Sunday, May 23, 2010
Everything's thinning - except me
The early results of the survey indicate that women find one element of middle-age particularly annoying, and that is (insert drum roll): deteriorating health or, as many put it, those little aches and pains. So far 42% of respondents have nominated this as the single worst thing about middle-age, while weight gain comes second at 15%. And boy do I sympathise.
At some stage, probably at around the age of fifteen when I was particularly obnoxious, I formed the assumption that my health and/or fitness would never be an issue. I'm not sure on what evidence I based this but I packaged it up and carried it around for the next thirty odd years. At which point fate stepped in and tripped me up (perhaps I should sue). Now it seems like barely a week goes past without a fresh niggle, and sometimes I head off to the doctor's with a veritable list. Last Monday alone I started off at the gynaecologist where he informed me (rather brusquely, I thought) that my uterine walls were thinning, after which I paid a visit to the orthopaedic surgeon where he told me that my knee cartilage was thinning. And then I finished the day at the hairdresser's where, after some muttering, she intimated that my hair was thinning - and looked at me oddly when I started laughing (admittedly with an ever-so-slight tinge of hysteria). But, honestly! How ridiculous. I started the day off quite cheerfully and finished it with thin hair, cartilage and uterus. Sort of like a hat (which no doubt I'll soon need given the hair situation) trick. But my question is that if everything is thinning so industriously, then why am I the least-thin I've ever been in my life? How does that work? And, more importantly, who can I complain to?