|Hawkwind, ca. 1998, when he still had his hearing (and his hair.)|
It hasn't been the best of weeks so far, in a "health and wellness" sense.
My weight has stopped dropping (still stuck at 224), my knee has flared back up after a few weeks of glorious pain-free exercise, and, tomorrow, I get to go have my hearing checked.
Wait, what does that last one have to do with weight loss?
Nothing, really. But it is the physical symptom that is bothering me the most right now.
Decades of playing rock and roll on very small stages in front of very loud amplifiers (and drummers) have left me with not-so-great hearing. While hanging around the house, this is no big deal - I just turn up the volume or make sure I am watching Lor's lips move while she speaks to me, and waiting for information to arrive via context.
However, out in the world, this has begun to be a problem. While out walking the dog, for example, Lor is invariably a few feet in front of me. While huffing and puffing and trying to keep up with her and Vixen, I will hear something that seems to indicate that she is speaking, but the words come through as something like the background noise at a really loud party. As I can't see her lips, I have no idea what is being said. I tend to say "Mmm-hmm" in a positive inflection a lot. I have no idea what I am agreeing to. Could be that I agree the dog is unusually cute today, could be I just signed off on tearing out all our flooring and replacing it with marble. Who knows?
So, at my latest doctor visit, I mentioned this problem to my physician. My doctor recommended that I go so see an audiologist. My appointment is tomorrow, and I am not looking forward to the results.
The idea of wearing hearing aids is just not appealing to me, I must admit. I have loved ones who rely on them, and it certainly has improved their quality of life. But, they just seem like something for people...older than me.
You know, like slowing metabolic rates are a function of age. And advanced arthritis in the joints is a function of age. Everywhere I turn, my body is gleefully pointing out to me that I am not in my twenties anymore. Not to mention the fact that I am reaping the rewards of a lifetime of abuse that I have heaped on my body. I wish I had enjoyed my thirties more, because I am paying for them now. Sort of like student loans or high-interest credit cards - the consequences last far after the initial purchase.
And, no matter how well I finally do in weight loss, exercise and nutrition from here on out, the fact remains - I am going to keep getting older. My body will keep slowing down. I will have to work harder tomorrow to achieve the results I got yesterday. Things are just going to keep ceasing to function properly. Because no one escapes the ravages of time.
And, soon, I may have the hearing aids to show for it.
Wishing I Had Played Mozart Instead Of Skynyrd,