Summary

The author recounts a recent experience with a vegan diet, health scares, and the challenges of aging, ultimately resorting to wine as a coping mechanism.

Abstract

In a humorous and candid narrative, the author describes their journey trying a vegan diet at the behest of a friend, despite initial skepticism. The diet leads to unexpected weight loss and a surprising lack of missing meat. Amidst this dietary experiment, the author reflects on aging after a conversation with their father and then suffers a sudden, intense pain that leads to a series of health-related anxieties. After medical consultation, the pain is attributed to a strained muscle, possibly incurred during sleep. Subsequent ailments, including a toothache and arthritis flare-up, compound the author's frustration with aging. The author copes with these tribulations by indulging in wine, viewing it as a defense against the perils of aging and illness.

Opinions

The author is initially skeptical about the vegan diet but finds it more manageable and beneficial than expected.
There is a sense of irony and humor in the way the author discusses the sudden onset of pain and the subsequent medical evaluation.
The author expresses a mix of frustration and resignation towards the aging process and the associated health issues.
The author seems to believe that moderate consumption of wine is a reasonable response to the stresses of aging and health concerns.
There is a playful defiance in the author's attitude towards 'Old Father Time,' suggesting a desire to maintain youthfulness and vitality despite the body's limitations.

Buckle up

Old Age Is Not For P$ssies

There, I said it

In my quest for better health, including weight loss and diabetes management, I tried out a new diet last week. It’s vegan, something I never thought in a million stinking years I’d try.

My girl Sherry McGuinn suggested/asked/coerced/demanded I try it with her, even though I was very upfront with her about the possibility of death without cheese.

But I didn’t die from veganism! Turns out I didn’t miss the meat at all. I did miss the cheese and ranch dressing, but I survived and even managed to lose three pounds.

Good thing I love garbanzo beans because I practically lived on those little guys all week!

In the middle of this vegan experiment, my dad and I were comparing ailments, (holy hell, how did that happen?) and he said, “Honey, don’t you wish you would have taken better care of yourself back when you were young?”

I was like, whoa, hold up there, Daddy-O. I’m your kid, remember? You were here first, and by like a lot, ‘k?

I have lots of time to make better decisions and live my best life.

Don’t paint me old with that brush of yours.

He laughed his ass off at that. Old man humor, go figure.

The next day, I hopped out of the shower and looked in the mirror (my first mistake) to put on my makeup. Out of nowhere, a bolt of excruciating pain crashed down my left side.

I mean double-over-take-my-breath-away-ouch-you-son-of-a-bitch-what’d-I-ever-do-to-deserve-this-shit pain.

I hobbled into the bedroom and laid on the bed for a few minutes, gasping for breath until the pain slowly subsided to a dull roar.

There was no one here to offer sympathy except the dog, and she’s part lab, part asshole and offered only a dirty face. The lab part was nowhere in sight because I was taking up precious real estate on her bed. Get your ass off to work, mom, this is my nap time.

I managed to dress and haul myself to work, where I gimped around like Quasimoto.

As a diabetic, this whole experience terrified me because I thought I blew a kidney.

I know that’s very dramatic, but every kidney ailment from UTI to stones to failure raced through my mind, even though I’ve never had the first kidney problem.

I walked into the office and realized I forgot my stupid mask. I shambled back down the damn stairs so I could go out to my car and get my mask. Fucking Covid.

I made it back into the office and ran down our Physician Assistant for a quick consult. She promptly poked me and then thumped me in the kidney and asked me if it hurt. It did not hurt. She said that my pain seemed lateral rather than in my back where kidneys normally hang out.

She explained that we all have mostly the same equipment, mostly located in the same spots, and although we consider that some of us store our innards in slightly different spots, she jarred me enough to shake up a kidney if it was anywhere near where it should be.

She also didn’t think it was a cardiac issue. She thought maybe it was a strained muscle.

Aside from extreme relief that I probably would not die that day, in the absence of any physical activity that results in a strained muscle, my only conclusion is that I injured myself while sleeping.

How does that even happen? I mean, how the hell does one go to bed healthy and wake up with a sports injury?

Extreme sheet surfing? Restless leg-rowing? Perhaps an overuse injury from pillow-flipping?

I have no earthly idea, unless, of course, it’s old fucking age knocking on my ribs in the middle of the night.

The next morning, to go along with the sprained muscle, I woke up with a toothache.

Fuck.

The day after that, the “minor” arthritis I have in my hip screamed at me because I over-corrected because of the lateral muscle pain.

Double fuck.

So, in the last five days, I’ve ingested enough ibuprofen to really blow a kidney. Good thing I’ve got two, I guess.

I’ve had enough of old age. That old man can kiss my ass. He has to be a man, right? My girls wouldn’t do me this way, would they?

Old Father Time needs to move on down the road and bother those young kids next door who run every fucking morning at the ass crack of dawn. I see a shin splint and a major side stitch in their immediate future.

As for me? I’m drinking. A lot, and on the double.

Wine is vegan, right?

My spirits move me to imbibe the exact amount to ward off zealous bacteria and viruses, as well as any random demons looking for a free ride.

Fuck bedtime injuries, fuck Covid, and fuck old age.

A magnum of wine should do it, don’t you think?