These two old guys were sitting down and drinking coffee. This is what I overheard:
“I’m seeing Dr. Collins.”
“I’m seeing Dr. Smith.”
“Didn’t Smith move from Palm Springs?”
“Oh, you used to see Smith?”
“No but I heard he moved. Do you like him?”
“He doesn’t do anything about this fungus I have. I don’t think he cares.”
“Nothing you can do about fungus. If you find a cure for fungus you’re a zillionare.”
I hope the fungus guy lived an unhealthy life eating all the wrong foods and getting zero exercise. My wish is to live healthy until the end then just drop into my soup during dinner one night. That’s part of why I exercise and eat sorta right. I just want to keep the fungus and aches at bay.
I know that it’s not realistic to expect smooth sailing into my later years. I know too that I will sit around with my cronies and discuss the latest aches and pains since I do it now. The question it raises is how much control do we have over what we are like when we get older?
My brother-in-law is reading a book about diet and cancer that indicates most cancer is lifestyle related not genetics related. I’m not certain I buy it. My mother smoked like a chimney until dying at eighty years old. She drank like a fish also. In my ignorance I’m believing it’s a combination of both and that good genes and moderate conditioning equal engaging and enduring older years.
There are no promises that I’ll even make it though my wife promises to kill me if I don’t. For now though the thing to do is focus on the target. I’m going to exercise and eat well without getting crazy legalistic about either. That’s my hope—and that someone finds a cure for fungus and becomes a zillionare because they deserve it.