I had a rather sobering thought the other day, whilst dealing with my usual everyday angsty whiny stuff. It' was anything but Big Deal Important, but maybe the first time I ever had the thought in these words: "This is as good as I'm gonna get". Physically, that is.

Many of us who are aging are facing, have faced, will face weakness and arthritis, pain, and fatigue, bad knees, hips, shoulders (Everybody sing! "Head, shoulders, knees and toes, knees and toes!") (Thank you). In some cases, sing hallelujah, medication, diet changes, walking, surgery will fix a lot of the nasties.

But I am pretty much where I have been for ages, with a few weirdnesses here and there. A sudden "hey! what was that?" happens still. Things come and go, return spitefully, show up when I am too busy (Shhhhhhh. I am almost never too busy with anything. But t sounds good.) And that means

a) power wheelchair for the rest of my life

b) narcotic pain medication for the rest of my life

c) having to live in "handicapped/ADA/senior" housing of some kind for the rest of my life because, well, see a) above. This probably means apartment living, not a house, not something with character. As I've lived the last almost two years now.

d) having to pay folks to do stuff for me for the rest of my life. Cleaning, moving, heavy lifting.

e) having to ask friends to do stuff for me for the rest of my life. Bring stuff to the charity shop, meet me somewhere close because I can't get to where you are, grabbing stuff for me when I cannot reach, helping yourself because I cannot fetch for you when you are here. Occasionally driving me places because I will not be getting my license again.

f) missing much/most of the socializing that goes on around me because my world is Wheelchair World, and it doesn't overlap all that much with Everyday World. Steps. It doesn't matter if there is one or if there are 17, I can't go up or down steps. it doesn't matter if you can walk on the gravel or mud, where I cannot wheel.

I am immensely grateful to be living in the future. This 21st century stuff in the US which is nowhere near as easy to live in as it should be, is still wonderful. I often imagine myself in places or times where I could not have managed. New Orleans. What if Stu and I had been there during Katrina? Mendocino. I so adore that town and could never ever live there. Cross-country travel. Packing, airport transport, praying the ADA room I reserved has not been given away to an early arrival. Historical anyplace. The Van Gogh Museum. Nagano. The Art Institute of Chicago. Greece. Berdichev. Carmel. Tuscany.

I am going on 63 and this is as physically able and intact as I'm going to be. Sobering? If I weren't already so damn sober, yeah. I'd love to draw a conclusion here about "well, if this, then at least that" but I got nuttin'. I've got a bed full of books, computers clothes pillows and adorable little stuffed toys. And that's as good as it's gonna get.