Infirmity
I will hit the second prime of the decade in a few months' time. And since it is a new year, I have resorted to cataloguing my infirmities for two reasons: primus, in order to make decisions concerning their cure, removal, or amelioration; secundus, in order to chart my progress towards decrepitude, or if this body be indeed a temple of the Holy Spirit, towards dilapidation.
Head: I have always been colour-blind and there is no help for that. My hearing is slightly worse, my eyesight has begun to approach the edge of presbyopia while the astigmatism has made me shortsighted in many environments. Smell is still a good sense, improving with age for some unknown reason. I have occasional tension headaches, with accompanying clenching of the muscles temporalis, which does not help my temper and makes me even more aware of the passing of time.
Upper Limbs: My wrist muscles need more work. I still strain them too easily. The pain from my right shoulder, in particular, tends to create phantom pain in my right wrist. I can no longer differentiate the two. I am beginning to get pains in the joints of the phalanges. The acromoclavicular joint injury I had 25 years ago is still a nagging pain once or twice a year.
Upper Body: The little growth I had, just off the sternum, stabilised years ago. My lungs are clear despite various scares. My back hurts more quickly when I adopt unnatural postures. This is a warning sign. I try to keep flexible.
Lower Body: Things are OK. Despite the many recessive genes I carry, nothing's gone too badly wrong hereabouts. My lower back has a little wear and tear, but less than my upper back. I have a fat butt.
Lower Limbs: These get abused the most. I have tried many kinds of shoes, but the fact remains that I walk too much and I have flat feet. I have had a small fracture or two in the past. I am quite sure that it is well with my soles these days.
Internal Organs: All's well. Brain not so good these days, but guts still functional. Blood has actually improved since the days of my youth.
Integument: Skin as bad as ever, which is to say not so bad. Some coloured spots, but not unusual ones. Hair going slightly grey as the maternal genes dictate. White in some spots which are not open to the public.
Ah well, we all grow old. I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
Head: I have always been colour-blind and there is no help for that. My hearing is slightly worse, my eyesight has begun to approach the edge of presbyopia while the astigmatism has made me shortsighted in many environments. Smell is still a good sense, improving with age for some unknown reason. I have occasional tension headaches, with accompanying clenching of the muscles temporalis, which does not help my temper and makes me even more aware of the passing of time.
Upper Limbs: My wrist muscles need more work. I still strain them too easily. The pain from my right shoulder, in particular, tends to create phantom pain in my right wrist. I can no longer differentiate the two. I am beginning to get pains in the joints of the phalanges. The acromoclavicular joint injury I had 25 years ago is still a nagging pain once or twice a year.
Upper Body: The little growth I had, just off the sternum, stabilised years ago. My lungs are clear despite various scares. My back hurts more quickly when I adopt unnatural postures. This is a warning sign. I try to keep flexible.
Lower Body: Things are OK. Despite the many recessive genes I carry, nothing's gone too badly wrong hereabouts. My lower back has a little wear and tear, but less than my upper back. I have a fat butt.
Lower Limbs: These get abused the most. I have tried many kinds of shoes, but the fact remains that I walk too much and I have flat feet. I have had a small fracture or two in the past. I am quite sure that it is well with my soles these days.
Internal Organs: All's well. Brain not so good these days, but guts still functional. Blood has actually improved since the days of my youth.
Integument: Skin as bad as ever, which is to say not so bad. Some coloured spots, but not unusual ones. Hair going slightly grey as the maternal genes dictate. White in some spots which are not open to the public.
Ah well, we all grow old. I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
Labels: Healthcare, Life, Old Age
etched with acid at 12:25:00 am
4 Comments:
Oh yes... Another Eliot reference! On a positive and encouraging note, my mum has on occasion marvelled on how well-preserved you seem. You sure you're not abusing the One Ring (thereby feeling like butter scraped over too much bread)?
:S
Brain still in better working condition than most other people of any age, I think. And drive more!!
... Happy new year btw! xx
wait.. you are colour-blind? Did you tell us that when we were doing titration in the lab?
Hiero: well-preserved? sounds more like jam haha...
Jenn: thank you! most happy... :)
Augie: i'm sure i did tell you... besides there are ways of manipulating visual data so as to compensate for the reduced colour resolution. :)
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