Aging Differently

With yet another birthday looming large on the horizon, my mind wanders around the years behind me and the (hopefully) years ahead. While some find it amazing that I'm still alive (I often wonder how myself) it's really not surprising. I've tried to keep my health in the 'ok' range most of my life. I was born premature and spent the first part of my life in a plastic box (incubator). The only human touch I felt was via rubber gloves reaching into the box. As a kid, my health was never great. I managed to contract chicken pox, mumps, and measles at the same time. I caught every cold or flu that came around. Tonisilitis? At least count, I've had it over 30 times. The docs never even considered removing them until I was nearly 50, at which point it was considered maybe not the best idea. Infections? Damned near every organ in my body has had some sort of infection. Lungs, kidneys, stomach, liver, I practically lived on antibiotics until my 20s. At 12 I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis. I woke up and could barely open my hand all the way. Happened the next day, and the next. Dad, being a doctor, took me to the office for bloodwork (back when doctors offices did such things and didn't farm them out). Yep, RA. Welcome to life kid. Just a note (pun intended), playing guitar has kept my hands working all these years. I used to walk everywhere, which kept my knees going until the pandemic. They've since become a painful mess. 

Surprisingly, I never had a hospital stay until I was 18, and that was due to a car crash. I've been in a few times since. An out-of-control fever put me in for a day. Spinal surgery put me in for a few days (then 2 months on my back at home).  An esophageal spasm and ensuing coma landed me in for a week or so. A heart attack put me in for a few days. A stroke for a few more. And I did most of that alone. (my better half got me through the stroke, and the stroke that followed a month later)

I (allegedly) fathered a child at 16. I claimed her and was ready to step up to my responsibilities, but her mum took off with her at 2 months old. So, I never got to be a dad to her. I wanted to; her mum had other ideas. I've allegedly fathered as many as 16 other kids, but whenever I say, "paternity test", those situations disappear. I got married once, and that was a disaster. No kids there. 

I've always had music and work to fill my time. I've been lucky enough to have a lot of friends and acquaintances. I wasn't good at romantic relationships until I met my better half. We've been together nearly 15 years and she hasn't run screaming yet. I'm still not sure what's wrong with her. If there isn't some bizarre attachment disorder, or some deep-rooted psychosis, this woman should be up for sainthood. I know, I'm not easy to live with. 

For a few years, I got to be a 'pops'. A young man adopted me as his chosen father figure. Best time of my life. I got to do a lot of the 'dad' things I thought I'd be good at...and I think I was. But, after a few years, I guess he outgrew the need for a surrogate 'pops'. I'm thankful every second of every day for the time spent with him. I taught him music, I taught him to cook, how to fend for himself, how to manage those annoying adult responsibilities (bills, taxes, etc.). I even taught him to drive and helped him get his license. He taught me a lot of things too. From his view of the world, I saw my own need for improvement in certain areas and have worked to better myself. (Thanks D!)

Then I look around at my friends, my contemporaries. I see their 'normal' lives. Spouses, kids, grandkids (yep, we're getting old), vacations, careers, etc. It doesn't feel like I've ever been on the same path as any of them. Most of them have retirement to look forward to. A pension, 401k, IRA, etc. Kids to look after them when they reach adult diaper age. I don't have that. Any savings I ever had disappeared thanks to health issues. I was doing good until the strokes. Has a nice nest egg. Then I had to live off that. But I still have music, right?

Yes and no. I do still write and record, I perform once in a while...but the ol' body can't do all the things it used to. I've spent the better part of the past two years recuperating from my strokes. Most days I feel pretty good. I still don't have total confidence in the left side of my body though. The left leg sometimes shouts "ENOUGH!" and gives out on me. The left arm is still considerable weaker than the right. I have most of the dexterity back in my left hand, most of the time...but not 100%. Like the left leg, it sometimes shouts "ENOUGH!" and gives out on me. It hasn't happened during a show...yet. 

As with anyone over 50, especially with a birthday coming up, I'm taking stock of this life. Regrets? Nah, not really. I can't miss something I never had. I wish I didn't loathe school as much as I do. It was never challenging, and college was just expense after expense with little guarantee of a useful outcome. So much for those two PhD's I had originally planned. But I've educated myself, just as many of the greats have done. If I want to know something, I find out as much as I can about it. My OCD has been useful for this. I explore as much information about a given subject as my brain can hold. I can hold my own with professors on subjects that interest me. Being self-educated, I also think outside of the proverbial box, which is something I think more folks should try. Just because you come up with an idea doesn't mean you have to live by it. Sometimes it's just a mental exercise. Just like writing this blog.

I'm aging. So are my contemporaries. But are we aging the same? Should we be? At the end of the day, there is no comparison between lives lived. If you feel you've missed out on something, it probably isn't too late to try.