Ignore the signs of aging? photo: Lorie Sheffer archives

I had the TV on a few weeks ago, mostly as background noise, as I was restoring a piece of vintage furniture. The conversation grabbed my attention when I heard a 45 –year-old woman talking about having a baby. Looking at least 10 years younger than her age she was adamantly stating that she could, at any time she wanted, conceive a child. Undeterred by the fertility experts that said while they agreed she looked younger than her chronological age, her reproductive system didn’t care; while conceiving a child at her age is certainly possible, it is not as probable as this woman thought it to be. Her reply to them was, “But LOOK at me!” This brought to mind last years’ Real Housewives of NY (my guilty pleasure) shocker, 55-year-old Ramona Singer’s “pregnancy scare”. When a fellow housewife suggested that perhaps Ramona was “late” because she was in perimenopause, the response was one of complete denial that this was an even remote possibility.

Flash forward to Super Bowl Sunday. I sat in awe of 53-year-old Madonna’s age defying halftime performance. Clearly this is a woman who works out. My same aged female friends and I were being both self-deprecating and self aware in our assessment. One friend commented that gee, if we looked like that we would have to trade in our husbands, who rage in age from 50 to 60, for a younger man, as Madonna is now reportedly dating a…… wait for it…….. 24-year-old man. My reply? NO THANKS! My son is 27!

It’s not hard to see a pattern of denial of age in today’s culture. Age denial, I feel, is very different from taking care of ourselves and wanting to remain active and healthy. I’m not judging women, or men for that matter, who want to stop the clock on aging. I’ll admit, I was ready to go for some Botox injections on the vertical lines between my brows. My dear friend, who had already had the procedure, stopped me in my tracks. She assured me that it did indeed feel like she had been attacked right smack in the face by a swarm of angry hornets. While her lines did smooth out, they were back in a few months.

Which leads me to a wonderful book I read a few years ago. “Healthy Aging: A Lifelong Guide to Your Physical and Spiritual Well-Being”, by Andrew Weil, M.D. I’m usually not one of those self help book types, and I have an aversion to fame doctors. However, I like Dr Weil’s application of traditional medicines used in conjunction with preventive, no nonsense self care. In his book, he says, “Plastic surgery cannot fix what is happening inside your body; it can only dull the sharpness of the reminder.” He goes on to say that while he is not against cosmetic surgery, especially when it is reconstructive, one does need to proceed with caution. Even though we may appear to be younger the fact is we cannot stop the aging process. Sometimes those signs, like gray hair and a few wrinkles, are a reminder for us to change our approach. What was appropriate for us at age 25 may no longer be appropriate or even healthy for us at age 55. We may have to modify our plan of action by choosing activities that are gentler to our aging joints. We may need more rest, and we may not be able to get away with some of the unhealthy behaviors we could slide by with in our youth.

I e-mailed my daughter-in-law about the vintage furniture I am restoring for her and my son. I needed to know if she wanted me to remove the finish, as some of it had gotten that crazed, alligator skin texture due to age. Also, there are a few mars from wear. She said no; she felt that removing the signs of age would remove the story of the piece. Removing the imperfections would also remove the character, and if I did that then she may as well just go out and buy new pieces. The small chips, scratches and slightly worn finish were what made these pieces special. Wise young woman, my son’s wife.

You can find more of Lorie’s 2012 posts by clicking midlife and her pre-2012 posts by clicking aging.

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Gracie Feb 4, 2012 (photo: Lorie Sheffer)

I’m writing this on Saturday morning, at 1:49 AM. I have only slept about 4 hours since Wednesday night, when my cat, Gracie, got out of the house. We brought her in as a stray almost exactly a year ago. Wednesday was unseasonably warm, and I asked my husband to open a window for some fresh air while I was restoring some antique furniture. He forgot that in the fall I had put the screens up. Cats are curious, and about an hour later we were trying to coax Gracie from under the deck. She bolted, as frightened cats will do, and vanished into thin air.

We stayed up all night, calling out into the night and printing out flyers. We canvassed the neighborhood and set food out for her. Nothing. I am rather severely claustrophobic, but I crawled under decks on my stomach, hitting my head on the supports. I have the bruised, swollen knees and cuts to prove it.

My life hasn’t been so easy over the past years. I know that we all have our losses and challenges, but it seems that I was dealt so much, and all at once. My cats are my comfort. I always say that I am only a pair of smelly terry cloth scruffs and a flower printed housedress away from being The Crazy Cat Lady. Little by little, my faith has eroded. I just spoke to Jeff about how I feel that praying is like having a conversation with myself.

Tonight we were taking cat-watching shifts. Gary was sleeping on the sofa and I was texting my daughter. She asked if I was still calling for Gracie. I said, “This is like praying- you keep calling but you never get even the slightest response. Which leads you to the conclusion you’re just talking to yourself.” She replied, “But what if she DOES hear you?” I shot back, “I have lost faith. If she comes home that will be an unexpected surprise. But I don’t think she ever will.”

With that, I went to the patio door and called into the night for what seemed like the thousandth time. The neighbors must love me! This time I thought I heard a faint meow. I called again. Nothing. I called yet again, thinking I had probably heard our other cat meowing from the dining room. This time I heard a louder sound from the back yard. I woke Gary and told him to come listen. After several more calls back and forth, I saw her walking toward me. She circled the pool cover a few times and then ran into my arms.

I am happy to report, I have found Grace.

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Photo: Lorie Sheffer

As we age, we lose our sensation of thirst. I was surprised to learn that, but trust that it’s true, as the information came from a nephrologist. Dehydration is all too common among the elderly, and it can have devastating affects. One of the reasons older folks become dehydrated is because they don’t feel thirsty, and when they do drink they don’t drink nearly as much. Sometimes not wanting to get up to use the bathroom during the night is another reason they tend not to want to drink enough water.

Our bodies are about 60%-70% water. In fact, our brains are closer to 90% water. If we feel the thirst sensation, we are already slightly dehydrated. Often times when we are feeling fatigued it is because we are in need of water. Dehydration can also be the cause of headaches. In fact, that is really what a hangover is.

As we age, we are less able to distinguish the difference between thirst and hunger. Often times we will eat a snack, when all we really needed was a glass of water. If saving those calories isn’t enough to make us want to pour a beverage, then maybe pain reduction is. Drinking more water can mean less muscle and joint pain. One time I complained about how difficult it was for the technicians to find a vein when I go for those early morning, after 12-hour fast, blood tests. My son suggested I try drinking a full glass of water before heading to the lab. Sure enough, it worked!

Since we loose that sensation of thirst as we age, and we as mid-lifers are aging, then maybe getting into the habit of drinking more water would be something we should start to work on now. In fact, as we work on breaking those bad habits, replacing them with good habits would make things easier. Replacing that afternoon candy bar with a tall glass of iced green tea would seem as if we weren’t depriving ourselves, but rather swapping treats. A tall icy glass of water with a few slices of cucumber is surprisingly refreshing. If it’s chilly outside, then a pot of tea, made the British way with loose tea in a pretty teapot, can seem like a luxury. At least if we have to have that cookie we can have it the old fashioned way, with a big glass of cold low fat milk. If we really do just want to eat a snack, then at least we can make it something that has a high water content, like watermelon or other juicy fruit.

Out of all of the things on our “should do” list, drinking more water or liquids is one of the easiest. No excuses.

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Photo: Lorie Sheffer

In today’s world, lack of sleep is almost like a badge of honor. People proudly declare their ability to function on much less than the recommended 8 hours, as if this somehow makes them less lazy than the rest of us. If we are up all night it adds to the martyrdom of the overworked and underappreciated.

In an effort to keep this post from reaching epic lengths, I suggest that Googling the phrase “lack of sleep” will lead to you some very interesting information on the effects of sleep deprivation. An example of one thing I learned is this; Driving while sleep deprived can actually make you less safe than driving while intoxicated. Not many people would think that driving under the influence of alcohol is a good idea, and yet they will drive under the influence of sleep deprivation.

We live in a culture that doesn’t place much value on sleep. Jeff told me of his summer job working at a paper mill. He worked the dreaded swing shift, which consisted of 7AM-3PM, then a week of 11PM-7AM, followed by 3PM-11AM. 7 days a week, all summer long. (DUDE! No WONDER we didn’t see much of you at the pool!) My son is a first year medical resident, and his hours are not much different than Jeff’s were at that paper mill. He will work several weeks of night shifts, followed by a weekend of days, then a week of night shift, followed by a weekend of days. It’s difficult to become acclimated when the hours are so irregular. In his case, he resorts to blacking out the windows of his guest room during the day, and puts a priority on getting at least 8 hours of sleep a night.

Sleep is restorative. It is when the body repairs itself. The harmful physical effects of lack of sleep are very real. We NEED to sleep. It keeps us more clear- headed, our moods more even, and it even helps our appearance. And yet so many of us don’t make it a priority. Yes, it is important to exercise. Yes, it is important to be productive in our lives. But we are much better able to do that with the proper rest. During a particularly stressful period of my life, I wound up so run down from lack of sleep that I ended up in my doctor’s office. One of the first things he asked me was how much sleep I was getting. I told him that I didn’t have a choice but to wake up with the 6AM alarm. He reminded me that even if waking time wasn’t within my control, bedtime was. I said that I tried really hard to force myself to relax and sleep, and he came back with something that was so logical and so basic that it kind of shocked me. He said we can’t force ourselves to sleep; we must ALLOW ourselves to sleep.

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