I’m Learning How To Grow Old…

From the moment I fell in my garden and couldn’t get up and lie in the dirt for over 30 minutes before someone could help me (I had my cell phone in my pocket but all my neighbors were at work or they were 90 and I’d likely have pulled her down and she would have broken a hip or something trying to help me!) the writing was on the wall. That was July 2019 just after I turned 65 on April 30. Thank God I couldn’t read that writing or I just might have jumped off the roof and ended it there. But it was the impetus for me to order a “Fall Button” and their services. Remember how we all used to laugh at those pitifully done commercials, “I’ve fallen, and I can’t get up!” The thing is we weren’t laughing at that poor lady but the quality was so poor there’s just no way you couldn’t burst out laughing, it was on a par with cheesy used car salesman commercials.

Today it is almost October 2023. The thing is I went downhill so fast it was shocking to everyone, not just me. I had very bad feet. I had broken them both falling down a staircase in 2004 and was in 2 casts for a year (The E.R. doctor said, “Honey, you didn’t “break” your feet, you SHATTERED them). I got out of the casts and was on crutches and fell and re-broke one of my feet. I had a very large tumor in the arch of my foot, like the size of a grapefruit and that surgery was awful and it was another year before I could walk unaided. Then I got neuropathy in my feet and it got really bad really fast. I don’t have the kind like some people do who experience a lot of nerve pain with their neuropathy, I have numbness in both feet which got progressively worse. It was kind of like having 2 blocks of nothing for feet. That did not bode well and I started taking a series of falls too close together so my doctor, increasingly concerned, ordered in-home physical therapy for me which was covered by Medicare. They ordered my first “Rollator Walker” which helped a lot but I was still falling, in constant pain, and getting worse faster than I could realize it was happening.

Autumn 2022 I had gotten so bad I could barely get around with the rollator, was still having falls, was in a lot of pain, and, frankly, scared to death. My doctor ordered more in-home physical therapy for me, an occupational therapist, an “aide” who came in twice a week to bathe me (I sat naked on the closed toilet seat and she washed me well all over, washed my hair, etc. I was mortified, but it felt good to be clean. We could not risk my falling in the shower.) In short, if I fall, I simply CANNOT get up, no way, no how. I am now the little old lady people were laughing at in the “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up,” commercial which has longsince not been on anymore but if it was and I saw someone laugh at it I think I might slap them senseless.

By the end of 2022 I had my 2nd, serious blood clot (from my groin to my ankle) and am on blood thinners for life, physical therapy was started again, and having driven only once in the last year only to go to the doctor, and it was awful because my feet and legs had become so bad I could hardly get in my car. It was a Honda Element and it’s a high step up into that car. I had a hard time navigating the pedals and it was the last time I ever drove. I could only think of not being able to get my foot on the brake and killing myself and worse someone else, or a little child or a dog or… No. I sold my car that week. It’s a funny thing about that, a great many older people fight not to give up their car. My 13 year old car only had 1700 miles on it and was always garaged. It was in mint condition and they don’t make Elements anymore. Honda was thrilled to buy it because people were still begging for Elements. I am, you see, on top of, now, old and rickety, a woman who has had lifetime mental health issues due to longterm childhood trauma and I have been agoraphobic for over 20 years. I only drove to the doctor or grocery store. Now I can do neither.

It was at that point that my life began to change rapidly. I love my house and didn’t want to go to a facility of some sort for old people. (And have no money to afford a nice one. My entire house has been rearranged for my safety.) Not in my 60’s. AND in 2014 my house burned down and I lost nearly everything, physical goods and financially, had to give up health insurance and more than I can even remember today. Thank God my daughter Rachel helped me find all kinds of services, the low income clinic, free therapy for low income people (and I got the best therapist in the universe who I still see weekly today) and so much more. This is going to be in my book because what makes me so angry I could explode is that there are a lot of older people suffering who have Medicare and have NO idea how many services they could access for free. It is mind-blowing. I now have “Meals on Wheels” (that started after I got 2nd degree burns all the way up my arms because I have to sit in my rollator to do anything in the kitchen, I can’t stand for long,) and hot oil splashed and I tell you giving birth to 3 babies was nothing compared to those burns and my arms are scarred for life) and a lady who comes once a week to do “light housekeeping,” paid for by the state. And my Social Worker, who arranged those things, is helping me with a thousand other things and helping me understand what is available to me.

All of these things and more are what the backbone of my my book is about, but much more than that. Living through the days old and disabled, but also all the joys, all the wonderful things still possible for you, and there are so many more than you could begin to realize.

I have been working on a book, a different kind of book, since I started my Patreon account 3 years ago to help fund writing my book, but every step along the way I was becoming increasingly more disabled, in constant pain, and yet I’ve barely missed much time at all getting content out to my Patrons, and even for $5 a month you are helping me buy the art and office supplies that I need, my groceries, and take care of my beloved Molly, my Emotional Support Dog. Let me tell you when you have lifelong mental health issues + increasing disability + you are growing older and able to do less and less, this kind of support is life-saving. No frou frou items or trips around the world as some Patreon creators are doing who have thousands of followers. I currently have 15 and God bless everyone of them. They are my people, and I am now able to create more content for them than I was before when I could “do” more things physically. I have been doing a 45 minute (or so) podcast for my Patrons on Sundays for over 6 months now. They contain everything under the sun and more and are a lifeline to the world for me. (All the things my Patrons get are listed up in the right-hand column.) I have only left my house once this year to go to the doctor and the year before I could still, though not very well, drive myself to the doctor which I can no longer do. There are numerous places a senior citizen or disabled person can get free transportation for doctor’s visits. There is so much more on so many levels but I can’t put it all in a blog posts. My Patrons get information as soon as I do, they know everything! And it is all in the book I am writing, but last week, in the middle of the night, I was awakened as if by a lightning bolt with the knowledge that what my book was really supposed to be about (and some of the content I’ve already written will be part of it) learning how to grow old. Let me explain.

What hit me, as a a mother of 3 and grandmother of 5 with another baby on the way now, is that when we are raising children most of those growth patterns are predictable for a healthy child. Some may sit up or walk or talk sooner or later than others but they are all going to do these things at some point, and many more things, they are a given since the dawn of time. And adolescents have certain phases and teens others and then they go off to college and one day, given their choices, may marry and have children or not, and then they are off on their own journey. We have all had a golden thread running through us all that didn’t tell us everything and exactly what would happen when but gave us an idea what was to come.

THERE ARE NO SUCH GUIDELINES FOR GETTING OLDER, BECOMING DISABLED, OR DYING. (There are medical text books for some things but I cannot make rhyme or reason of them. And I’ve read lots of beautiful books on death and dying, but I don’t seem to be quite there yet and nobody out there seems to tell you what to do “between-the-whiles.”)

I am a lifelong gardener, garden writer, and garden designer. Today I cannot even step outside my front door much less go out into the garden. It absolutely broke my heart. There have been more losses at this point than I can count, and the thing is there is no way to have any kind of reasonable “chart” to portend the coming changes as we get older and eventually, at 70 or 110, die. Aging happens in a different manner for a thousand different reasons, for everyone, so how do you plan ANYTHING? The answer is, you can’t. And that may be and is a very hard thing. I always thought I would be a little old lady in her 80’s or even 90’s pottering around in my garden. Some people at that age still play tennis, travel, climb mountains, do all kinds of amazing things, and yet perfectly healthy people who eat a “perfect” diet, workout regularly, run marathons, etc, drop dead at 30. There are people who smoked and drank all their lives and lived to over 100. The thing is, no matter how old anyone is, we are all getting older and none of us knows what is going to happen when, and how to cope. I’m here to tell you that there are many things you can do, even as I took another fall this week and 2 EMT’s and 4 firemen had to come and get me up I didn’t need the firemen before, that’s on Patreon.). I have now fallen 3 times in 3 months, tore a toenail completely off in the black of night with no power during a hurricane (Ew was that gross. I had one little emergency lantern and could barely see but I cleaned up my toe as best I could, Put neosporin on it, and bandaged it all up, used most of a roll of paper towels trying to clean up as much as I could of the pools of blood everywhere (when you are on blood thinners when you bleed YOU BLEED!) and when I got up the next day was horrified to see that my tiny bathroom looked like a crime scene. (I may or may not be watching an excessive amount of true crime these days.🙄) When my emergency crew came Tuesday morning they braced my bare feet on top of theirs as they pulled me up and something on top of their boots cut the underside of the toe — of course, the one with the falling off toenail) as two EMT’S helped me to the bathroom I could hear one of the firemen yell, “OH MY GOD, SHE’S BLEEDING.” I rolled my eyes and looked over my shoulder at the snail like slime trail of blood all the way into the bathroom. All I could think was, “Oh CRAP, figures…”

In the end they got my toe cleaned up and taken care of, they cleaned up all the blood, they got me settled back into my chair, checked my vitals and all the things they do to make sure you’re still alive, and finally asked if there was anything else they could do. I said, well, only one thing. Molly is my emotional support dog and she always sleeps up in the chair with me. I need someone to get her up here with me. They all had blank stares on their faces which the blood had drained out of. Mind there were like 6 GIANT men and Molly is the size of a teacup. When they came in she went and hid behind the recliner and didn’t make a sound (Thanks Molly, you’re supposed to be my evil, vicious attack dog!) but when it came to getting her up with me all the men were terrified. I said “She doesn’t bite,” and that may be true for friends and family visiting but my God, it looked like a whole army of giant men here in my little bedroom. Only one braved the tiny beast and as soon as he started getting close to her she bared her teeth and started making the most outrageously frightening noise I’ve ever heard. Something between a growl, a bark, and guttural sounding noise that sounded very like, “Step back young man, you have 5 seconds before you lose your face!” He jumped back about 10 feet and they all stared at me, horror struck. I had to try hard not to chuckle.

I told them I appreciated them so much and thanked them for their help and said “If you can just turn out the light and shut the door so she can’t get out.” And they thanked me profusely and were out of here lickety split. As soon as the front door closed with a bang Molly came running to me jumping up (she’s too little to jump all the way up into my lap) but I reached down, hoping not to tumble over on my head, and got her. We girls settled in and cozied up and kissed a lot and then we went back to sleep after I took some tylenol, and I’ll be completely honest, my anxiety medication too. My nerves were SHOT!

This is “A Day In The Life Of…” but the book will be more like “A Year In The Life Of,” replete with an extensive resource section. I have suffered terribly but ended up getting help I never knew existed. And I don’t have money, this is mostly Medicare, State Funded programs and more. My social worker and others are going to help me compile an extensive list.

And remember, no matter how old you are, we’re ALL getting older, we never know what might happen when, and sadly something may happen to us physically that leaves us disabled while we still may live many years. I made a decision some time ago. I could live in a perpetual pity party, or I could keep working and finding and doing more and more things that make me happy and bring me joy. The picture at the top I drew of me, living in my cocoon, with a whole world outside, but you know what? I’m making a magical world here to make my days happier. And I still fall down and get hurt and screwy things happen and I never take my fall pendant off. I think it may not be long before I need a wheelchair, but I won’t let myself think about that. Right now I am writing and illustrating my book with the help of my Patrons, and while snails may be passing me on the road of life, I can still get around in my house and I’m okay, happy even.

If you would like to join Patreon (It’s on a sliding scale. Most people have several tiers with different rewards. I decided to have one main tier, a $5 minimum, and give everything I make to everyone and let them pay what they can afford. Many pay more because they like the content and want to help. Trust me, I’m as grateful for $5 as I am for $50. For me, while I surely do need the financial support, the PEOPLE being there supporting and loving me and helping me in more ways than I can count have saved me over and over again. I deeply love and appreciate them all.

A closing note is that I plan to get back to blogging twice a month (I hadn’t since June) and will post them on Social Media + they will be here on my blog. I really do want to stay in touch with you all, it’s just that I have so little energy and Patreon and my work there take precedence, that is the only place you will see me several times a week. I have very little energy to answer email or messages online, with the exception of my Patrons on Patreon.

Blessings and love to one and all. I’ve missed you. A lot.