Is age just a number?

This is the May of my life.

Dear 50 plus, the blossom years, no you are not just a number, you really are a collection of ailments!


I was awake early this morning reminiscing about pre 47.7 and how back then days of feeling good were not just a once a year thing. Last night I struggled to get to sleep because of:


  1. itchy hay fever eyes.

  2. hot restless legs.

  3. a hip that really doesn't like any sleep position or mattress.

Eventually I gave in, sprayed my legs with magnesium, popped some allergy drops in my eyes and reached for the pain killers.


I miss my ovaries and thats the truth. I miss my bouncy, soft skin. Loosing my ovaries early was the start of an elevated ageing process and brought way more misery than joy to my poor old body, my temple, now renamed the temple of doom..!


As I joined the wide awake club in the early hours of this morning, I decided to label myself from top to toe:


Hair - rather lacking in parts. Takes five years to grow an inch. Causes, inherited female baldness, lockdown box dye damage and well being born Scottish!

Brain - foggy and forgetful in parts but can hark back to 1980 in technicolour!

Eyes - blind but can still thread a needle at 30 paces. right eye, squeaky. Left eye - dry as a bone.

Eye lids - gritty and weepy.

Eye lashes - gone girl.

Nose - fine - except when I sleep on my face which I do most nights.

Skin - sandpaper, ruddy and that makes me look healthy even when I'm declared almost dead?

Ears - I can hear a pin drop.

Cheeks - now meet my breasts in solidarity.

Mouth - Mona Lisa. Resting bitch face down pat.

Neck - odd looking saggy pouch of left over skin from cheeks!

Shoulders and neck - wrecked.

Breasts - perky but like living under my arm pits!

Arms - flappy.

Waistline - fine oddly

Bladder - can contain ten litres no problem but one sneeze and 'Houston we have a problem'.

Hands and feet - puffy sausages!

Thighs - inner thighs increased in girth to protect my Fou Fou which appears to be aiming towards the exit, thighs stopping that exit no problem!

Stomach - depends if I've eaten of not! Shows a plate of food in seconds.

Digestive system - absolutely buggered. Noisy and gassy needs an ASBO.

Bottom - the only part of me that has Kardashian DNA.

Hip - right hand replacement in my near future due to a nasty habit of sitting like a yoga frog!

Legs - tree trunks, couldn't even break them if you tried and believe me a snowboarder once tried!

Lower legs - imitate shape and girth of a body builder!

Ankles - Cankles!

Feet - collapsing in protest.


If this is 53.7, I'm dreading the next 30 years. Pass me the Zimmer frame, book me a spot in one of those fancy American old folks resorts with a bowling alley and make sure I can still drink my hooch! I wish for badly behaved. pink hair friends who aim to grow old absolutely disgracefully!


No Susan, age is not just a number, it's a bloody bad joke!


May to September, eh!


Gumption!


D x





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