We Are Women, Hear Us Roar!
By popular request, the age old bugaboo has reared its’ head while we were recently in the confines of Cedars-Sinai Hospital. (We were there as ordered by our good friend and great medico, Dr. Steve Agre.) We received good care but the question of age kept popping its ugly head at every twist and turn of the bed pan, and also there were daily discussions on age. Now why is that important, and why must a mature gal continually discuss her years on this planet? She is relegated to that particular number, and is promptly placed in a numbers category. This scribe believes that this procedure is totally unfair, unjust or whatever, so sadly this unfortunate stigma follows everyone.
Take the case of a professional nurse who told us, “I’m still active and I’m good at my job.” With a tear in her eye she continued, “I look good, I think young – though I’m actually in my 80’s, so I am considered a health risk even though I’m full of get-up-and-go.”
“Okay,” we agreed with sympathetic tones. Then we both added in unison, “Whatever happened to middle-age?” And so all of us who are still in the category of feisty femmes looking for improvement, think the nurse was no exception to the rule. She ended her speech on a happier note. “We might be frail but we’re still fun.”
Now why do men seem to be unaffected by all our cries for help? Oh, yes you say, their jobs are in jeopardy too, but are they really?
So why must women be singled out and continually bombarded with, “We can’t read the year you were born. Could you please repeat it?” This is usually yelled across a room. At least men don’t seem to be bothered like us gals, so everybody lies. Or do they? But always remember, due to the faithful and frightening computer, it tells it all so there’s no escape. However, there’s hope. Even though no mature woman wants to discuss her age, actually you don’t have to. There’s an Act of Congress passed which states all a gal has to say when interrogated by the enemy is, “It’s legal and I’m over 21.” A wonderful way to look at life.
So we repeat, “Whatever happened to middle age?” Roll out the wheelchair and walker. You can use it at will but don’t be bound by any of these toys. Think young, be young. Most of all, be happy. You don’t have to tell your age if you don’t want to. Try it sometime and let us know what really happened to middle age. And don’t worry, they can’t catch you. You’re faster than they are now, aren’t you?
Happy Easter to all you gals and guys. The lilies are in bloom again.