Officially Old

Three days into the week and two weeks before my 69th birthday, I now know I am officially old and destined for a care home!

It all started on Monday morning when I went to the doctors to ask when I could expect to receive an appointment to the Ophthalmologist ( my optician had requested a referral on 13th June but more of that another time). At the reception desk I was confronted by a callow youth who looked all of 12 and not exactly someone I felt I wanted to give all my confidential information.

He seemed a bit taken aback when I said, “Who are you?” and mumbled something about being a receptionist. Of course he couldn’t deal with my enquiry and had to get someone else to do it in the end. I wasn’t too happy with the surgery as it was and having to deal with a pre-pubescent ‘yoof’ just made me even more dissatisfied.

The day got even worse! In the middle of the afternoon a fire engine pulled up outside and two firemen came to the door and asked to inspect my smoke alarm. They were very pleasant and passed the smoke alarm although they said I should hoover it inside as it was a bit dusty! They then gave me a leaflet on fire safety and said they would refer me to Age UK. I pointed out that I was quite active and could wash and dress myself despite being of more mature years but apparently it’s part of the service to the elderly!

My son called in that evening to fix the door bell and decided I needed a telling off for not joining in more activities! I am not a joiner-in! I am very happy with my own company and after years of working hard and bringing up two children on my own, I now like my quiet and, maybe to others, mundane life.

You’d think that was enough to make me feel really ancient but no; last evening a bloke came to the door and asked if I’d received the information pack about a telephone line upgrade. I replied that I hadn’t received anything about it. He looked at me as if I was lying, said “It’s green and black and was sent last Wednesday”. I assured him that I had received no such communication to which he replied in a tone as if he was addressing a toddler, “Are you sure you haven’t thrown it away?” My response was quite swift, “I may have grey hair”, I said, “but I’m not stupid!”. He was lucky I didn’t deck him!

So if I needed any reminding of the passage of time, I’ve had it all this week or is there more to come? Will Age UK be next to come and see if I need incontinence pads?

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