I looked in the mirror today and there staring back was a stranger – a white bearded old man.  Who the hell’s that old fart?   It took me a second to recognize myself.  Then I thought, when did this disconnection happen between my interior and exterior?  See, my body has grown old while the person living inside the body is still young.  What the hell happened?  Where did the time go?  It seems like just yesterday I was graduating from high school or was that college and then getting married.  Anyway, it just happened.  Oh and I gotta get the kids to hockey practice and then help with their science projects – we’re going to kill that solar oven this year!  No, it wasn’t just yesterday.  The kids are gone and taking care of their own kids.   And that old fart is me, still staring into the mirror in disbelief.   

Try as I might, there’s no escaping it.  I’m growing old and with it comes the inevitable physical and mental decline.  Sure, I feel young on the inside and I’m as active as I’ve ever been but at some point, my age is going to catch up with me.   It’s going to catch up with us all.   While I’m doing okay right now it’s the final few years of my life that have me concerned.  When I can no longer bend over to do up my shoelaces, and, no Velcro is not an option, am I going to need assistance for living?  Am I going to live my last few years in a nursing home forced to wear support hose, chain suck hard candies and be roommates with people I don’t even know?  How is it we adopt pets from shelters, yet we put our elderly in them?  

It’s an especially bleak outlook given how residents of nursing homes faired during the Covid health crisis.   The pandemic shed a light on how we care for and house our senior citizens.  Unfortunately, it isn’t a pretty picture.  Battle hardened soldiers were traumatized by what they found when they were sent to assist beleaguered staff in some long-term care facilities.  Clearly, we need to change how we care for our elderly.  But for that to happen, enormous institutional change needs to take place.  I don’t work in government or public health so there isn’t much I can do to fix the situation.   Sure, I can write letters and lobby to the appropriate authorities but that feels like a drop in the bucket.  No, the way I’m going to affect change is by taking personal responsibility for my own health.  I’m going to do whatever it takes to avoid going into one of those facilities.   And while I hope that’s many years off, I’m investing in my present health to avoid a care facility in my future.

See, I have no intention of being warehoused in some long-term care arrangement.  I don’t plan on going to Renaissance Villa, Bayside Breezes or Rolling Country Acres – they always give these places quaint names, but I guess it’s better than “Costc-o-l-d – Where every day is senior’s day”.  No, my plan is to live as long and as well as possible.  To do that, I know I have to lay the groundwork today.  I also know that “man makes plans and God laughs” – it all may be for naught should I be struck by some disease to which I’m genetically predisposed.  I’m willing to roll the dice on that one.  

My cardiologist told me there were three main things that impact your health: bad genes, bad lifestyle and bad luck.  Now there’s not much you can do about your genes (yet) and bad luck is bad luck, but lifestyle can definitely be influenced.  I plan to take the one thing under my control and work the daylights out of it.  

I’ve come to realize old age isn’t going to put me in that nursing home, frailty will.  Frailty is a medical condition of reduced function and health.  When you become frail you are more vulnerable to disease and the need for increased medical treatment.  Don’t think frailty will affect you?  Think again.  Today 1.6 million Canadians live with some form of frailty but in 10 years that number will be 2.5 million – if you live in the US just move the decimal point one digit to the right.   Even if you’re not one of those frail individuals they’re going to take enormous resources out of our medical system and society.   As we know, our systems are already stretched thin.  What’ll happen when we add another million (or 10) people who need constant care.  Oh, we’re all going to feel the impact, frail or not.   

But I’ve also learned you can push back against frailty and remain active and robust.  A body at rest is open to rust and I have no intention of rusting.  I refuse to go down without a fight.  So, what’s the plan?  Well, if you’ve been following my other posts, you’ll know that I’m attempting to not only get back in shape but be in the best shape of my life by September 2021.  I’ll expand on my plan and how I’m getting and keeping in shape in the next installment.    In the meantime, if you see frailty around tell it to meet me in the parking lot in ten years ‘cause I’m going to kick its ass.