• 
• 

Published on November 25, 2007

 Nat says

Blessings often come in disguise, but so do insults. Getting my eyes checked recently, I was delighted to find that they had improved. My prescription had once been about 250, but now, apparently, it was down to 75.

It must have been those exercises I'd been doing. You know, working the ocular muscles, reading in good light.

The optometrist, however, was merciless. "You're becoming farsighted. It may seem like your vision is improving, but actually it is deteriorating. For the moment, your eyes are balancing out but soon they will go back to what they were. Then you will also need reading glasses."

I resisted the urge to slit my wrists. Was I that old? Brochures for bifocal contact lenses suddenly seemed compelling reading.

The dread in my eyes must have been obvious because the optometrist laughed. "You won't need bifocals for a long time!" she said.

Oh thank God. "Really?" I asked.

"Really", she said, "not for another two or three years".

That stupid woman was young enough to be my daughter. When you're that young, two years is an eternity. A clear sign of ageing is that two years seem to go by in two weeks.

Becoming farsighted may not have been the beginning of the end, but it was surely the beginning of old age. And aren't they one and the same?

One would think it would be a good thing to get old in Asia. People have more respect for their elders here. My grandmother was widowed at my age and, by that time, she was considered a grand old lady. Rather than stressing that she was still young and capable, she terrorised everyone with demands because, after all, she was old.

That's how I want to grow old. I want to terrorise people. I want to be in control. I want to be respected. What I don't want is to be laughed at by young optometrists.

But the reality of ageing is that no matter where in the world we live, our personal effectiveness declines and we become dependent on others. Our knees buckle, our backs get stiff and our vision declines.

It is only when others actually do as we tell them that being old is okay. The frustration of not being able to do something by ourselves is assuaged by the fact that we can force others to obey.

Such obedience, however, is life in an ideal world. What actually happens in Asia is that, in our youth, we put aside our own happiness in service of our elders, believing that our time will come. And then, when we get old, we find that the respect we command is balanced by our reduced physical - and sometimes mental - capacity. By the time we get old, we can't do anything for ourselves and with that comes resentment - that we wasted our youth trying to make our elders happy.

My new goal in life is to stop myself before that happens to me. There must be a compromise that doesn't involve either resentment or powerlessness. But what?

Cat says

 Every year, November swings around

and I find myself thinking, "It's almost Christmas again, I have no idea what to get anyone. How can we be into the end of the year already? Where did the year go?" This year has been no exception. As I look for suitable Christmas cards, I find it difficult to accept that there are only five more weeks left before 2007 is no more.

I am certain that I'm not the only one who feels that the years are flying by almost unnoticed (except when I look at my children). Forgive me if I sound a bit too sentimental for someone in her early 40s, but becoming conscious - however faintly - of one's own mortality is slightly disturbing.

Most of Bangkok's newly renovated plush private hospitals offer checkup programmes especially designed for the over-40s, ie, the full works to ensure all their new equipment can be deployed.

When I came out of my annual checkup at the hospital this year, I found myself planning my own funeral, the news the doctor told me was depressing to say the least, and it all to do with being in my 40s, and watching my lifestyle!

With a teenage son, and a daughter aged 10 going on 18, I suppose I do feel rather over the hill sometimes. I have started to count my grey hairs and, when I visit a fortune-teller, I now worry that she may offer to read my face rather than my palm.

To be honest, even though my doctor told me I needed to ease my socialising and drinking, in reality I don't really feel a day older than 30 (I would have said 25 two years ago).

Having a positive attitude, and being open to new experiences is a part of keeping one's zest for life.

The one good thing that came out of my recent check up is that my regular regime has paid off, my heart is in excellent order.

I have also come to realise the importance of having an annual checkup, when you go beyond 40, your body definitely needs an MOT just like an old car, especially living in a polluted modern city environment.

Want an opinion on something? Cat and Nat can be contacted at NnaSWild@aol.com.