I am still recovering from my surgery in September. I wish I had have been told that it would be such a long recovery. In a couple of days it will be two months later and I no longer need to wear 'the girdle'. Sometimes I have it off and it is a relief, but sometimes it is nice to put it back on and have no irritation from clothing. Hanging loose is not always good.
I suppose most of my readers are of a certain age, so I expect some will connect with what I am saying.
Even before my op, I started thinking about my age and how old I was. Fortunately I have kept my looks, my hair and my physique, so outwardly I present ok. (the first person who comments otherwise will get a good slapping)
Seriously, I am starting to think about the future without me. Will I die a quick and sudden death? Will I die a long painful one? Will I be able to stay home and die in my surrounds? Will there be anyone around to care for me? Or will I die in a horrible hospital? Will my genes kill me? Will my lifestyle kill me? Will my environment kill me? Will I die from work stress?
Will Little Jo in the future google herself and find her baby and toddlerhood irredeemably Pandored? Will she know that I loved her with a passion as strong as her fave Uncle R? She is more than the sum of the parts.
Every so often I hear things that will might or will happen in the future, and they excite me and things I want to be around for. 2030 is not unreasonable for me is it? Surely by then we will have a Rosie the Robot and jetpack travel?