Tag Archives: Old People

Continuation of a Mid-Life Crisis

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I woke up one day and none of the clothes in my closet were mine.  I’m not making this up.

Okay, maybe I am, but that’s the way it felt.  I tried on 90% of my closet, and nothing seemed to fit – neither my body or my personality.

Over the next several days I bought and returned dozens of items.  A geometric print maxi-dress seemed fine in the store.  Maybe a bit “young” for me, but I was sure I could still pull it off.  And then I got it home, where I realized that, NO, I couldn’t pull it off and back to the store it went.

I’ve done this time and time again.  I’m in some sort of Limbo (the Catholic kind, not the game) where I’m too old for average women clothes and too young for old women clothes.

Last week, I hit bottom.  I gathered all my strength and walked into what I’ve always considered The Old Woman Clothing Store.  As I flipped through the racks of shapeless dresses and baggy capris, I had a running conversation with myself.

“I’m too young to wear these clothes!”

“No you’re not.  Look around at the other women here.  They’re not much older than you.”

“I don’t belong here”

“You do belong here.”

“I DON’T!”
“You Do!”
“Fine! I’ll try something on!!!”

I picked several items off the racks and trudged to the dressing room.  Just as I was stepping into my first outfit, hoping to god I wouldn’t look in the mirror and see my grandmother, I overheard this conversation in the store, right outside my dressing room door.

Salesclerk:  “Here we go.  I’ve put you in the largest dressing room  – where they’ll be plenty of room for your walker.”

Customer:  “Why, thank you dear.”

I ran out of that store so quickly I almost broke a hip.
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Bonus Blog Post

While I was working on the blog post above, this email conversation occurred with one of my brothers. Caution – I’m leaving in the strong language.  I know, can you believe it?

Mike:  So FYI, I am officially a middle aged woman trapped in a man’s body.  In addition to frozen shoulder, it appears I now have varicose veins.  I found two cysts in my calf this weekend and went to get them checked.  The doctor is 99% sure that’s what it is.  I have to get a sonogram to confirm. Did mom have that?  Fuck!  Getting old sucks!

Teresa:  Well, yes she did, as do I.  But I didn’t think it was worth a dr. appt.  What will they do about them?  Are they dangerous or something?  FUCK YES, I hate getting old.

Mike:  He did not seemed concerned at all and what I can find online seems to say the same thing.  I think there are some cosmetic procedures to make them look better, but I will probably pass because looking good in heels is down on my list of worries.

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Enjoy your Fourth of July.  Here are the Crazie Town safety rules from last year, just in case you need them.

Anatomy of an Aunt

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I recently committed to visiting my Aunt Betty Lou every other week in her nursing home.  Wait, before you oooh and aaah over how sweet that is, I have an ulterior motive — I always come back with a great story for Crazie Town.  This visit was no exception.

When I arrived I found her in the dining room – by herself – waiting for supper.  It was 3:00 in the afternoon.  I said hello.

“OH!  I’m so glad to see you!”  She smiled and clapped her hands together.

“Me too,” I said.

“Now, remind me who you are again?”  Fortunately the smile remained on her face even after we cleared that up.

It was a beautiful day so I asked if she wanted to go for a walk.

Her eyes got wide and she said, “Are you crazy?”

Once I explained that I’d be doing the walking and that she’d be riding in her wheelchair, she decided it was a splendid idea.  I pushed her through the nearest exit, which sounded the alarm.

She said “Keep moving!”  So I did.

A few years ago, the nursing home installed a gazebo and “pond.”  (Being a farm girl, I have to put that in quotes as a pond is something four times as large, but I digress.)  We rolled out to the gazebo and I set the locks on her wheels.

We sat in silence for several minutes while I struggled to find something to talk about.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” I asked.

“The other day the tree trimmers came.”    (I’ve learned over the years that although we’re having one conversation she reserves the right to switch it to a new subject at any time.)

“Tree trimmers, you say?” I asked politely.

“Yes, they worked all day, cutting down limbs.”  She gazed around at the trees and smiled.  “And then the next morning when I woke up, the nurses had covered me in tree limbs.”

“Uh huh…wait, what did you say?”

“Yep.  Tree limbs.  They thought it would be funny.”

A million thoughts zoomed through my head.  “Would someone really think that would be funny?  Did it actually happen or was she confused?  If it was true, was my aunt some sort of favorite patient that they joked with?”  But she was already on to the next conversation.

“One time at work a woman came in asked for her check.”

Aunt Betty Lou worked for about 100 years at the Topeka City Clerk’s office.  I really had no idea what her job entailed so I answered, “That’s nice.”

She screwed up her face.  “We don’t give people checks at the City Clerk’s office!”

“Oh.  Well, I guess she was in the wrong place then.”

“I told her I didn’t have any check for her and she said I did.  I told her I didn’t and she said if I didn’t give her the check she was going to cut out my gizzard.  Right away my supervisor called the mayor’s office, who sent down his guard.  And then guess what happened?”

“I don’t know, what?”

“Well, all I can say is – she doesn’t have her check, and…”Aunt Betty Lou leaned back in her wheelchair and patted her stomach.  “…and I still have my gizzard.”

Now, I’m no doctor so when I got home I looked up to see where a person’s gizzard is exactly.  Turns out, only birds have gizzards.  Then again, maybe Aunt Betty Lou is part bird and she really did wake up in the tree limbs.

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I don’t want to threaten you or anything, but if you don’t give me a subscribe or share, or a “LIKE” I might have to cut out your gizzard.

Oh yeah, thanks for visiting Crazie Town!