3 of 46

Write now Article Tools

I remember his words, they were still as fresh in my mind as the day he said...

'You're getting old. 'You have to remember that your body is a machine, and like all machines it eventually begins to wane...break down. Biological, yes, but still a machine.'

My gaze was such that if it had the power, it would have cut him down right there. Oh, yes the thoughts that went through my mind as I lay there on the bed, were such that I couldn't possibly mention them here...but you can well imagine how I felt. I was being written off - written off and discarded as no use to society. Yes, I had reached an age in which doctors barely gave a passing interest now to my health, and that angered me.

Why should people be tossed away like that, like some useless piece of nothing, only fit for taking up the space that maybe someone younger should have? Don't I, as a senior citizen have rights? Am I looked upon now as a waste of time? These were the questions that ran through my mind and I was angry. I was angry with a lot of things, I was angry with the way my life had worked out. I was angry that I never really became a success at anything I put my hand too. And I was bitterly angry, over my body that was now failing me, failing me in a way in which it hadn't before.

The things I could do yesterday I could no longer do today...or they seemed harder. I found myself having to use a magnifying glass when reading my newspaper {I refused to wear glasses}. I didn't want to admit to myself that my eyes were not like they where, I even found myself struggling to even make it to the shops. You see, I loved to walk everywhere, that's me, I have always been the same way, hardly ever getting a bus, or a cab when I could just as well walk. But you know, lately...lately everything seems such an effort for me and so I found myself riding the bus more times than I ever did when I was...you know.

And now here I lay being examined by a doctor that couldn't give a damn. His couldn't care less attitude was really beginning to rankle with me and I held my tongue for as long as I could before I could take it no longer. 'I am NOT old!.' There, I said it, and I told him a few home truths too. 'I can walk, I can do all the things you can do, and more beside. I can give you a run for your money any day of the week. I'll not be brushed off like that, discarded as if I'm a piece of rubbish you have just stood on.' I was sitting up now, raging, my eyes bulging...and then he said something to me that threw me

• 1
• 2
• 3
• next page >>

Add your voice

Know something about Reflections: Growing old?
We want to hear your view. Write now!