How about a thread about Health?

Ya, They say it's rather embarrassing for a heath fanatic to die--they don't dare have heart trouble or cancer-must just be orneriness that does them in.

Dick, all of that is 110% true, or at least maybe kinda but not real true.

Someone asked me how I was going to celebrate my 69th birthday, and I told them I didn't have a damn clue. A good fast paced checker game and a cup of hot tea I suppose.

Zada, yes. my in-laws.

Alice, I didn't mean that he should have exercised after being diagnosed with PD, I meant that his pre-PD condition probably made the PD affect him worse that it otherwise might have. Just my layman's observation. He was diagnosed with it in in 2006 and died in 2008. But no mention of that procedure was made to him.

I know another 60-something who had it, he was physically fit when he got it, and even after he was diagnosed, continued to live on his farm alone, caring for it and himself (with some outside help) up until almost the end. Come to think of it, I don't think he was advised of that procedure, either. Wonder why? Anyhow, I'm just saying that the care you took of yourself up until now has probably contributed to the relatively good quality of life you appear to have.

Quote :

I have always believed the best way to check out is being shot by an irate husband or a jealous woman.

I've always thought, if I absolutely knew for sure that I was going to die, I'd want to jump out of an airplane without a parachute. I'm not sure I'm actually brave enough to do it, but it sounds like a lot of fun. Well, at least the beginning part, not the dying part.

The great thing about PD is that you can be dead for about five years before anyone is aware that you croaked.

Saves a lot of grief.

Alice wrote:

The great thing about PD is that you can be dead for about five years before anyone is aware that you croaked.

Saves a lot of grief.

Does that make you a croaker or a crooker?

Shelagh wrote:

Alice wrote:

The great thing about PD is that you can be dead for about five years before anyone is aware that you croaked.

Saves a lot of grief.

Does that make you a croaker or a crooker?

A Crooked,, Croaker, Crooker!

Sounds about right.

E. Don Harpe wrote:

Dick, all of that is 110% true, or at least maybe kinda but not real true.

Someone asked me how I was going to celebrate my 69th birthday, and I told them I didn't have a damn clue. A good fast paced checker game and a cup of hot tea I suppose.

Don't overdo it, Don. That riotous behavior might lead to problems.

Marie,

Your mother sounds like mine who died last year. Her problems began after her hip replacement surgery. She did not remember she had the surgery. She kept telling people she was going to have surgery and walk again, when she had already had it. I'd try to tell her and she wouldn't even believe me, and thus did not participate as she should have in physical therapy since she didn't think she had the surgery.

Finally, we determined that it was the anesthetic during surgery that had affected her. She had never had anesthetic before. At one point she stopped talking and slowly faded away until she died a year ago last weekend. The nursing home people said she did get very talkative at times and I told them to call me when she was talkative.

One day the nurse called and said, "She's talking. Come and bring chocolate." My mother loved chocolate. So we went and she asked me if I had graduated from high school yet. We did talk about graduating from high school and she knew when everyone had graduated in the 1930s. That was the last I ever knew her to talk. (I joked with the nurses as to who the chocolate was for. She did always share her chocolate.)

The stories here remind me of my grandmother:

http://www.publishedauthors.org/poetry-f23/the-rest-home-t1506.htm

Ann

Glad we are all in perfect health! Also, very good that I am not delusional yet.

My health has improved so much I am having way too much fun. Being somewhat isolated for months has turned me into some sort of social butterfly when I am let out into public.

And it is amazing what energy can do! Since right now you are the people that are getting the brunt of my unreal need to talk and that doesn't take care of all the words I have in my head, I am writing like crazy also. I spent way too much time on the couch with my laptop, but now I get up off the couch, go upstairs to the loft, and that is where my muse lives and he is glad to see me.

And just that exercise, going to a new place in my house I couldn't get to for six months, has improved my well-being.

And this morning I got up and looked out at the Wisconsin River and thought how soothing and healing water can be. (We do not live on the water here, but can see the river over the rooftops across the road. It is soothing.)

Love, Carol

Good, Carol!