Never Too Old to Find Something Better
Too Old for This Sh*t: How to Take Your Life Back from an Ageist Society
Evolving into a new life, wherever we are
I happen to have moved to Ecuador. That works for me…so far. Only been about five weeks, no honeymoon. Just life.
While cutting fresh fruit two mornings ago I managed to do a pretty good job of nearly decapitating the thumb and forefinger of my left hand with a brand-new serrated knife.
It’s not just that I can be terribly clumsy. Part of it is unfamiliarity with the hard shells of some of the fruit here in Ecuador like granadilla, or passion fruit, and being unprepared for how hard it fights a sharp intruder.
In fact had I bothered to research it, I’d have known to crack it like an egg instead. How we learn, right?
So I had to cancel my riding this week, although I did visit a local stable where I most emphatically hope to ride very soon. One small step at a time, with high hopes that this huge move to a new country will bear fruit in many new ways.
Two days ago I had a new appointment with my PCP, Gabriel Tenorio. He’s a gerontologist whom my local friend Vicki had introduced me to last November.
Four pm, and I was loaded for bear with tons of labs and tests for him. Looked him up online and the map showed me that he was 18 minutes from my house by foot. So I left an hour- mind you bookmark this- and started walking.
And landed at a big bustling hospital where Tenorio hasn’t worked for five years. Nobody had a clue where his offices were. Nobody spoke English well enough to help me sort out next steps.
So then I proceeded to try to call his office, using WhatsApp, which I have hardly learned and which regularly kicks my ass.
To wit: I sent two desperate messages to my dentist, not Tenorio.
Then I also managed to call my dermatologist by mistake and asked repeatedly where their office was as I was going to be late for an appointment that wasn’t scheduled with them until July 16th.
In the midst of this I apologized all over the place, felt like a ripe fool, finally make the right call, get someone whose English is more limited than my Spanish (which is BAD), and finally get out “mappa, WhatsApp.”
Seconds later DING! A map to Tenorio lands on my phone. Total immersion in another culture teaches, and it really makes you aware of how much you just don’t know.
I’m 11 minutes’ walk away. I arrive smack on time at 4 pm. THAT is why I leave an hour for an eighteen-minute walk.
THAT is just one reason why you don’t try to do ten things in a day. The pace is very different, and often people have a very different (read, not compulsive) relationship to time.
The other absolute guarantee is that I’m going to make mistake after mistake after mistake. I’ll read the map incorrectly, I’ll misunderstand someone, I’ll get turned around. You leave time.
An hour an a half later after being poked and prodded and measured and subjected to the Spanish Inquisition about my diet, my habits, and everything else about my health, Tenorio stood me, shoeless, on a sensor.
You’ve probably seen them. They enter your age, height and weight. The sensor tells you, based on your fat-to-muscle ratio, your biological age.
Tenorio made me get off three times and he reset the buttons three times. He didn’t believe the reading. I’m 73. My biological age is 49.
I was actually shocked, because I thought I had lost a lot more during the last seven years of surgeries.
To say the least I was pleased, but that doesn’t let me off the hook. There is plenty more hard work to be done.
After that, he was adamant about getting his hands on two years’ of recent tests. We detected wheezing in my lungs. I can feel it when I jog. Both of us want to know what’s going on.
Tenorio is now completely clear where my priorities are. He wants to be my drill sergeant. You and I by god want a drill sergeant who wants us to be at top health.
He’d entered every bit of information into my file himself while I answered questions and explained meds, or old meds, or surgeries. No receptionist, no layers and layers of nurses taking up your time before you see the good doctor for ten minutes.
So by the time we got to where he was about to leap on his motorcycle, late for his own dentist appointment; he was clear on what I wanted, I was clear on what he needed to get me there (excellent health with the body I have, not the body I used to have), and I had my marching orders.
I see him in two weeks. Meanwhile I am spending hours downloading lab and test results off the Internet for our next appointment. This is going to be fun. When is the last time you said that about your relationship with your doctor?
I read this yesterday morning. This is context:
My buddy Jim the Geek knows more about nutrition than his primary care provider. He studies, researches, reads good doctors and folks like Maria Cross . He’s had to argue and fight at times for his and his wife’s own health. His doctor admits that she can’t do her job.
None of them can, not really, not in our system.
Here, Tenorio does house visits, there’s no such thing as referrals, and while all the docs here hate insurance companies, they work hard to make sure you’re covered.
If you get really sick, these doctors huddle, and then show up, somehow sans tons of unnecessary paperwork, insurance interference and deadly delays.
The hour and a half with him cost me, wait for it……
Fifty bucks.
He’s a gift. We’ve got some work to do to form a fully-lubricated working relationship because my bleeding disorder is out of his experience. He gets to learn just like I do. But that is what medical care should look like.
Doctor. Not god. Not the Almighty. Not the be-all, end-all expert.
Doctore. From the Latin: to teach.
A good doctor - patient relationship is a constant educational journey for both.
But wait, there’s more.
For those who care about such things, and they do matter, I might no longer be 5’9” these days but my legs are just as long as they always were. That means that finding pants that aren’t pedal pushers is a chore in a world where everyone is shorter and slightly wider.
Shoes are also a challenge. At a 42 European, most shoes here don’t go above about a 36 for women. Ordering from overseas is fraught, lots of places claim to deliver here and don’t, and you’re out the money. One and done.
If you’re a Big and Tall, bring your own stuff. Lots of it. But be careful because if too much you get taxed because customs assumes you’re bringing it to sell here.
You also swiftly learn that the American return policy ends at the same place as ADA - at our borders. If you buy something here you own it, unless there is something seriously wrong.
Yesterday I bought a brand-new Panama hat which had some kind of big, broad water or sweat stain which I didn’t see until I got it home and into the light.
Because I bought it at a place where my friend knows the owner, that can likely be remedied. But the staples that didn’t fit the stapler? Mine now. The dog brush that doesn’t work on my dog? Mine now.
What it does do is cause you to be more mindful of what you buy so that you don’t waste money needlessly and also don’t end up tossing more into the trash bin.
Lessons we can all learn, no matter who we are or where we live.
I am off to the gym, now three hours later, because I took the time to talk to beloved friends back in the States. They help anchor this big decision, and remind me that those we love don’t go anywhere.
No longer do I try to cram ten things into a day. It took three weeks, six visits and ENDLESS paperwork to open two bank accounts. That’s a lesson in living in Ecuador.
Part of the time investment is that I no longer have a car. I can’t just fire up and head out. I walk everywhere within about a 45-minute radius ,which not only means time but also exercise, for which I am grateful.
You can piss and moan and bitch all you like. Things aren’t convenient, they aren’t easy. What a fine lesson in how addicted we all are to ease, without bothering to tally up the cost.
This is what I chose, this is what I get to learn to navigate.
Every morning I head out along a gorgeous river to jog- slowly mind you- to invite my lungs to expand. Apparently I’ve got some kind of problem with my lungs which we get to investigate. What’s heartening about this is while I’m not happy about it, I don’t have to wait months on end for all the referrals and permissions.
Tenorio is on this. And he’s tenacious.
I do not miss America. In the weeks since I left, I have watched the stress wash away. Other stresses exist, of course, but there is a different path forward which is dependent upon my willingness to work my ass off to get back in shape.
To choose the organic and ultra fresh food available daily, which here are not premium-priced and they are always widely available.
To do my own cooking and always choose the right oils and butter instead of trusting the restaurants to not use seed oils (they do).
To learn patience because absolutely everything is different, and my facility with the English language is nice but not terribly helpful in everyday life. There is plenty that is difficult, and plenty that is frustrating, but nothing that doesn’t offer a fine chance to learn.
Humbling as hell. Good for the brain, good for the soul and good for, well, life.
Let’s play.
Above: Mika and the toy making it impossible for Mom to concentrate.
Thanks to everyone for their eyeball time, kind support and comments. Please consider supporting my work. Be well, be safe.
Your willingness to put yourself in difficult, challenging situations and then report about them is a huge gift to the rest of us. As is pointing out the many things, including the convenience, that we all take for granted here and definitely should not. Pointing out that convenience does have a cost is really important.
I have been without a functioning refrigerator/freezer for nearly three weeks now. The $8,000 refrigerator that was here when we bought this house is still under warranty. And yet, LG refuses to cover the repairs necessary to keep this baby freezing like it should. After three repairs including two replacement compressors, our fully trained and accredited LG repairman can't get it fixed and LG has denied our claims for warranty support. So our only option was to buy a new refrigerator. We spent a mere fraction of $8,000 and it certainly is not an LG. Our current lack of convenience involved throwing out all sorts of food and buying ice every day for our coolers. It also means we are eating out much more often than we ever have in the past. There was a time when I would have loved eating out each day but like you I really want more control of how my food is cooked and what exactly I'm eating. It's certainly doable, particularly in the short term although having the delivery of our new refrigerator delayed for an additional week has added to the stress. Yes, we will be fine. Yes, at some point my husband will be able to have the popsicles he so craves. Yes, this is a first world problem I'm not used to dealing with. And, yes. I'm trying to bring your level of humor to the forefront. It's sort of like camping but with real flush toilets, running water and air conditioning!
I love that you walked to your doctor’s office (eventually!). He sounds like a gem.