes to you. And to Ronni and my fellow readers.

I SO agree. Pollyanna I'm not, especially about old age (as anyone who's read my comments over the past couple of years may have discerned). There's really not all that much to like about old age, but especially the inability to do basic tasks we've done all our lives or--if we can still do them at all--the extra time and energy required.

I was always a high-energy, involved, active (though not terribly athletic) person but now not so much. It's surprising what limitations ongoing physical pain can impose on one's life. I'm appreciative of what I still have but can definitely relate to the fear of losing it. I'm very fortunate to still have my wonderful husband, who will turn 90 in November, and our two senior cats. Neither of us has a "killer" disease or dementia (yet). We have adequate basic financial resources but far from enough to pay for more than a 2-3 years of long term care--even if we can continue to pay the rising premiums on the insurance we bought many years ago.

My world IS smaller and less available and I don't like that. But it is what it is. . .I've always advocated being able to designate the time, place and means of my own demise. I still do.

Well put Carole!

Yes, Yes, YES! Totally agree with all of the above and, as also said above, our society really needs to address this issue.

Fully understand, feel some what like I am walking in your shoes except I have a husband that is either senile or dementia. One in the same as far as I'm concerned.

Thank you, Carole! This is such a timely message. I, too, have felt the pressure to "cheer up," be smiling, and positive ALL the time. I can muster it up sometimes, but why do we have to? , When I tried to share some of this with my writing group, they were dismayed. I have not done that again.
You are showing so much courage. Good luck as you go on doing things your way.

There are so many brave, wise voices here. I am very moved by what you said Carole, and then by the comments. It's too bad all these conversations can't be published and be forced reading by all health care professionals.

It really is hard to find someone evolved enough to be able to sit with us in our despair and anger, but they are out there. You just have to keep telling the truth.

Carole, your writing is crisp, sharp and no holds barred.

You're describing the cold hard truth about your life right now.

It's not a movie- it's your new reality.

You're kicking it's ass by making some changes.

Thank you for being your authentic self.

Respect.

*Keep on writing.*

Wow. I read all the comments. Oh my. On the heels of finishing, Never Say Die by Susan Jacobs. Jacoby? It's in my car and I am too lazy to go get it or to look it up. Anyhow, reality looms and I hear it in everyone's posts. For those of us that have time there are lessons. One is don't be old and poor in America. I am a scant 68, so not ( ha! ha!) old. Perfect health and affluent. My heart aches for everyone who isn't. The Baby Boomer bulge is going to knock our healthcare system to it's knees. Our society is in denial and selfishness about how to best manage what is coming as sure as the sun rises. It's outrageous and disgusting. Europe does it better. But for those of us that are here, what to do? How to navigate what looms ahead? Reading and being aware helps. My heart aches...it's terrible to read how our medicare system is designed. My brother lives in Germany. My daughter in is Swiss...they don't have these worries. America is the land of the rich, greedy and all of those that have bought into what is being sold. Guess again, old age comes with a big bite. Harsh...hard to be optimistic. I am not. Personally, I will be ok. Sadly, many won't. Thanks always for this blog that teaches us about what is coming and how to deal with it with grace and dignity and wide open eyes.

Karin

TO Everyone Who Has Written Comments So Far and Those Who May Do So Later... Thank you from the bottom of my heart. What you have shared has made me feel less alone than I have in a long time. To hear all of you voice openly and honestly your challenges, fears and decisions has opened my mind and made me more determined than ever to continue my writing and photography, not hesitate to say when I am feeling terrible, be kinder to myself when it happens, do everything I can to manage my illness and celebrate those moments when I am well. You have given me an unexpected gift!

Emma Jay, I was always terrible at "the glad game" too! That said, I hope your family members get through their bad times and emerge relatively unscathed.

Like you, I'm appreciative of being more or less O.K. financially--that is, as long as neither of us lives too much longer or becomes seriously disabled. For the "action" person that I once was, it's scary to contemplate that we really can't do much of anything about it at this stage in our lives.

However, like many other commenters, I feel less alone after realizing that I'm not, for which I thank Carole Leskin and all the commenters.