Please don’t get me wrong. I am grateful for every single
day I’m blessed with Life on this Earth.
I didn’t mind 30. I’d just had TLC—she was the BEST GIFT EVER.
I wasn’t going to mind 40. (I got to plan my own Surprise Party—Ha!) But then I
was diagnosed with breast cancer six weeks later. I had a modified radical
mastectomy of my left breast and six chemo treatments over the next four
months. Spent five more years on Tamoxifen (nicknamed chemo-in-a-pill—it was
only tough the first three weeks and then it leveled out). That’s how I
remember 40. Breast cancer.
50? It’s not that I was upset about it. I really just
couldn’t believe I was there. I didn’t feel
like a 50-year-old person. Whatever the heck that feeling is, I suppose. I went
totally deaf in my left ear at 54. No explanation. No treatment. Can’t even
wear a hearing aide. There’s nothing left to “aide.” Was grateful it wasn’t both
my ears. Had my first broken bone at 55.
Broke my right wrist (I’m right-handed, of course.) falling down in our shower
one morning. (I was in a HUGE hurry to meet two high school friends, in Ft.
Worth
Now, sixty? Hasta la vista, fifties. Sixty! I’m ready for you. BRING IT ON.
(Feel free, at this point, to practice singing me the
Birthday Song, okay?)
Smooches and hugs from a Senior Citizen in Texas
