In the pub the other day, the conversation turns (as it often does when you hang out with people of a certain age) to medical horror stories, and in particular the story of one woman’s 84-year-old mother-in-law who came round half way through her gall-bladder operation to the sensation of someone rummaging round in her innards apparently with a corkscrew.
‘How’s she doing now?’ I asked.
‘Oh, not bad, she’s back on her bike.’
It’s entirely unscientific, but I’ve noticed the phenomenon up here of the indestructible octegenarian, usually cyclists, though occasionally walkers (someone else was complaining that she was getting little breathless but that her doctor didn’t take her complaint seriously as it was only happening after the first five miles or so). Obviously I should be above taking unrepresentative anecdotes into account, but somehow a story like that is far more of a spur to action than any number of large-scale longitudinal studies. At least, that is what I told myself today as I dragged myself out on the bike not once but twice on a day untroubled by sunshine, warmth or indeed much in the way of visibility.
Reminds me of a similar story from my Mum. She was called into the GP for her periodic MOT – something this particular GP did as routine with their older patients and Mum was in her late 80s at the time. In response to the standard question about was anything bothering her she said that she had problems getting her leg over these days. After the GP picked himself off the floor and calmed down she qualified the statement by stating that the problem was with stiles on her country walks.
There is all this talk about how people are living longer and the this is causing a pensions time bomb. But it ignores that fact that the people who are old now grow up in very different world to now. They were very fit in their youth and carried that fitness throughout their lives. Younger generations are increasingly less fit and unlikely to live anything like as long, which is really sad.
I am also remind of my own Grandparents who after they moved into a sheltered bungalow, used to talk about the “poor old dears across the road”. The amusing bit was the “poor old dears” were in their 70′s and both my Grandparents, who where more active, where in their 90′s…
Nigel – hah! Bet she enjoyed his reaction too
Kim – I did read somewhere that the wartime generation are just refusing to die… we’ll see how the baby boomers get on when their time comes
Indeed. Mum’s now 98 and STILL living independently, although the stiles have now defeated her.
Baby Boomers? I guess that includes me. I’ll let you know how we get on.
Go your mum!