It’s Thursday again, and this week I’m feeling a little older and a little stiffer. It’s funny. They never told me this would happen when I got past the magical age of 60. Here are thirteen things they didn’t tell me… have you found some they didn’t tell you?
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They don’t tell you that your toes are like a foreign country, -far away and rarely visited. The effort of cutting toenails and attending to their day-to-day care is almost enough to bring on a heart attack.
No one mentions that doing up bra straps is like a circus act, all contortionist moves, and I am sure my struggles are hilarious if anyone was watching. (No I don’t find the ones doing up in the front convenient or my style either.)
I have documented at length my difficulties when opening things in a previous article, and it gets worse. I threw a bottle of lemonade at a wall the other day in pure frustration and it still remained smugly closed. Just bounced along the floor. Fail!
Since I had my knee reconstruction the bending of that leg is still not perfect, so getting stockings or socks on is an exercise in physics, I try to get the leg in a position that makes it easier to reach my foot, but it has a way of getting away from me and I resort to one leg on a stool. Getting ready to go out is not a smooth operation.
Doing the back of my hair, well that too is such fun. Trying to get the hair tools into position, I usually end up burning my neck, and it involves a lot of expletives.
Putting long boots on; another comic act. I end up hopping about with one boot half on, trying to reach the foot to adjust it. Again, a video of it would be funny I’m sure.
Weeding, well attempting weeding, due to said knee problem kneeling is not easy, I devised a clever trick the other day though, we have a two step ladder, I found that worked pretty well, I sat on the step and used the other for tools. That was a rare win situation.
Getting under beds for items and cleaning, (see above) I tried kneeling on a pillow, but still it was agony. So have to resort to a long broom and a grabber. The grabber is a wonderful invention; I have them dotted about the house to pick up items. Dropping things is another fun part of ageing. The harder it is to pick things up the more you drop them.
Changing Doona covers, OK I could ask the man in the house to help, but I am not like that, more the ‘soldier on’ type. So now I have reached a compromise. I don’t do it. I just add the Doona cover to the fully made bed, without putting it on the Doona. It still covers Ok, and there is a sheet between us and the Doona anyway. Saves the blood sweat and tears involved in putting it into the cover.
I am still trying to find the perfect tool to clean the corners of our very old shower, which again involves bending and stretching and nearly passing out with the effort. I need a long handled scrub brush, think I shall try a deck cleaner next.
Carrying things. They don’t tell you about losing that capacity. I carry heavy washing out to the line, it is my pretend weight lifting work out. But some things I have to move around from the house to the garage are too heavy, large piles of books, and boxes. I am just not as strong as I was. So I use the washing trolley to take it from house to garage, our garage is a long way from the house.
Don’t buy heavy cookware when you are over 70, just a bit of advice from me. The sheer weight makes life difficult. Trying to lift it on and off the cooker is a pain. I have reduced mine to one decent saucepan for making jam, or slow cooked soups, the rest are light weight. Of course it’s good to keep one small heavy pan for hitting husband with…just joking!
Eyes let you down more often. When did I need glasses to go to the supermarket? I am still trying not to give in to the weakness, but then end up asking my husband to read the labels on the cat food or the baking goods. I try to convince myself I only need glasses for working on the computer and reading in poor light. Who am I kidding? I do need them to read the product instructions when I buy a new item, so have some cunningly concealed close to where I work in the kitchen. Ah vanity, it’s a struggle to keep up, and all the things they didn’t tell you are catching up with me too . The only capacity I am still grateful for? And I still have in abundance? A sense of humour. I sure need it these days.