The sad, nostalgic and misery-inducing messages of old age. Suddenly I find myself assailed by them. They seem so bitterly cruel. That once-hale people proud of their independence have suddenly -- or not-so-suddenly as the case may be -- succumbed to the trials and tribulations of their body stuttering into worn agedness.

Yesterday, an email from an old friend in California who has shared with me over the years the happy and relevant stages of her family life from the time her children were young to the present, when her granddaughter has accepted her first employment as a lawyer. What she wrote was anything but celebratory. She and her husband used to go on adventurous trips everywhere around the world until he began faltering and died, last year. And since his death she has experienced no fewer than seven family deaths the latest of which she wrote of in this way:

She was supposed to have a cancer test every year, but she retired last year and lost her work coverage and under Medicare, they would not give her the cancer test.  This year they did when she was suffering so badly and found the cancer number high.  They then ran tests.  Barbara and I went up to met with the cancer doctor to hear ourselves what was found.  Carol lives in Eureka, which is in Northern California – a six-hour drive, much of it over mountainous roads.
I don’t drive much anymore, as it is very painful for me.  My feet are so bad that I had to have special shoes made.  We left while it was still dark and got to Eureka just when Carol and her husband Vic were going to leave for the doctor appointment.  We all went.  The news was not good.  The doctor did not come out and say she was dying, but it was implied.  He asked her if she wanted to have chemotherapy and she said yes.  He said that would buy her some time.  Actually it did not.  The first treatment was what really killed her. After the visit with the doctor we went next door to the hospital to talk with the 4 nurses in charge of the chemotherapy.  Carol knew some of them from her previous treatment. They made an appointment for 3 days later.  We then went back to Carol’s house and had to get on the road for the long drive home.
Carol had been on morphine as her pain was terrible.  They had hoped the chemotherapy treatment would relieve it some.  She was so weak that it had the opposite effect.  Vic had to rush her to the hospital and they had to give her morphine directly into her veins the next 11 days and she was in a semi-comma(sic) and did not know anything that was going on.  They talked about radiation, but said they were sending her home until she got stronger.  Of course they knew they were sending her home to die.
The day after she got home, I had some minor surgery on my foot, as I couldn’t not walk very well, and then the next day we made the trip to Eureka again.  They had set up a hospital bed for her, but I was horrified that they did not sent any oxygen home for her.  I recognize that she had pneumonia from her breathing as it was like my Dad’s and Charlie’s.  Her daughter came and I told Sandy that she had to call the doctor.  She did, but he said he couldn’t come out until the next day.  They did bring oxygen then, but Carol died that next night.

And then, there is my old friend from Toronto, from when we lived there from childhood to young adulthood, and the last time we saw one another was almost 50 years ago. She has been bringing me up to date on our old mutual friends:

 I now have Wheel-Trans with the TTC as I fractured my right pelvis in mid June and use a walker. I have booked Wheel-Trans to take me & 3 friends to Harbour Front on Labour Day.
E---- just came home from the hospital today, after being in since early morning Saturday when she called 911 as she had terrible pains in her back and legs.  She had loads of tests and it seems the cause of the pain is from her back, but they are not sure.  E----  had heart surgery about 11 or 12 years ago and became a diabetic after that.

They're our age. My own sister, four years younger than me is suffering from health problems that make her daily life quite difficult and her husband's health has now degraded to the point where he isn't much better shape. Perseverance is the common quality that they all bring to the experience of age and growing disabilities.

And we, we are so incredibly fortunate to be able to carry on with our lives with as yet only muted and gradual alterations in the integrity of our capacity to live life as we always have, with huge enthusiasm, curiosity and the exuberance of those whose physical capabilities have not yet been challenged beyond their ability to cope.