Nic, Bupkis and Nichevo

About Nothing, by Nothing, with German-flavored cleavage occasionally thrown in for local color.

Name:
Location: Indianapolis, Indiana

You can email me at NicBupkusNichevo at aol dot com. Aren't you excited?

Tuesday, January 25, 2005

Getting Old

Glenn Reynolds posted recently about visiting his grandmother in her rehab facility, and one of his readers responded with a story about her own mother's care in such a place. I have two terrors about growing old, neither of which are nearly as warm and fuzzy as Reynold's entry depicts, and they're both wrapped up in growing old alone.

I'm divorced and have no kids. I'm not close to any of the extended family. I've written a very specific living will to cope with my terrors, but unless there's someone around to execute it it's really rather pointless. I am literally shaking-in-my-boots terrified by the idea of aging and/or dying alone. I often joke about being the crazy old lady on the corner with nothing but cats for company, but the truth is that it's not really all that funny. I have visions of turning into lunch meat for the cats until the stench finally drives a neighbor to call the cops. Worse yet is the notion that my already tenuous hold on reality will fail once my family has either died or drifted away. Spending the rest of my days a drooling blob of tissue tied upright in a wheelchair, warehoused, no one giving a damn about "that one over there"...I can't bear the thought. So what do you do if there's no one to protect you? Rely on the state? Yeah, as if.

Need to find something more cheerful to write about. I know, BOOBS!

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