Post #55: I do like Matlock....

Sexy retirees with sexy white hair having sexy cocktails on a sexy beach

A few days ago, I was having a conversation with a friend when she remarked, out of nowhere, "You are living the life of a 65 year old. You're like retired."

At first, I was offended. This lasted approximately 30 seconds until I realized that she was basically correct. She wasn't suggesting that I had taken, as it were, early retirement by choice, merely that I was living the life of a person who is typically several decades older.

And it's true-my day is basically my own. I'm not working right now. I have leisurely lunch dates (where I eat safe foods); I do light walking around the neighborhood with an older neighbor; I'm preoccupied with my bowel movements. When people call me, they ask about my health. When I'm out, people are constantly asking me if it's "too much" because I get tired easily. I worry about insurance and flu shots and whooping cough. I take afternoon naps. It sometimes feels like a chunck of my life has been scooped out and I've been deposited into middle age.

Granted, this detour is not something I planned, but it's disconcerting to attend, say, a baby shower and feel that you have more in common with the knitting grandmas than the pregnant lady who is 6 months your junior. I feel very disconnected from my peers. I feel like I haven't earned this life of "leisure." Granted, I'm dealing with a very AAC, blah blah blah, but I feel like I'm watching everyone else build their lives while I'm stuck in medical limbo.

What I am trying to convey (and failing to do so, I think) is that I don't feel like my time now is productive. I'm not accomplishing anything, or building foundations for the future, or even screwing up and having fun. I'm not doing anything. I'm waiting for things to happen to me. I would love to say that with the next new medicine, and there always seems to be a next new medicine, my health problems will be managed and I'll be able to return to my old life. But as I sit here and watch the world go by, I wonder what that new life will look like. My old life doesn't seem like enough. When your world shrinks, and you imagine your future, you want it to stretch and grow and become bigger than it was.

I'm finally following my doctor's orders. Hopefully, this next new drug will get me to a place of more stability. I guess I'm just not so sure anymore about what I want to do when I get there.