Humbling Lessons During Vulnerable Times

Being sick is a different experience as an elder.

I remember when I was younger that I hardly paid attention to those times when I would wake up not feeling well. Maybe a cold, or the flu. No big deal. It will pass. I’ll be fine. 

It’s not the same these days. I am not the same.

I woke up several days ago with a deep cough that hurt my chest with each cough. No other symptoms, such as a runny nose or fever. Uh-oh, I thought. Could this be COVID?

Straight away I went to take a COVID test. Negative. I felt grateful.

A cold doesn’t seem to ever feel like it could just be a cold anymore these days. COVID has changed our world view.

 And aging changes it as well.

Hmmm, I thought. I have been hearing about this thing called RSV. That’s one vaccine that I have not received yet. 

I made a call to my doctor’s office. I talked with an advice nurse, who set me up for a phone appt with a doctor (my primary care doctor had no openings at the time). The doctor called, and I described my symptoms.

“Let’s get you a chest x-ray”, she said. “To rule out some things, like TB, nodules, tumors, etc. Especially since you have a history of asbestos exposure. And you’re 70.”

It’s scary when they name all the things that they are looking for, and how that seems to change and increase with aging. 

The x-ray came back negative. I was grateful.

“Let’s try an inhaler for a bit to see if that helps calm your lungs.” the doctor went on. “This one has a steroid in it, so make sure that you rinse out your mouth well after each use.” Yikes. Ok. 

My cough is still here, although my chest doesn’t hurt nearly as much with each cough. And the cough, I think, is becoming more productive, which seems to me to be a good thing. 

I am humbled by how different this experience is, the waking up not feeling well and having to address it differently than when I would give it time to pass before I called anyone. 

My body is more fragile now. I must pay attention to the fact that things can be more serious if you are an elder. And I need to call the doctor when I might have waited before. 

The things that they are looking for are different. Elders die more frequently from the flu. I had my flu shot, but that doesn’t guarantee anything. 

I become more acutely aware of the fact that I live alone and that if things need to be done, it’s up to me. Not to say that I don’t have a lovely neighbor, who I am grateful for, that does check in on me via email to see if I am ok. We watch each other’s houses to make sure that there are still signs of life. That never was needed before. We laugh about it, but it’s needed, since we both live alone. 

I have other lovely friends who check on me via text and email as well. I appreciate them all. I feel cared about. That touches me even more deeply when I am feeling more vulnerable. 

Aging brings a deeper awareness of the reality of mortality. We don’t know which bullet will get us, but there will come a time when we can’t dodge the one with our name on it.

I am grateful to be alive, grateful for the health that I have been blessed with so far. Grateful for each new day and each breath.

And I am so much more aware of needing to be more vigilant and pay closer attention to this precious body of mine and when it seems to be having trouble. I can no longer brush it off casually, thinking that all will be well soon enough. 

When we don’t feel well, and we live alone, that can really intensify the feelings of loneliness and disconnection. The need to rest and isolate, which, for the most part is not something that bothers me. I enjoy my solitude and living alone.

This has a different flavor to it when you’re sick. I feel more vulnerable. Not feeling as strong to handle everything. Some anxiety creeping in about possibilities of what may be going on. And an increasing awareness of the growing fragility that aging brings, if we are lucky enough to reach elderhood. 

Lessons to keep learning?

We need community and a support system. I, who have been fiercely independent, must begin to relinquish that rigid version of myself and allow the support and kindness of others. Admit that I need help sometimes, and that this may only increase with age.

We need to pay closer attention to our bodies and what they tell us. It no longer works to just ignore things and hope that they will go away. Maybe yes, maybe no.

Pay attention to each moment of your life, as there are fewer ahead of you than behind you.

Appreciate each phase of life and this aging journey and what you can still do. And humbly adapt to things that you may no longer be able to do, at least not with the same ease of youth.

Allow time for healing. Ironic, isn’t it? The awareness of less time left and yet the need to allow more time for things.

Treat yourself kindly and gently, as you would a dear friend. Gone are the days of pushing yourself and bulldozing through things. And that’s ok. Maybe even a good thing, this slowing down and noticing things more and giving them the time that they need, that you need.

Keep breathing through all the feelings that come up, the anxieties, the fears. It’s ok. You can feel them and keep breathing. Keep living. 

For me, letting myself do things that I find healing also helps. Like working with art. Like writing this article. Reaching out to all of you to make contact, and to feel a part of this community. It helps to know that others are on the path with us along the way. To feel a bit less alone for a few moments. You matter to me, and I am grateful to be part of this community and grateful for each and every one of you.