Weight Loss--Finally!

In my final December post, I mentioned that I intended to lose ten pounds by the end of January. I'm happy to report that I did, and have gone on to lose about twenty more pounds. In all, I've gone from weight hovering near 170 poundds to weight hovering near 140. I haven't been this "light" in years.

All is not perfect. I have lots of skin hanging on my arms, and my big stomach never disappears no matter what. I guess this is old age. I srtill intend to lose ten moire pounds, and that's it. 125 to 130 is an ideal weight for me, and I'll have to live with the hanging skin and the big stomach. If there's a warning here, it is to lose the extra weight before the age of 79 or 80!

My diet has been mostly the Atkins high protein diet. I've varied it occasionally, and allowed myself one dessert per week and an occasional treat, but I don't eat much. For the most part, I stay out of our gourmet dining room and eat in my apartment. My physical condition doesn't allow for much exercise (more on thaat later).

To all of you struggling with weight (as I've done my whole life), I can't recommend myself as much of a role model. I can't resist good food when it's in front of me, so dieting has been a lonely operation. It suits my loner nature, fortunately. Basically, I guess my advice is to learn to eat a lot less, and exercise more, if possible.

I'm back!

Hello! No, I've not been seriously ill (nor have I died). I've just been shut out of my blog for many months, with an indecipherable error message beyond my understanding. Now something seems to have changed, and I'm ready to try again. My 80th birthday is approaching, so I should have something to say about that. Stay tuned.

Reflections on Christmas

Holidays can be difficult for those of us alone, with no nearby family and not a large number of friends. For the past few years, I have traveled to Texas or Oklahoma to spend Christmas with my niece and her family, and it's been wonderful. This year, due to very understandable circumstances, my niece was not able to play hostess, and my limited mobility made me decide to stay at home, here at The Clare.

Lest anyone feel sorry for me, The Clare is a fine place for the holidays: many Christmas trees, concerts and activities, special meals. My niece sent a box of gifts to open on Christmas morning, and they were very much appreciated. I exchanged Christmas cards with some old friends (not as many as in the past, but enough). I had a phone call from one nearby friend, and another came over for lunch before leaving town for her own holiday celebration.

Television provided many cheerful Christmas stories which I enjoyed. While I didnt get out much, I continued to volunteer at the Chicago Cultural Center on Thursday mornings, and was able to enjoy the decoraations and exhibits there.

I even decided to go on the Atkins diet and lose at least ten pounds by the end of January--more on that later.

We have a special New Years Eve dinner and gathering Saturday night, but I may skip those and just enjoy the coming of the new year on TV. My wants are simple, and I don't need a fattening dinner (as nearly all food here is). I'd like to see some snow: it's unusual not to have any here in Chicago yet, but I may regret this wish.

My conclusion? Things are always changing, and I've discovered that I can manage on my own very well. In sone ways it's been a lonely season, but in general, I'm doing fine. Let's hope that continues as I turn 80 next year.

To anyone who reads this: I hope your holidays brought you what you needed and wanted, especially a feeling of peace.

Ramsey Lewis Played for My Birthday!

No, not really, but I did have the opportunity to hear one piano selection by Mr. Lewis today, my 79th birthday.

The real occasion was The Clare's "Joie de Vivre" award presentation, with Ramsey Lewis as this year's winner. The award "recognizes an outstanding senior who has experienced the Joy of Living through his artistic and educational contributions to the next generation and sharing of his talents with the people of the world."

The main entertainment was a jazz combo from the Merit School of Music, with which Lewis has been deeply involved. The pianist, bassist, drummer, and trombonist were wonderful, as, of course, was Lewis' piano solo. After a glass of white wine, I finally began to feel that birthdays aren't so bad after all.

Birthdays without family are generally days I prefer to ignore, but this year's reminded me of the big "80" coming a year from now. Now that sounds old! Getting four birthday cards and many friendly greetings helped. As luck would have it, I met a woman, the mother of a Clare resident, celebrating her 93rd birthday today as well, and she looked quite good. And a fellow resident ten years older than I celebrates tomorrow. This age thing is something to contend with, and I don't always handle it very well. Still, I'll remember this year because of Ramsey Lewis!

Another July 4 Coming Up

As I've told you, I don't care much for holidays. My 4th of July story from childhood has been told here several times; it you're interested, see the archives of this blog. Now that I'm in a building where all holidays are "celebrated," of course I have the option to attend the picnic on the 9th floor outdoor deck. One drawback is that it's likely to be very hot out there, making it necessary to carry food into the adjoining air-conditioned Bistro. Another is that the menu is filled with fattening but tempting goodies such as hamburgers, hot dogs, and pie, among many other things. Having no willpower, I will certainly overeat. The trouble is with me, not the picnic.

How I envy the pencil-thin residents who seem to eat far more than I, yet never gain weight. I'm probably the only one who has been dieting strenuously for over a year with no weight loss whatsoever. My doctor says I should be satisfied that I am not gaining. Small consolation. At what age will I be able to accept my fat body as it is, without resentment? I still dread the comments I always hear at the annual family Christmas gathering. People seem to think that I live on fattening foods. Far from it. Of course I don't get much exercise, but that's out of my control right now. I must have the slowest metabolism in the country. Oh well, I still will have to make up my mind about the picnic. I have plenty to do if I decide not to go. I guess this is just another dilemma of aging. I have always been at least a bit heavy, but this is the first time no diet has worked at all. I've always lost at least a few pounds before. Perhaps it's just too late.

A May Update and a Sad Commentary on Aging

In case anybody is wondering, my cracked kneecap has healed, more or less, and my enforced confinement ended with the month of March. It was a rather depressing time, but somehow, since I had little to do anyway, it didn't matter that much. Anyway, I'm basically O.K. and back to my routine, slight as it is. My doctor said everyone living in a senior facility needs at least three regular obligations to keep life interesting. I have them: my Thursday morning volunteer duties at the Washington Street information desk at the Chicago Cultural Center, my regular Sunday brunch with three fellow residents, and my monthly editorial meeting and the editing process for The Clarion, our resident newsletter. I'm afraid I'm no longer able to take long walks (I haven't been for quite some time), but I'm not entirely a hermit. Of course there are numerous activities here at The Clare, but not all of them interest me. I'd like to add a regular blogging schedule, but so far, I don't seem to have much to write about. Perhaps I'll try harder.

So here goes: last week, the Chicago Tribune published an article entitled, "This Old Soldier Won't Just Fade Away: Pushing 90, vet battles to stay in apartment where he and his wife have lived for years." The story affected me, because I've done a lot of thinking about the plights of old people, many of whom may not be as fortunate as I am.

The veteran in question and his wife have lived in a tiny apartment in a Near North high-rise building for a decade, and now the management wants them out by May 31. The issue apparently is not financial; one stated issue is bedbugs, which the vet claims came from extermination efforts next door. However, the real reason seems to be doubts that the couple, childless, can continue to live in a building that doesn't offer social services or help of any kind. The man's wife is described as having "cognitive impairment" and was found roaming the building halls alone and confused after her husband was briefly hospitalized after a winter fall.

I suspect that situations like this are not rare. According to the couple's lawyer, the old soldier feels disrespected, and doesn't want to move. The management has switched from forced eviction to an offer of a month-to-month lease continuation, allowing their lawyer to find the couple more suitable living quarters, but they don't want to move. With military pride, the vet defends his years of military service and points with pride at the mementos hanging on the walls.

It's impossible not to have synpathy for this man and others like him. What is the answer for old people without relatives to watch over them? Where do individual rights end? Aging is inevitable, and cognitive impairment is more common than we like to believe. So what should happen to old people like this? That's a very big problem our society must face, and those of us with the foresight and the resources to avoid such a situation should consider ourselves lucky. One of the problems of aging seems to be resistance to change, and change is inevitable, in more ways than one.

Cracked?

As a resident of a senior building, I thought I was aware of all the ailments that affect seniors, and there are many. Somehow, I came up with a new one, a cracked kneecap. No, I hadn't fallen; I have no explanation for how it happened.

As you may recall, I had both arthritic knees replaced more than two years ago. All went well, and I have been pain-free. Then I suddenly got pain in my right knee about three weeks ago. I was worried, and the pain did not go away, so I finally called my orthopedic surgeon. There's no such thing as a quick appointment for a non-emergency, so I had a bit of a wait. I finally got in last week. Guess what? The x-rays showed a cracked kneecap. I'd never heard of such a thing. The prescription was to wear a "knee immobilizer" (a big black velcro-equipped wrap that keeps my right knee from bending) for four weeks. It is removable, so fortunately I don't have to sleep in it, but imagine having to stagger around with one unbendable knee!

At the end of the four weeks, I see the doctor again. He is expecting the crack to heal by then. I certainly hope so. Most of the time, I have to sit in my recliner with my legs up, so I'm getting a lot of reading, puzzles, and TV watching done, but little else. I still stagger to the dining room for breakfast every morning, but my usual Thursday morning volunteer assignment is on hold until April. I order groceries and supplies from Pea Pod--I'd forgotten how convenient that is. It's expensive, too, but I don't have much choice. I'm skipping most of the activities here at The Clare because my leg isn't supposed to hang down for too long. More fun!

As someone said, old age is not for the weak.

Admirable or Foolhardy: What Would You Do?

One of the advantages of living in a large continuous care senior residence is the chance to meet fellow seniors of all types. One of the most memorable people I've met here at The Clare is Anne (not her real name). When I first saw her, I assumed that she was near death: shaved head, halting gait, negative attitude. She continued to come to eat breakfast with the Independent Residents, of whom I am one, even though she lived on one of the Assisted Living floors.

When I first met Anne, she was complaining about the trouble of selling her downtown condo, where she had previously lived. This was or had been a problem for many of us during these uncertain economic times. The next thing I heard from her was that she was trying to cancel her contract with a real estate agent and keep the condo; in fact, she planned many improvements and changes to the place, which she obviously loved. I admired her for her forward-looking plans, since she had told me she had terminal bone cancer. She takes an array of serious medications, some of them experimental. She complained often of pain, sleeping problems, night sweats, and other alarming symptoms. One experimental treatment laid her low, so she was forced to discontinue it.

Anne is very intelligent, but like many of us, having trouble dealing with the problems of aging and illness. I started to think about what I would do in her situation (she is the same age as I am, 78). Would I have the courage to make such grandiose (and expensive) plans to move out of a care facility while facing an uncertain and likely brief future? My answer would be no, but I can't fault Anne for her decision. I have never met a cancer sufferer more optimistic and forward-looking, not to mention one having so much energy despite her fragile appearance.

On one hand, I admire Anne for her tenacity. She is very determined (and overly critical of everything, from the food to the service to the staff to other aspects of this relatively comfortable place). Few approve her attituude or understand her desire to move out of this beautiful place. Is she being admiraable or foolhardy? She seemed to enjoy telling me about her struggles with her remodeling contractor to get everything in her condo just right. Yesterday, she finally moved out. However, she confided in me that she knew things would not be the same as they were before.

Even so, all the planning and fretting seemed to keep Anne alive. One of the drawbacks of senior living, especially for those of us with no local family, is the feeling that this is the end, the final move. Of course many healthy seniors here are on the go every moment, but some of us are contented to just relax and enjoy easy living. I do that too much. So I guess I admire Anne more than I condemn her. I wish her the very best, which would include a cure for her cancer. Will it happen? Somehow I doubt it, but Anne is certainly a profile of courage and an example of having plans for the future, even a very uncertain one.

Photo: The Clare, from the Chicago Tribune.

Conferences and the Aging

I attended some parts of the National Federation of Press Women's annual conference, held this year at the Union League Club in Chicago. It was a very successful, well-run conference, with interesting speakers and excellent meals. My main purpose in going was to support the organization, of which I've been a member since 2006, and to receive my third place award for the Clarion, the residents' newsletter that I edit.

This conference reminded me again that I'm old. I can't say I didn't enjoy some parts of it, but I got very tired and overfed, and I skipped one reception, one banquet, and one cocktail party during the two main days of the conference and the evening before. First, I found that the speakers were addressing matters that didn't much concern me: dressing for success, getting a book published, making money. I know that my books will never attract traditional publishers, and the process of finding an agent, writing book proposals, etc., which were spelled out skillfully, just made me tired. I found out long ago that I'm not cut out to be an entrepreneur, and that's what a writer must be to succeed. I enjoy writing, but I just don't have the interest or the ability to promote my work. If I expected the world to come to my door, it just hasn't happened.

Another problem is my hearing. With my state-of-the-art hearing aids, I can hear the amplified speeches (unless the speaker has an unusual accent or mumbles), but the general level of chatter in a large dining room is really annoying. I can't hear colleagues across the table, and I can barely hold a conversation with those nearby because of the background noise. I feel that I miss out on a lot of interesting conversation, and I probably appear either mute or stupid, or both. No, I'm not the oldest member of the group, but some people seem to have retained their mobiity and their hearing much better than I. This conference made me feel a bit sorry for myself.

I wrote last year about problems with that year's NFPW conference in San Antonio. Of course that involved air travel, rainy weather, inappropriate plumbing fixtures, etc., things I avoided this year. Still, I have a feeling that I'm finished with conferences. Conferences are good for the young and agile, and I used to enjoy them very much. Now, they just seem to be too much work. I need a shot of energy--and better hearing.

At least one good thing came out of this conference: I may have been inspired to write more again, mostly just for myself.

Tests, Tests, and More Tests!

It seems that as I've grown older, my spring ritual has included going for all sorts of tests and medical examinations, even when I'm not sick. I no longer have the youthful outlook that nothing will go wrong; I'm always expecting something.

For the last few weeks, I've had appointments with my heaaring aid specialist, my dentist, my internist, and my opthalmologist. I had to make a special trip to have blood drawn, as ordered by my doctor. She also ordererd a stress test, the chemical kind, since I can't necessarily walk on a treadmill long enough and fast enough for the desired result. That is not fun; I've had such a test before, and it requires shots of chemicals, probably dangerous ones, and much waiting.

First, I had a tooth extracted, but since it was in the back of my mouth, I figured I didn't need it. It took a while to recover from the extraction. Now my dentist will want to put in an implant to replace the tooth, but I see no need for that. We'll see. My next visit is coming up.

My new hearing aids seem to be working as well as possible (no hearing aids give perfect hearing), so that was a quick visit. I got new transparent plastic "wires," the ones that go into my ears. So far, so good.

The doctor visit and blood tests didn't turn up anything especially frightening. My cholesteral is up, so I need to take a statin medicine again. My blood pressure was within reason, but the medication may be making me tired, so I'm trying a new one. Now I have to have my blood pressure checked again, but fortunately, I can do that here at The Clare. I got new prescriptions for all six of my meds, so I'm set for another year. I sometimes think it's crazy to take so many, but when I stop one, odd things seem to happen, like the new shoulder pains when I tried stopping Celebrex. Oh, well.

I passed the stress test. The doctors always get a bit uneasy because I have a slightly irregular heartbeat, but so did my mother, and she lived to age 95.

The worst news from a financial standpoint is from the opthalmologist: I need new eyeglasses. Granted, mine are quite old, but they've served me well. Buying three new pair of progressive bifocals (one regular, one spare, one prescrription sunglasses) costs an arm and a leg, even though I don't go for the premiere designer frames. I still haven't filled the new glasses prescription, but I probably will do so next week.

Now I have nothing to worry about until the bills come in: the yearly Medicare deductible will apply. I'm always tempted to skip these yearly tests, but I guess I'm brainwashed by the medical community. I hope that if I do get some dread disease, it will be discovered early and be curable, but then I remember an acquaintance who did fine on his stress test and died of a sudden heart attack soon thereafter. He wasn't even old.

So now I'm all tested and medicated and hoping for a healthy year. But who knows what is in store for me? Getting old is not for the weak.

Facing Reality

It didn't exactly come as a surprise, but one of the features of senior living that I hadn't devoted much thought to is the frequency of loss among this age group. In the year since I've moved in, a few residents of Independent Living have been moved to assisted living or nursing care, and two or three others have died.

None of these people have been close friends; it's just that a semi-familiar face (in one case, a man I've worked with on a resident committee) simply disappears, and is soon mentioned in an administrative publication.

In addition to those cases, the number of people transported to the hospital after falls or other disasters is and always has been impressive. I've signed a lot of get-well cards.

Somehow, when I lived among the younger, such things seldom came to my attention. It's sad but rather different when I hear that some old acquaintance across the country has died. That somehow seems less shocking and more understandable. Of course the main shock comes when a much younger person dies. One of my younger cousins died recently of cancer, but that wasn't entirely unexpected.

Here at The Clare, many residents are in their eighties and nineties (the oldest is over 100). We 70-somethings are getting a lesson on what it means to grow old. Some residents are remarkably active, regardless of age, while some seem to gradually fade away. For some, the deterioration is obvious; for others, all seems well.

All this is a bit hard to handle. All I can do is resolve to stay as active as possible (although my main activity of writing and editing is a rather sedentery one) and remain optimistic. If I live as long as my mother did, I'll have eighteen years left, but If I had followed my father's pattern, I would have died seven years ago. I know which I prefer, but the choice is not really mine.

At any rate, I'm learning to face reality without becoming depressed. I guess that's one of the realities of senior living.

Trying My Best

This is a NuStep cross trainer exercise machine. It is one of two machines from the Clare fitness room that I can use, but unfortunately inertia often sets in and I stay away. I am, at best, a reluctant exerciser.

I'm sold on the value of staying active, but I seem to be the ultimate recliner potato. I am lazy and tend to be inactive. Anyway, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday (barring special appointments and responsibilities) I appear for exercise classes on the 19th floor. The leader, Jan, is wonderful: always complimentary and encouraging no matter what one does or does not manage to do. "Modify this exercise" is her frequent instruction, usually directed to me. Why?

Some parts of the exercise routine are simply impossible for me. For one thing, I cannot raise my right arm; it's been that way since an accident in 1942, followed by another in 1952. By then, my arm was misshapen and nearly useless, although I continue to write with my right hand. Due to arthritis in my shoulders, my left arm can't be raised very far, either. Despite various bouts with physical therapy, arm exercises are a lost cause.

My legs don't work especially well, either. Two knee replacements helped, but I still lack strength and a sense of balance. I'm the one who can't get out of a chair without using my hands, and the one who clings to the back of the chair during most standing exercises.

Fortunately, my fellow senior exercisers are not toned athletes, but some of them, including some of those considerably older than I, do very well indeed. My many unathletic years seem to have caught up with me. I'm overweight and clumsy, even after more than a year of these exercise classes. It bothered me when our oldest resident, age 101, connected to her oxygen tank, did some of the excercises better than I did.

Many times, I've thought about discontinuing my participation in the exercise program. Still, I keep going. This is one area in which I cannot be a perfectionist, but I'm conquering my embarrassment and trying my best. Some movement is undoubtedly better than none! I'm reminded again, though, that old age is not for the weak. And I'll try to visit my favorite exercise machine regularly soon!

More on Senior Travel

I've noted a lot of concern about the new air safety rules. On my recent trip to Tulsa (or actually on the way home) I was exposed to a full-body scan for the first time. Actually, it was easier for me than the usual pat-down brought on by my two knee replacements always setting off the alarm.

Privacy? Perhaps younger people feel differently, but I just don't care. My ugly, misshapen body is sure to be ignored once explosives are ruled out, and I'm sure no one will bother to look further. Yes, all these security measures are a bother, but they seem necessary. Safe flights are a high priority for me. Such things wouldn't be necessary if we lived in a perfect world, but that's not the way things are. Let's welcome full-body scans as long as they are needed.

Looking back at Christmas in Tulsa

A Blizzard? In Tulsa?

There's Work to be Done!

The Gifts Await!

The Stockings Were Hung . . .

The first surprise of my Christmas trip was a blizzard: the first ever to hit Tulsa, I believe. Unlike 2008. I managed to avoid airport delays. I arrived before the blizzard and left after it. As usual, the food was excellent; I gained five pounds! That was with careful eating. I can't imagine how much I would have gained if I had "pigged out."

Tulsa lacks Chicago's huge snow-clearing crew, so the side streets were never plowed. Needless to say, we stayed in a lot. It was cold, too. I read a lot and did a lot of puzzles (I never travel without those puzzle books), and I received some fine gifts, including a Flip Video Camera. Now I need to find some suitable subjects for video.

The best part of the holiday was being with family. My grandniece, Lauren, a junior at the University of Arizona, is thinking about her medical school entrance exams already. I wish her luck. Although there were some doctors on her maternal grandmother's side of the family, there have been none among the Marshalls. We seem to be descended from a long line of farmers and craftsmen. Lauren is very inteligent and a diligent scholar, so she should make it as a doctor.

Now I'm back home, and the new year has begun. Life at The Clare will soon be back to normal. My first anniversary of moving in comes in just a bit over a week. As I get older, the time seems to fly past faster and faster. I'm hoping for another great Christmas in Tulsa in 2010.

(Photos by John Marshall)

Politics? Why me?

As you may have noticed, I usually steer clear of poilitics in my writing. I do not belong to any party; I'm as afraid of the liberal left as of the religious right, and my usual reaction is just to shrug my shoulders at the goings on in government.

Imagine my surprise when I received an official-looking notice, a "2010 Obama Agenda Survey" from the Republican National Committee. It included a survey marked "DO NOT DESTROY" and a letter admonishinbg, "So please, no matter what, do not discard or destroy your survey." It contains an ID number, so there's no chance of remaining unanimous.

The letter begins as follows:

"Please carefully read and complete the enclosed survey which is registered in your name and affixed with a tracking code to ensure tha it is accounted for in the tabulated results. . . . .I am sending out this questionnaire to gauge here you and other grassroots Republicans stand on the critical issues facing our nation.. I need to hear back from you right away."

Grassroots Republican? I am no such thing. Where did they get my name? Is there an assumption that all old people are Republicans, or just old people who live in luxury buildings? The letter is four pages long and rather repetitious; it accuses President Obama of just about every "sin" in the Republican repertoire.

"That's why we are asking where you stand on Barack Obama's promise to raise taxes...on his plans to give amnesty to illegal immigrants, which could lead to billions of dollars in government handouts and possibly bankrupt Social Security. And how do you feel about Obama's efforts to nationalize health care and have it run by bureaucrats in Washington, D.C.? These are Obama's top priorities!"

Then we get to the bottom line: fundraising. Several times this sentence appears: "please complete your Registered copy of the 2010 Obama Agenda Survey, then make out your check or provide your credit card information in the space provided for your contribution of $500, $250, $100, $50, or even $30 to the Republican National Committee, place it in the postage-paid envelope provided, and mail it right away." The implication is, "no contribution, no survey."

As you can imagine, they won't hear from me. I may return an empty envelope, although that's probably coded too. I'm not a strong supporter or critic of Barack Obama. I guess my basic attitude is to give him a chance. He couldn't do worse than his predecessor. I like his idealism, although I think he is sometimes unrealistic about what he can accomplish. At any rate, I don't see him as a destroyer of our country or an enemy, as this letter presumes I should.

If I'm on some list of Republicans--or Democrats--please remove my name. I am srtrictly independent, and no appreciator of political rhetoric on either side. Please respect my privacy, and don't insult my intelligence!

Travel Tips for Senior Citizens

The following guest post was contributed by Christine Howell who frequently writes about Online Health Care Degrees and college related topics for Online College Guru, an online college directory and comparison website.

Now that you have more time on your hands as you've reached the "golden years," you find that you may want to travel more so you can see the things you missed all those years while working on a career and raising the kids. Of course life has changed for you and you're not that "spring chicken" anymore, but that doesn't mean you still can't enjoy yourself. Here are a few tips to make your traveling a lot more enjoyable and secure.

Do some pre-planning before your trip:

1. Contact your travel agent about where you are thinking of going. A lot of travel agencies cater to seniors these days.

2. Make sure to find out about medical facilities in the area where you are planning to go.

3. Do research on the climate where you will be visiting.

4. If you are traveling with a wheelchair or guide dog, make sure these can be accommodated.

5. Think about purchasing travel insurance and make sure that it will cover any pre-existing illness that you might have.

When packing, keep these things in mind:

1. Make sure that your carryon bag contains everything you will need during your flight, if you are flying.

2. Always make sure that your carryon bag contains a medical kit, which should include everything from your medications to band aids.

3. Try to use suitcases that have wheels on them for an easier commute.

Traveling with a disability:

1. It might be wise to call the airports and airlines to make sure that your disability can be taken care of.

2. Make all reservations in advance to save time and hassles.

3. Book direct flights whenever possible.

4. Contact the local tourist information center at your destination to get information about their public transportation system.

5. If you are going outside of the country, make sure to find out from the embassy about any regulations there might be about wheelchairs, guide dogs and medicines.

Pre-trip medical checkups:

1. Always make sure to get a physical before leaving on a trip and ask your doctor about anything special you may need to do or know.

2. Discuss your trip plan with your doctor so they are aware of what to expect. That way they will be able to give you sound medical advice based on what information you have given them.
If you are a diabetic, it's important that you find out from your doctor how to stagger your medication in different time zones.

3. Make sure to get flu and pneumonia shots before leaving for any extended trip.

4. If you are going somewhere that is known for having a high ratio of infectious disease, make sure to be vaccinated accordingly.

When traveling with medications:

1. Make sure you discuss your medications with your doctor so you know what you should be taking.

2 Get a letter from your doctor explaining what the drugs are you are taking and why you are taking them.

3. Always leave the drugs in their original containers so as not to cause confusion and suspicion, especially to other countries.

4. If you have to inject your medication, make sure to bring plenty of syringes of your own with you and not rely on places to buy them at your destination.

Clothing while traveling:

1. Make sure that the clothing you are traveling in is loose fit and comfortable. Wearing comfortably fitting clothing allows for better blood circulation, which is important when you may be sitting for long periods of time.

2. Always avoid tight socks or stocking.

Important information you should carry with you:

1. All of your doctors' contact information.

2. Travel agent's number if you booked your trip with an agency.

3. Airline's contact number.

4. Number for the U.S. Embassy if you are traveling out of the country.

5. Emergency contact numbers.

New Hearing Aids: Will They Help?

Yesterday, my new heraring aids were delivered and fitted. Unlike my old ones, which I wore on and off for about six years, these fit behind the ear, with only a little plastic tube going inside the ear.

I've learned a lot about hearing aids over the years: (1) They are expensive, and Medicare does not pay for them. (2) No hearing aid can restore absolutely normal hearing. (3) Sometimes they can be more trouble than help, especially in a place where you'd rather not hear the heating system, noisy neighbors, or other unwelcome sounds. (4) They seem to be a sign of old age; some elders reject them long after they become isolated by silence. (5) In-the-ear models like my old ones can react to heat and humidity (as mine did in Egypt) and short out. Repairs are expensive.

So why have I resolved to try again? The old aids are worn out; one worked on occasion, the other not at all. Part of it is noticing those around me at The Clare. Trying to share a table with three other hard-of-hearing resdidents becomes a comedy of errors punctuated by "What did you say? Can you speak louder?" I've found myself just nodding, as if I've heard everything. This is enough to make me even more of a loner than I am naturally.

Young people often complain about elders refusing to wear hearing aids, implying that doing so would solve all communication problems. 'Taint so. Perfect hearing is often a dream, even with the best hearing aids available. Be careful: don't attribute difficult conversations with seniors to lack of intelligence or knowledge or to crankiness. Despite hearing aids, we sometimes just can't get it, especially if you have an unfamiliar accent. Even British accents on TV seem to bother me, hearing aids or not. Be sure to speak slowly and clearly.

Anyway, I got the latest and supposedly best digital aids this time; I have several fittings to go, and I've had some uncomfortable sound feedback. So far, I do think I hear better, but I'll need to try the aids out in social situations and get more adjustments before I can make a true evaluation. In the meantime, I'm hoping to become more aware of what's going on around me. I'm hoping that cocktail parties cease to be annoying experiences. Hearing aids won't make me a social butterfly, but if I'm lucky, they'll help a bit. I certainly hope so.

Taking My Driving Test

My birthday was fast approaching (actually, it's tommorow), and one effect of dreading the aging process seemed to be postponing renewal of my driver's license. As the deadline loomed, I began to analyze my reluctance.

Despite my accident-free record, I could not just renew via email or take the vision test and a new picture and get an extension of four more years, as usual. I had to take a driving test, which meant that I could not renew my license downtown, but had to drive to the far north side. For obvious reasons, no road tests are given in Chicago's crowded Loop.

There were other issues, too. Do I really need to own a car? It's expensive, thanks to insurance, licensing, and parking costs, and I drive as little as once a week. Am I an old and incompetent driver? I hope not. The "giving up driving" dilemma seems to hit all elders sooner or later, but I'm only turning 77! I still hope to know when it's time to give up, since I don't have a family to decide for me. Anyway, I finally decided to take the test and see what happened.

I realized that, as far as I can remember, I had only taken one road test, on the occasion of my originally getting a license. I started driving later in life than many do, but that happened in the late 1950's. No wonder I was terrified! Would I be asked to parallel park (something I've never been good at)? Would the examiner make me nervous? I approached the exam with anxiety.

The first positive thing I noticed was that senior citizens were allowed to go to the head of the line in the crowded facility where we took our vision tests. I passed that, but what I feared most was still ahead. After a fairly long wait in a line of cars, I was relieved to see a seemingly nice young woman enter my car for the test. It turned out that she was, indeed, nice and non-threatening.

The good news is that the test was easy. I'm good at using turn signals, stopping at stop signs, and observing traffic. I didn't have to parallel park. I managed to avoid the cones when I had to back up (something I don't do particulartly well). I passed, had a ridiculously bad photo taken, and soon had my new license good for four years. I was elated!

By the time my license runs out next time, I'll be over eighty (if still alive), and I may well be ready to give up driving by then. I've already vowed to make my 2003 Mini Cooper my last car. It's easy to get along without a car here in the middle of the city, but I guess I had to prove that I can still drive. I'm glad things turned out as they did.

Some Uncomfortable Thoughts about Elders

This is the tranquil view from my window on a recent weekend. However, I have felt less calm since I got a disturbing phone call yesterday. It seems that the son of one of my fellow residents took issue with the commentary written by one of our black residents in the September issue of our newsletter, The Clarion, and wrote an angry letter to The Clare's acting Executive Director.

In my view, the commentary was liberal but inoffensive, and it was accompanied by an invitation to submit opposing views; still, the letter writer stated that he didn't want to find this newsletter at his mother's or father's door again. That's all right with me, but I was led to some uncomfortable thoughts. Assuming that this complaint originated with a resident rather than his or her son, have elders become so set in their ways that they cannot abide controversy? Can't they accept opposing views, or anything they don't agree with? Whatever happened to our democratic urge to fire off letters to the editors when we want to criticize something? Do we have at least one closet racist, or at best an arch conservative, in our midst?

I was reminded of TV images of seniors protesting imaginary "death squads" in the health care debate and those praising Medicare while objecting to all government involvement. Whatever happened to logic and fairness? While I have found Clare residents to be generally intelligent and fair-minded, I was caught off guard by that letter. How I wish that the resident involved would identify himself or herself to me and/or write a scathing criticism of the article.

I am a supporter of freedom of the press, including senior newsletters, and this incident, plus the earlier censorship fiasco, made me wonder if we elders are supposed to be sheeplike followers of whatever is the majority position or the senior residence management's view? Without free speech and a free press, life is not worth living, and that is true for elders as much as it is for the young. Let's have intelligent controversy involving logic rather than anger! As long as we have the ability to think, let's do so, and let no young people be surprised to discover disagreements among seniors. Assuming that we all are --or should be-- alike is very dangerous.

Reflections on the NFPW Conference, September 10-12

This year's conference of the National Federation of Press Women was held in San Antonio, Texas, this year. This is the second national conference of the group that I have attended (the other was in 2007), and I basically enjoyed the experience. However, I was reminded that traveling is tough for us elders. Here are a few observations (not really meant to be complaints).

1. Must the airport experience be so difficult? I understand about security, but the time it takes to personally examine my whole body with a wand because my two knee replacements set off the alarm seems a bit unnecessary. I certainly can't look like a dangerous terrorist, especially at my age. This process may deter me from flying again for a while.

Then there is the long walk from terminal to gate. Of course I'm old enough, though not visibly impaired, to request a wheelchair, and I often did so before my knee operations. Now I consider myself reasonably healthy and fit, but that walk is a real challenge. Whatever happened to those carts that used to ply the aisles to transport anyone who requested a ride? I only saw one, and it was marked for special VIPs, some of whom looked young and vigorous when they passed me. Can't we older commoners have some help? I've discovered that brisk walking for long distances makes me short of breath and in need of a seat, and often there is no place to sit until I reach my gate, or the baggage claim area when I arrive.

What's with the baggage fees? This is my first time having to take out a credit card once each way to pay $15 to transport my small bag. Many carry similar bags aboard, but I'm not strong enough to do that. And the size and number of bags carried onto a full plane are mind-boggling. There have always been too many carry-ons, but the charges seem to encourage virtually everyone to carry on as much as possible. The loading and unloading of those overhead bins is quite a process; one seems to risk life and limb avoiding having a large bag fall on one's head.

2. We stayed in a nice enough hotel, but I was not especially comfortable. For one thing, the shower was in a slippery bathtub without grab bars, and I did not dare take a shower. One slip (and I'm not very sure-footed) could have disabled me for the rest of my life. I had to make do with what my mother used to call "sponge baths," so I hope I didn't have B.O.

Most of the lamps in the room apparently had burned-out bulbs or other problems. Since there was one good working lamp for reading, as well as a ceiling light, I didn't register any complaints. Actually, the most annoying feature of the place was the toilet. I'd always thought that all toilets are pretty much alike, but then I had my knee replacements. My condo toilets were both rather low, so I had to buy a raised seat. Those here at The Clare are of more reasonable height, and they've given me no trouble. Those at the San Antonio hotel hit a new low. They were too low for all but the smallest child. Getting both down and up provided me with real challenges, and when possible, I used the handicapped stalls in pubic restrooms (not very useful in the middle of the night). What was this hotel thinking? I've never seen such low toilets anywhere outside a child care center. Apparently all the rooms were so-equipped.

All this made me ponder, as usual, the "joys" of growing old. Do I really need to request airport wheelchairs and handicap-accessible rooms when I travel? Or should I just quit traveling altogether? I don't think of myself as a fragile old lady, but this trip make me wonder. It's nice to be back home!

(As I said, I did enjoy the conference, although I ate too much. See my other blog, "Write Your Life!" for an account of my awards.)