You know you're getting old when...

Yes, I know. This could be the longest blog post in history. Could be, but won't be, because I'll need my nap pretty soon.

Seriously, I looked at yesterday's mail and was assaulted by an envelope. There, on the top of the wad of stuff that passes for correspondence, perched a letter from The Scooter Store. The Scooter Store! I couldn't believe it. Did they think I was old or something?

I assessed the situation. Well, sure, I had spent part of the previous evening with the latest issue of AARP on my lap, reading an article in which Kristen Bell, Jamie Lee Curtis and Betty White shared advice about aging. I identified best with Betty White's remarks. Hmmm. Betty White.... And when did AARP, replace my Grisham novels, anyhow?

What else was in the mail? Oh, perfect--two pitches to change my health insurance plans. Change them? Not likely! I still bear scars from having to wade through all that paperwork when I approached my 65th birthday -- not that all the "wading" did a lot of good. In the end, desperate to make a decision--ANY decision--I played what I call Medicare-meeney-miney-moe, arbitrarily picking a plan and tossing around big words like "deductible" and "co-pay" to justify my decision. It had all the science of throwing a dart at at target and being satisfied if it landed somewhere on the wall. Why can't health insurance selection for seniors be easy? We old folks confuse easily, you know.

And don't even think of getting me started talking about long term care insurance (yup, did that, too) or the dreaded "doughnut hole" in prescription coverage. Being a senior citizen is not for sissies, indeed.

And how about that term "senior citizen"? Remember when being a "senior" was something to anticipate with pleasure, the year you'd attend your senior prom and later parade across the auditorium stage wearing a robe and mortarboard, diploma clutched in hand? Anticipate being a senior citizen? Not so much.

You know you're getting old when you can get fired up talking about health insurance before most people half your age have had their first cup of coffee. Me, I'd had three before I even penned the first line of this post.

You know you are getting old when a New York Times article by Sandra Day O'Connor and others, called "The Age of Alzheimer's", reminds you that you now are in the age bracket of those whose chance of developing Alzheimer's doubles every five years. The article, concise and powerful, clearly describes what the US must do to prevent the dire future these numbers portend. I encourage you to look it up. It's not pleasant reading, but remember, we aren't sissies.

Much of the remainder of my day will be spent writing and preparing for an upcoming writers' retreat. But, before I do anything else, I'm going to snatch up that letter from The Scooter Store, toss it into the recycle bin and then plot a few other acts of senior disobedience.