#rehlm

There is an un-deniability that happens around 50... your short term memory starts to toddle off now and then. Sometimes its drugs that cause a... lapse. Sometimes it's the "hard drive."  The brain gets a little fragmented. Word retrieval is not such a straight shot.We all need a little defragmenting now and then.  But, in other words, which is the thing, you get slower when pulling storage, you know... oh you know what I mean...names, nouns, places and such.

I first started noticing this phenomenon when I had to take drugs for pain and surgery. Yeah! My first minor surgery ever happened just before the age of 50. I was 48 and had my gall bladder out. I wouldn't really count that surgery as part of turning 50. It was back surgery and the pain of injuring my back that the initial on slot of "50 is the new fucked up" - chimed in for me. And from that point out my short term memory has not been the same.

My "50 is the new fucked up" story is how injury at 50 hurts more than I thought it would have.:

When I herniated my disk I didn't heal quickly like I thought I would. And why would I think that I wouldn't heal fast? I was very youthful looking and beautiful  and strong. I was stupid too.  TO think  I would recover from a herniated disc in my spine in a matter of weeks and be fine like always was my expectation, what a silly thought. Tough, strong , beautiful. Uh, recovery and healing at 49 years of age doesn't go quite like when your forty or even 45, duh. You soon find that out when medical staff start talking to you like you are old as the hills and pain and injury are now a way of life since the magic age of 50 is looming, horrible things start to take place in your mind and in practice.

To hear for the first time that you are no longer young and can't expect to recover like you might have when you were 40 when you can hardly stand living  in so much pain, is so hard on the soul and depressing. I didn't know how to handle the changing value of myself as a woman in the medical staffs view, let alone the dismay of my sudden demise into aging. According to every 20 something nurse I was un-relatable anyway.

My quality of life was not of much concern in the medical group who where 'helping me."  To the 40 something doctor view, I was an aging woman and most likely would remain that way. That thinking really impeded my care. And influenced a terrible course of poor medical advise. I was gal-able enough to trust those around me had my back, literally. Uck! Listening to them and being a patient of that mentality really fucked me up. My husband believed the mentality and was validated in his thoughts. I had lost my use to quite a degree for him, enough that he felt he could break the vows of our 30 year marriage and get his needs met instead of helping me meet mine, when I was in terrible need, by cheating on me. I still hurt emotionally from it. I'm changed. I didn't understand why my value as a human being was so low suddenly now that I needed help. Was it rreally because I was nearing 50 that I couldn't get the care I needed? It was an awful feeling being around doctors, nurses and a husband that only valued the 30s, 40s somethings. I was barely turning 50.

I still looked youthful and not "my age" but something about the number 50 being attached to me changed the way a younger man saw me. When I understood my husband couldn't be gentle enough to honor me in my need, I began to prefer the 40 something  men for company. I know , I know, I used the same sick vice to sooth me.  I didn't let them know my age, cause that always changed the game. At the time, I couldn't stand the 50 something married cheating man. They are like a fucking plage 

The darkness of my 50 ish aging as this sudden realm of being viewed as sexless, useless and in pain might be even beyond description for me. The suddenness of it all almost took me out completely. I did not come out undamaged. In the eyes of many people I thought knew me and some who loved me, I stopped being a productive attractive female and became a slow healer, an older woman and it seems over night I was almost beaten by the number 50. I had to adjust and love myself first and give to myself first and for most before any other... if I was going to make it over the line and beyond.

slow, Slower, not quite slowest.... I broke my foot at 52 because of the permanent injury to my nerve caused from the  herniated spinal disk . My first broken bone and of course the new doctor would hardly give me any hope of healing quickly or all the way. Absolutely no guarantee of recover  from him. I was after all 52 and menopausal, barely.  At this age you really get to believe in yourself. Literally nobody else may. Maybe your mother if she is still alive.

The thing is at 50, understanding and making any commitment for being completely accountable for you own self esteem and confidence should be fully developed. No body is going to look at you and think I want to help you feel better about what's happening. You will be to old for that kind of comforting. Fact is the only person I was lucky enough to have still that would take me in and emotionally understand me was my mother.  I was still susceptible, even at 50, to fear like a kid and needed reassurance for somebody. It felt fucked up.The only person who loved enough to be there emotionally for me was my mother during a long recovery.

For my back, I was on so many drugs for prolonged intense pain. I was hurting so bad and not getting much understanding or kindness from anybody. I guess Everyone figured that I should heal with out need for emotional support. Only my mother seemed to understand different. I guess the thinking from my husband, children and others was , I was a mother past being looked after but rather looking after others. I had raised three kids and had been completely in charge of care for my house and family relationships. Family, friends and medical all behaved as if I was still able this way this way. It was really ugly for me. Thank God for my mother. I don't think anybody saw me as I was. Pretty helpless and in need of care and loving company in my pain. Sometimes only a mother can love in an ugly situation with her child, even at the respective age of 50. Mom was 78 at the time. Very sad but true and honestly I feel totally humiliated that my mommy was the only being who valued me as much as when I was 20,youthful, beautiful and healthy.Ooh so strange a time is 50 and broken.