It Ain't for Sissies!

I hear it over and over again.  I work with the elderly and so the words ring in my ears often.

"Never get old!"

That's what they tell me.  Those 'old people'.  But I think it is too late.

Guess who is on high blood pressure medicine now?

Ha!

I can no longer brag that I do not have to take any meds.  I now take a low dosage of diuretic to keep the BP under control.  Mine always ran good to low and now, suddenly out of nowhere...  it is off the charts!  210/136 is what my reading was at the ER a couple of weeks ago.  They put me on meds and I forgot to take it for almost 2 days and 2 days of eating the wrong foods and BAM - it shot right back up!  Last night all I could think of was... oh no!  It's going to be back to the ER for me!!! Anxiety followed.  I used my BP cuff that I have at home and became a bit obsessed with it.   The numbers were going up, up, up.  I was not amused.  I told myself, stay calm.  That didn't happen.  Today it's better.

Blah!

Another common quote I hear from my customers:

"Old age is not for sissies!"

It's not.  Really.  It's not.

But, hidden beneath the awful reality of growing older, slowing down, health problems as well as wrinkles and aches and pains...  I search for the good.  And it's still there.

In Chocolate cupcakes that represent our flag....

Giggles and sunglasses....

Big splashes...

Saving the grandkids from Jaws...

Memories....

That can melt your heart....

That is if the sun doesn't melt it first....

And to top it all off, a beautiful campfire that goes into the night, Smores, and sticky fingers ....

The morning after....

Thank you God, for family and friends.  For beautiful summer days.  For good health to enjoy the many blessings.   Hope everyone is having a blessed 4th.

Dear Diary,

It's been crazy around here lately.  The cookie carriers all came over and totally interrupted my sleep. There was no rest for the weary.  They were in and out and here and there and doing this and that and... makes me tired just thinking about it.  The good news is this.  Something called smores.  There were droppings.  Lots of droppings.  I must rest now.  My playful pup days of wreaking havoc and tearing through the house day and night are a thing of the past.  This old gal needs some sleep.  Later. Gracie.