Aging, thankfully, is an effortless transformation; having to work at it would be a pain in the ass. Instead, every morning — after putting on my glasses of course — I eagerly gaze into the mirror. What new magic did the Fairy of Death work upon my face as I slept? Puffy eyes that last a little longer each day? A slightly deeper brow furrow? Or maybe a long chin bristle that I can feeI but not see without my glasses and a magnifying mirror? Every day brings me a little closer to becoming the scary old lady I know is trapped inside.

One aspect of getting older that does require effort is collecting doctors. It is not easy to find doctors one is comfortable with and that accept our insurance. As of now, I have a GP, a dentist, a gynecologist, a dermatologist, and a chiropractor. Once I find a good psychatrist I’ll have a full set!

Everyone knows that having doctors means having prescriptions, which also means plenty of pharmacy visits. I imagine that some time in the next ten years, I’ll have been to the local RiteAid so often, there will come a day when I’ll hobble in and the staff will yell “Norm!”

On a recent visit, as I sat waiting for a prescription to be filled, a gray-haired man of about 70 stepped to the counter. The clerk cheerfully asked, “How are you today?” The man replied with the gusto of a man twice his age, “Still vertical – so that’s something.”

“I told the doctor I broke my leg in two places. He told me to quit going to those places.” —Henny Youngman (1906 – 1998)