Four years ago I sat in the waiting room at a urologists office. I was 25 and the youngest person waiting by about 40 years. The older man sitting next to me looked at me and said “You’re too young to be here.” He said exactly what I was thinking. I was 25 and there was no way I should have been at a urologist. At most I should have been seeing an orthopedist who was trying to set a broken leg from when I was injured playing rugby.
That was the beginning for me, the beginning of my cycle of doctors. The beginning of not living a normal life. The beginning of always being the youngest person in the doctors office.It’s funny how much I have in common with older people. They complain about:
– About their aches and pains and how they inhibit their life
– Not being able to sleep because they hurt too much
– How their arthritis prevents them from opening cans or jars.
And then there is me, the 29 year old who has all the same complaints!
– I can’t sleep no matter how tired I am.
– I have started buying canned food that has a pull tab because regular cans are a form of torture for me.
– I’ve had to give up sports and zumba in favor of yoga and walking which are much more gentle on my body.
I’m an 85 year old before my time.