Ode to Aging

(My battery is low and I have to write doubly fast this morning; please pardon typos you may discover.)

So, I remembered another reason that I miss cold weather while packing for the retreat this past weekend - turtlenecks!

Ah, the camouflage capabilities available through the lowly turtleneck sweater!

For obvious reasons I seldom ever wear them here in FL. I had quite a few when we first moved down from NC but between 75 degree winter days and mid-life power surges I find them unnecessary now.

A cold front moved across the peninsula the day we left so we packed all our favorite "winter clothing" for the weekend. (It was only in the low 80's outside but convention centers usually run the air conditioning as though electricity is free! My nose didn't thaw out until we were almost back to Winter Haven.)

I still have a little purple turtleneck sweater (sleeveless, of course) that looks great under my conference wardrobe staple - the jeans jacket. I tucked my extra chin away in the billowing folds of the sweater, added a long silver necklace and headed for the first meeting feeling confident.

Diane Keaton (Father of the Bride I and II; Mad Money) also believes in the benefits afforded by turtleneck dressing. I've always thought her to be a lovely actress. And actually, it just occurred to me that this could also be referred to as turkey neck avoidance dressing. But that likely wouldn't help with sales. Smile.

When we all arrived at the convention hotel, it came to light that we had two distinct age groups. Kristin suggested that we have "a young-un room and two old-un rooms"! I was immediately offended but moved my suitcase anyway.

Our room went to sleep sooner; woke up earlier; flailed covers more frequently; and snored. Sad but true.

Topping things off, I made my first visit to a podiatrist on Thursday morning.

Frank had injured his heel playing racquet ball a few months back and found Dr. Patel, the patient podiatrist. Apparently Dr. Patel is also popular because he was running an hour behind schedule when we arrived.

I'd been having serious pain in the ball of my left foot and knew it was time to find out what was going on. So I accompanied Frank to his follow up appointment.

The fact that everyone in the waiting area had probably been a teenager during the Truman era gave me a little concern. Then when Dr. Patel grabbed Frank's foot and immediately pressed the one spot that was still sensitive, I started thinking maybe my foot didn't hurt so badly after all.

"Okay, Mrs. Hawley. Let's take a look at you." Too late to run. He started pressing and pushing and palpitating.

"Um hm. Okay. Yes. Yes. Well. Okay. Let's put a cortisone shot in here, okay?" He said it so casually that it could have been an invitation to lunch.

But no! This doctor wanted to freeze the top of my foot then stick a needle through my foot shooting medicine into my foot in order to cure my foot! Nothing in that procedure sounded like compassionate medical treatment in any way, shape or form to me.

I looked at Frank with pleading, puppy-dog eyes. But he was no help at all! Cortisone shots were something he had already endured and he was all for it.

He did stand up and offer to hold my hand. I looked away!

Now let me tell you........I have pushed three children into this world without the aid of so much as an extra strength Tylenol. So I'm a pretty tough broad. But that shot HURT! I'm sure I left a couple of fingernail markings on the back of Frank's hand.

Sigh.

Turkey necks, bunions, bursitis (I didn't even know how to spell it), power surges............ Aging isn't for the faint of heart. But a little laughter sure helps the journey!