Another birthday,... big deal. So what. What difference does it make,... really?
For years I have felt too young. Married early, started the family soon thereafter, always playing catch-up. I'm often the youngest among my friends. Never feeling quite old enough, or grown up enough. Perhaps "mature" is the word I'm reaching for here?
So when I get a call from the Doctor's office telling me that my cholesterol is elevated enough that they want me to start medication to bring it down, and my first reaction was, "No way!" I assumed it was because I know that my diet is decently healthy, I'm exercising as much as I can, and my genetics are against me.
Then it occurred to me. Deep in the recesses of my conscience I consider those who take medication for chronic, well... anything, must be... old.
Surely that's not lingering back there! Some kind of fear of aging? What's up with that?! I've always looked forward to growing up- and certainly don't feel as if I've arrived at that particular destination! Even if I have, I've anticipated it, longed for it, hoped and waited for it! I even stopped coloring my gray hair out of my delight in appearing- to strangers anyway- wise and mature. (worth a shot!) To be fearful in any way seems wrong somehow.
But now I am taking a medication designed to lower my cholesterol. Every night. The prescription will last for 6 months, at which time we'll check the old pipes again for buildup.
So I'm 42, I have a 22 year-old son followed by 4 other children, I'll soon have a son-in-law... Whether I act like it or not, whether I feel like it, I have arrived!