Health Span, not Life Span

Ever since Peter had his 80th birthday and I had my hospital vacation, we seem to have encountered conversations about our age everywhere we go. The topic is not about getting older; it’s about staying healthy. And that’s such a useful topic, because who wants to live to 95 if we’re stuck in a wheelchair, drooling and mumbling?

What we want is quality of life, not quantity! ln order to do this, alterations may be necessary. Some of us may need new knees or hips. Some require hearing aids or stronger glasses. Perhaps we need a couple of tooth implants or a night guard. Maybe a new organ is required, like a kidney. Or a more technical device like my new pacemaker.

Once we are put back together and plugged in, we can move on to staying healthy by keeping up with our drug supply and intake. A container will help us sort this out.

Then we need to stay in shape by exercising everything at a gym. At least twice a week. And don’t forget those arthritic fingers or sagging core. Then find some nice loose-fitting pants, a sweater to hide turkey neck, and some concealer for those wrinkly faces. We are all set to party. Oh wait – first we need a nap!

For entertainment we need to choose something earlier in the day, preferably accessible by public transit. We hope for a loud speaker system and comfy chairs. If there is food, it should be easy to chew and not too spicey. And lots of washrooms nearby.

Peter and I attended an activity last week that fit the bill perfectly. On Tuesday we took a day trip on a bus with a washroom, to St. Jacobs. We went with friends we have known for over 40 years. Along the way we enjoyed a delicious and chewable roast beef dinner with melt-in-your mouth cheesecake for dessert. We remembered to take our medications. Then we saw a show in a theatre in an old schoolhouse, the kind we might have attended ourselves. The singers replicated the Four Plaids of 1950s fame and belted out lots of music that we knew! We sang along in our off-key voices.

On the way back in the bus, the snoring was loud and comforting. And we got home well before our bedtime. It was a perfect event. With days like this, we could happily live to 95.

Sue

Tobie’s Trip

Readers may remember stories of Venus the dog, or Missy and Sissy the mice, moving in with us for short-term stays. It has been lonely for a while, with just Peter and me, until an unfortunate circumstance changed all that.

In early July, Tobie, along with his two-legged father Dan, and brother Ben, was heading up from New York to visit for the summer, when their car broke down. This is not just any car; it’s a fairly new Mercedes with low mileage. It had no business breaking down. Furthermore it was loaded with stuff: summer clothes, water toys, Tobie’s dog bed, and even a big bass instrument so Ben could practice his new musical skill over the summer. And it was night.

Thanks to cell phones, the car was eventually towed to a dealership while Tobie and his family found a dog-loving motel for the rest of the night. But the next day the news about the car was not good. It would have to be towed back to New York City to be fixed.

It took Dan a couple of days to find a rental vehicle that was permitted to cross the border into Canada. He finally located a pick-up truck, with a big cab, but no cover on the back. Tobie and his family climbed into the cab, but the suitcases and bass had to go in the back. As soon as they set off, it began to rain. Dan drove quickly, hoping the wind would swoosh the rain away. Mostly it did.

Finally arriving in Canada, Dan dried off the cargo, and traded in the pick-up truck for a small sedan. He met up with his wife Jenny who had flown to Toronto a few days earlier, and they all settled into their summer home. After all that stress, Tobie was relieved to be in a familiar place with his dad. Meanwhile the Mercedes sat at the New York City dealership waiting for spare parts.

The summer came and went, and nothing else bad happened. Ben practiced on his bass and Tobie carried on with his life of eating and sleeping and sometimes walking. Then it was time to go back to New York. The Mercedes was now waiting for an entire new engine from Germany. The rental car was too small to take them all home along with their suitcases and bass and Tobie. And then it would have to be driven back to Canada anyway. There really was no option but to fly home. But what about the bass and Tobie? Should Dan pay for 2 extra seats on the plane, or stow them in cargo – to what fate?

Dear readers you already know the answer. The bass is sitting in our basement. As for Tobie, he has settled in quite well. He sleeps in his bed in our bedroom and hardly ever snores. He wanders around our back yard and sniffs. He licks the dinner plates before they go in the dishwasher. He has figured out how to take a running leap and land on the couch. He has made friends with several other dogs in the neighbourhood.

But mostly he waits by the front door, hoping his dad will come by in a vehicle, any vehicle, to pick him up.

Sue

WAIT TIMES

In the last couple of months, we have found our calendar notations changing. A Lot! Instead of being used for social purposes, now the calendar looks more like a medical journal.

Back in May, Peter and I had time for lots of fun activities: a Jays game, some meet-ups with friends, fitness classes followed by coffee, Peter’s poker party, lunch with our “bridge group,” even a short trip to Montreal! Then all that changed. Lately we have been spending our time in doctors’ waiting rooms.

With a bang, I fell and fractured a bone in my shoulder, which required almost 7 hours in a hospital, wheeling from waiting room, to exam area, to sling-fitting room, and back to waiting room. All that was before I even escaped from the hospital the first time! Then I was required to return 3 times for follow-up consultations. Besides that, I had physiotherapy appointments twice a week for several weeks. But at least the wait time for those is usually short.

Peter’s eye doctor was up next. Her office is the worst. I usually go with him just to pass the time together. First we wait in line to see the receptionist. Then we wait for the tests: distance, eye pressure, pictures of behind the eyeball and so on. Then we wait to see the actual doctor. And on this last visit, we waited to see yet another person to arrange cataract surgery for Peter. That surgery requires 4 more appointments; one for measuring the eye, two for the eye operations, and a final one for follow-up.

Then last week I began to feel some shortness of breath. I figured it was the heat or the poor air quality so I ignored it for a while. Then I gave in and got an appointment with my family doctor and of course she ordered tests. So last Thursday I had to cancel golf and spend the morning in waiting rooms for blood work and chest Xray. Then the cardiologist’s office called to give me an appointment for next week, and I had a choice: cancel Peter’s cataract surgery OR cancel golf – again! How unfair is that?

On top of that, the dentist has started leaving phone messages about our semi-annual cleaning. She wants her share of our time too.

I know that we are very lucky to have these services so close and so available. And the wait times are easy to manage when one of us runs next door to Tim’s for coffee and muffins. Then we open our devices and read about people in many other countries who wait a week or a month for a bag of flour. Sometimes they even die while waiting. How unfair is that??

Life is pretty darned good in Canada. So if/when you find yourself in a doctor’s waiting room, use the time to learn more about our country’s wonderful people, including our 2 budding athletic stars: Summer McIntosh and Vicky Mboko, and our top-ranking Blue Jays team. One day in the future they too will be in doctors’ waiting rooms.

Sue

PS Sorry this is late – but, and this is the Truth – I was in a waiting room from 7:30 am till almost 11!!