Fixin' and Premature Aging

Now, don't get me wrong, I love old people. They are some of the neatest people I know. I have every intention of being one myself some day. However, let me just put this out there: I'd like to think I'm not old yet.

But, I'm beginning to wonder. From my perspective, one of the tell tale signs that a person is getting older is when one's health and medication usage becomes the prevalent topic of discussion in most circles. No offense to the old people who might read this, but I haven't known a person in their 70's or 80's who isn't enraptured by what's happening to their bodies, and delights in delving into deep conversations about it. No doubt, I will understand that better myself some day.

For now, though, a thought occurred to me, and I realized I need some input from the outside world. As I was getting ready for bed tonight (my husband calls it "fixin'" - defined as the time in preparation spent before actually engaging in the announced activity one is about to participate - I do a lot of fixin' before I shower or get ready for bed, according to my husband) - as I was saying, as I was fixin' to go to bed tonight, I started to notice just how many ridiculous steps I take to prepare myself for the nighttime rest. And I wondered if this is a normal amount of fixin' compared to others or rather on the obsessive side of fixin'. I leave it to my readers to let me know.

Be warned at this point: I am about to go in to gross graphic detail, so if you have a weak stomach, you may want to consider ending your reading here.

I have asthma. I manage it by using preventative medicine via an inhaler called Advair. I take one puff at night, and one in the morning, every day. I have to do this before I brush my teeth, because the inhalant powder contains steroids; therefore, I have to rinse my mouth out after using it, so I always brush my teeth after I inhale.

Since I have a dentist appointment coming up, I feel compelled to floss my teeth daily to toughen my gums up enough so they don't bleed profusely when I go in to get my cleaning. I usually try to start doing this for about a month before I go in for my cleaning, which gives me enough time strengthen my gums, as well as answer honestly that, yes, indeed, I do floss my teeth daily, when the dentist asks me the inevitable question at our biannual meeting. I stop flossing immediately following my dental appointment, and pick it up again in approximately five months.

So, I inhale, floss, brush. I don't know about you, but I always go potty right before I go to bed. It usually prevents me from an embarrassing bedwetting incident in the middle of the night. Usually. Afterwards, I always wash my hands; I am quite fastidious about that. When my hands are dried, I always put lotion on them, rubbing extra on my elbows because they, too, seem to always be dried out. Know what I mean?

Then, I spray my toes with Tinactin. This is not something I do every night, but only during times when my feet begin to drive me crazy with itching from the athlete's foot I got in tenth grade, when I loaned my canvas sneakers to a fungus-laden ninth grader named Gina for volleyball practice one day. She returned my shoes after practice, leaving me with the gift of foot fungi, which I've had to deal with ever since. See what you get for being nice?!? Warning to others: do not let people borrow your shoes unless you've screened them for foot fungus beforehand. It's no fun.

If I happen to spray some of the fungicide on my hands, I have to wash my hands again. Lotion, again. Staying with the foot theme, my heels have been cracked and dry lately. So, I bought this stuff called Heel Rescue foot cream, and I rub a little bit of that in each night as well. I haven't noticed it helping yet, but I haven't given up on it.

As fate would have it, while my dad was in town last week, moving some of his stuff down here (he and my stepmom bought a house right around the corner from where I live and will be moving in soon); anyways, by day three after his arrival, a huge cold sore sprang up on my mouth. I'm not saying my dad's being here caused me to get one; I'm sure the stress of his coming was simply coincidental to the timing of the aformentioned lesion on my lips....well, anyway, that stupid little sucker hurts, and it won't seem to go away. So, I keep trying different things to make vanish. I took Lyseine (my stepmom swears by it - it does nothing for me), used Abreva (nada), put hydrogen peroxide on it to draw the infection out (I get lots of little tiny white bubbles, but that's it). Nothing works. It cracks and bleeds and hurts still. Tonight, after the rest of my ablutions, I decided to try Neosporin ointment; it's an antibiotic plus pain relief all in one. Plus, if it keeps the booboo moist, maybe it won't crack and bleed and keep hurting me, right? Yeah, we'll see how that one works out....

So, anyways, I apply my stick of Mentholatum Natural Ice to the remainder of my lips to keep them smooth and soft the whole night through. Then, finally, I think I'm ready for bed. No contacts to take out tonight, since I wore my glasses all day. I showered this evening and my face is all clean, so there's no need to wash that again.

By the time I'm finished doing all this crap, I'm exhausted! You would be too, right? Tell me, in your humble opinion, am I a neurotic pseudo-elderly-in-training freak, or do I seem perfectly normal to you? Do most people have crazy "fixin'" rituals, or is it just me? I suppose, since I've actually written all of this down, verbalizing in detail the gory nightly procedure, I've probably already sentenced myself to sitting alone in my Sunday school class next week. Who would want to sit by the asthmatic, faux-flossing, fungus-infested, lesion-laden person with dry skin? Not me, that's for sure. Ew!