The Ravages of Time

I'm not usually someone who complains about aging (or hides his age for that matter), but the past few days, I've been experiencing signs of aging.

Normally, I have check-ups for my every six months. However, work's been so busy as of late that the usual excuse is "I have no time". Well, the grade on my right eye just went up, leaving me with less time to do pretty much everything as I become dizzier faster. Sitting in front of a computer for four hours is usually not a problem but now, just after the two-hour mark and I can't stand to read anything. (I made the time yesterday to visit my opthalmologist.)

My body's really a cesspool of cysts, the most notable of which is the one on my left armpit. It hurts like my stye, and it seems as if the pus has dried up into a semi-solid substance. I'd have it removed way way back but at the time, the doctor refused to do so, saying it was too small to be worth a bother. Of course a few months ago, my dad needed to have surgery to remove such cysts from his back. And he's in his golden years.

Respiratory problems has always been a problem of mine. It seems I inherited all the genetic defects of my father. Hopefully, the diabetes from my mother's line doesn't kick in.

And then yesterday while riding a taxi, I pricked my thumb. To be more specific, I pricked the area joining my fingernail to my thumb. So yes, it's painful and it was bleeding yesterday. It's a small inconvenience, but you'd be surprised how often humans use their opposable thumb.

Yet amidst it all, I still manage to do stuff younger people wouldn't even dream of. Such as walk fifteen flights of stairs for example. And, uh, that's basically it.