It started around Thanksgiving. It started to hit me that OMG – THIS was going to be my last holiday season in my 40s. The big 5-0 was just around the corner. So I started to make all the right decisions regarding resisting the aging process.
Let me tell you what that looks like.
- Tattoed eyebrows and eyeliner. That phrase – needles in my eyes? Yeah- did it.
- Having Botchilism injected into my forehead to get rid of the canyons in my forehead. It was a bit painful as a bunch of needles poked and prodded and immediately created bee sting like bumps on my forehead but I think I look 45 instead of 49 now.
- That same day, my friend Nicole and I decided to go for a walk in the beautiful snowstorm. We tracked around the little village of Greenwich – up through the school field and into the cemetery. We stopped to talk to a friend who was out walking her dog and commented on the gorgeous, magnificent beauty around us. As we left the brief encounter I snapped pictures of the evergreens and bright blue sky and felt at peace with the universe. The next steps were through soft, fluffy snow that was covering a sheet of ice. My feet lost their balance and I quickly found myself horizontal on the ground after hearing a loud, LOUD SNAP from when I tried to stop the fall with my right hand. My heart stopped. My breathing stopped. I couldn’t see. It took a bit for Nicole to get me up, schlep me home and convince me that Urgent Care would be a good place to go. Needless to say, within a few days I had a metal plate and some pins installed in my forearm. This transaction was complete with some good pain meds, a black cast and a new subscription to Showtime and HBO. I always thought that if I broke a bone it would be during some dramatic adventure – not just walking around the block. It’s SO OLD LADY.
- In an effort to multi-task during my convalescence, I decided to schedule Lasik surgery to get rid of the umpteen pairs of cheaters and contacts and Warby Parker glasses laying around the house. Yesterday I had my eyes cut open and lasered back together and today I have 20/20 vision. There were tons of middle aged people sitting in the waiting room this morning and it is becoming clearly evident that I belong to a new group.
As this whole age thing kicked in this fall, a friend asked me to be part of a spin class/bike ride fund raiser. It would be a great excuse for some “OLD” friends to get together. I wanted to resist because time is often limited these days but my friend had recently lost her brother to cancer and she was dedicated to make a difference and help find a cure.
The Charity is Sloan Kettering and I’ve been resisting writing this letter. I’m resisting asking for money because there are SO many organizations in need. I’m resisting because it hits close to home. I’m resisting because I don’t want to cry when I think about my friend who is going through her second clinical trial at Sloane and I am scared for her. I’m resisting because I don’t want to let people know that I am angry cancer still exists. I’m resisting because I feel guilty. I feel guilty about resisting 5-0 when I should be screaming out loud with gratitude that I actually made it through my Forties.
I don’t know why some of us make it and others don’t.
But I do know that since I am still here, I need to help others when I can.
Just for today, that request comes in the form of asking you to donate a few dollars to Cycle for Survival, a fundraising arm of Sloan Kettering. In exchange for your donation, I’ll stop telling you all my tales of woe as I get older….