Signs of Aging

In the past few years, I, like everyone, have had to come to terms with the fact I will get older. We all know and deny it over and over. Each year we celebrate another birthday, add another number to our age and convince ourselves that we are aging gracefully and this will all be a breeze.

It's one thing to notice these “signs of aging” on our own. For instance, brushing through your hair and being completely horrified to find what has to be a gray hair and then immediately plucking it out of your head and flushing it before anyone sees the evidence. Or, getting up off the floor after being seated “Indian style” playing a board game with your children and wanting to scream because it feels like both of your knees have just been blown to pieces. Then there's my favorite, finding out your favorite food, hot wings dipped in bleu cheese dressing with an ice cold beer on the side, not only adds 10 pounds on your rear in the course of a year, but now gives you uncontrollable heartburn that causes your ears to perk up during the Nexium commercials.

It's quite another thing for your “aging” to be pointed out by a complete stranger whose only real purpose in life is to make money off of the visually impaired. A simple trip to the eye doctor can turn your attitude on “aging” upside down.

Last week I decided to have an eye exam. It had been six years and my, long prescribed, reading prescription just wasn't holding up any longer. I am fortunate enough to only wear glasses while I am working at the computer or reading for a long period of time. Computer work eats about 12 hours of my day, so I may as well wear the glasses all day. Aside from needing my prescription checked, I thought I'd mention a few other eye issues I've been noticing. The doctor introduced himself, shuffled around with exam tools and asked the obligatory, “How's the weather out there today?” As if he didn't just stroll in at 10 am and has plans to be on the course by 3pm…

I answered his questions, chatted cordially and went through the same exam I had when I was first prescribed glasses in 1985. That's when it happened. He began to poke around on the computer and said, “Watch this short video and see if any of these symptoms relate to the problems you've been having.” That sounded fair. He left the room and I nestled in to watch show. “It will probably be the same film they had shown my 14 year old daughter a few weeks earlier.” I thought to myself.

Her video was all about cool technological advances in lenses and how your eyeglasses become sunglasses in the sunlight. That is not the video I had been given. I got the “You're Getting Older” video.

“This can't be for me!” I thought. “I don't hold the newspaper five feet out in front of me… I don't make that weird squinty face while looking both ways at the intersection… I don't make the kids get my glasses just so I can sign their homework papers… do I???”
As I sat through 8 to 12 minutes of denial, acceptance and depression I began to realize why he left the room. They were probably right outside the door, snickering and taking bets on when I would break down in tears over the fact I'm getting old.

Much to their disappointment, I handled it beautifully. I refused to buy new glasses, paid my co-pay and left the premises, never to return.

You see, I don't have a problem “knowing” I'm getting older. I just don't want anyone else to feel obliged to point it out.

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