It's not my birthday, but I'm feeling older today. Maybe it's because I'm waiting for my first pair of bifocals. I ordered them on Saturday and now I'm waiting for the phone call telling me my glasses are ready. I'm looking forward to getting them. I can't see my insulin pump screen. Unless, I drop my insulin pump on the floor, then I can see it just fine.
My cats were neutered and spayed last week. The surgery went fine, and everything is going perfectly with their recoveries. However, in the office when it came time to write the check, I couldn't see what I was writing. I feel like I have drops in my eyes from the eye doctor and everything up close is fuzzy, only it doesn't go away.
I'm getting older. My nephew is getting married in August. Thinking about this is making me happy, and amazed. My hair is turning salt and pepper. My hands have wrinkles. It's weird to watch this happening. It's wonderful to watch this happening.
I was seven days shy of my 29th birthday when I found out I had thymoma cancer. Instead of scheduling a 29th birthday party, I was scheduling a sternotomy and resection. All I wanted for my 29th birthday was a 30th birthday. Now I'm old enough to need bifocals. I'm aging. I've lived long enough to show signs of aging. How wonderful is that?