Being 62

A couple of events have triggered a revival of the diary begun 2 years ago chronicling my decline into decrepitude. Firstly arrival of my 2-yearly poo test results (thankfully negative, so we won't be reporting the indignities of bowel cancer in the near future). And secondly the results of an X-ray showing osteoarthritis in my right hip.

Yep, I'd been having some pain at the top of my leg for several months. It hadn't stopped me doing anything and would mostly occur when turning over in bed. But then I got a couple of short sharp shocks which stopped me in my tracks while shovelling wood chip for the paths in Sharphill Wood and decided I should go see Dr Loverseed.

Since the X-ray a few things have made sense - the fact that it was hard to describe where the pain was (haven't had joint pain before); the frequent "are you limping" question from C when we're out shopping (I wasn't aware I was). And I've noticed that if I'm standing, the weight is always on my left leg, not the right. So I must have known about the problem, without registering it.

I'm now more aware of discomfort during the day as well. And suddenly I see guys walking slowly with a stick with renewed sympathy. Almost the first article I read on a Google search said 'many patients need replacements after 1-5 years'. What a depressing thought. There doesn't seem to be anything I can do to slow down or stop the progress of this condition.

Why the right leg? Maybe because it made nearly all of the passes, shots, tackles during my weekly games of football for the best part of 30 years?

I am definitely not alright with this situation. It sucks. Most people over the age of 80 have 3 or 4 age-related diseases. I have one already. Nearly all the stuff that I wanted to do in my last few years of active life involves either walking short or long distances or other physical activity; now it seems this phase of life may be much briefer than I'd hoped. Better get stuck in!