Getting Old

This afternoon, I had one of my regular appointment with my eye doctor. You know, being over fifty one’s eyes are not what they used to be.

This was not my usual doctor. Replacinh her was another woman, much younger, somewhere in her early twenties. She was nice and competent, the checkup went as I expected. But once she tried to explain to me the state of my vision she seemed very hesitant. It felt to me like she dared not tell me some really bad news. She — sorry, I don’t know an equivalent English expression to the French “elle tournait autour du pot”, so I will simply say — she did not want to get to the point.

After hestitating and smiling nervously for what seemed to me like a long time (probably wasn’t) she looked at her keyboard and remained silent, fiddling with her pen. I could have sworn she was blushing.

I asked her ‘Is there something wrong with my eyes, doctor?

— No. It’s… I don’t know how to tell you without hurting your… I mean, you are…

I smiled, ‘I’m getting old is that it? I know that already, you know.’

She literally sighed, looking at me with a relieved smile. ‘Yes, you’re getting older and your eyes are…’ She paused again.

— Are getting older too?’

She nodded, with what looked like a resigned and sad smile.

Why? Why was it that hard to tell me that I, and my eyes, were getting old? Her hesitation and uneasiness got me thinking.

Is there some issue with the fact of getting old? And if there is such issue, is this with us the older people, or with the younger ones? And since when being told, or telling one is getting old, could be perceived has something like a rude comment?

Have we come to a point where everyone is expected to be and to remain a young athlete, exhibiting the most perfect and flawless body and aptitudes all their life, and to never get old? Eternal Youth™® — for small monthly fee – anyone?

I mean, we all get old, there is no escaping it. That’s fact, not a choice, no matter how rich or poweerful one can be. It’s part of the deal all living creatures pass with life. We grow old and then, we are no more. Leaving the place we occupied free for newer members, exactly like we replaced those that were living before us.

Was it just me misinterpreting her attitude? I was too surprised to discuss that question further with that young doctor, and there were other patients waiting. I regret not doing it. Maybe next time if my usual — older — doctor has not come back.

Distant view of a city’s skyscrapers taken from a cemetery, with a few graves and tombstones in the foreground

Published: 2024/01/11