Shit happens: do I need to give up drinking? skiing? traveling?

A closer look at how I’m slowly, stubbornly, acknowledging the realities of my aging body.

When I fell smack on my face on the sidewalk a few months ago it was a painful wake-up call. It proved that I’m an old lady at 73, that my wonky vision (I have little depth perception) is a real liability, and that, statistically, I might fall again, even if I’m careful.

There was one thing I didn’t tell you about the incident. We’d gone out to a lively restaurant/bar several hours earlier and I’d had an old fashioned, just one, my cocktail of choice. Was this a contributing factor to the fall? I’m pretty sure the effects of one drink had worn off, but that question lingers. I’m not a big drinker; I’ve been reading the reports about how alcohol is poison¹, literally, and quietly considering my own intake. I know my tolerance for alcohol is much lower, that my body doesn’t metabolize it in the same way, as I get older. But sometimes I just want to say to hell with it, and have one stiff drink, regardless of the consequences. (If I have more than one cocktail, I bolt awake at 1 or 2 AM, because of the effects.)

Similarly, I’m newly realizing that overseas trips have a downside for me (and my husband). As much as we relished our recent trip to Japan, we are both acknowledging that long distance travel is very hard on our 70-something bodies. We both came home from Japan with a wicked case of the flu, lasting two weeks and counting, longer than the trip itself.

And speaking of our trip, the first day we skied in Niseko, I fell THREE times…