We are fragile as clay pots! Being 70 isn’t easy. Frank is in heart failure, I have bouts with gout, and both of us have high blood pressure along with high sugar. This means we spend half our time running to doctor appointments and then try to fit in times for games. Today, I attempted to play mah-jongg with some friends, but found out there was a special program in the room where we play. We moved on to another room, but then had to move because there was exercise class in there at 11 am. Got in two games, but no one won. It was distracting to have to move. Frank and I both spent an hour in an appointment this week and have to go back again in two weeks. Word to the wise: get in shape in your sixties so you can endure all the failings that happen with your body in your seventies…haha. Never thought I’d get gout, but I suppose it is inherited from my father. I inherited type II Diabetes from mother. Someone in the family predisposed us all to spinal stenosis…a real bear! Can hardly stand for longer than 10 minutes…too much pain.
another medical issue evolves around FOOD…why do you think God lets us fall apart when we eat certain foods…It’s the pits having to delete foods from the diet that cause high sugar and others that cause gout!! I could write a book!! Did you know that gout can be caused by eating too much purine that is found in certain foods? for some reason the body doesn’t process the way it should…shell fish, oily fish, spinach, oatmeal, asparagus, cauliflower, mushrooms, and beans of all kinds can set off an attack…and that is not all…there are many meats, especially organ meats, that also are bad. the biggy is BEER…which I do not drink anyway! Then add all the foods that have starch/sugars to my list and that leaves me with very little choice.
It’s the pits being seventy. Growing old is supposed to be a blessing from God, but I guestion that statement. If we could just grow old and not have all the aches and pains and restrictions on everything we eat, then old age could be nice…but it isn’t. Things that I loved to do are not possible anymore. The old bode wants rest.
Good luck with your own “clay pot.” Take care of it or it will break.