Childhood, adult, middle age: the journey from cute to comatose

Posted by Catherine on Feb 3, 2010 in Aging, Friends |

Amber, Jackie, and I have been friends since high school. (I’m using different names and identifying characteristics, so that jail time may be avoided.) Over the years, our conversations have changed along with our hairstyles and threshold for pain.

This has never been more apparent than in the last few weeks. We used to talk about men, music, and wardrobe malfunctions. We can still remember a time when we’d drop everything for a Jane’s Addiction concert or road trip to Mardi Gras. We used to be fun. We used to be hot.

Lately, at the end of our conversations, one of us will invariably wonder,

“What have we become?”

Hell if I know. You tell me where sexy went.

Amber: How’s our week shaping up? I have to see my gynecologist sometime soon.

Jackie: I have to see my GI doctor tomorrow.

Amber: What’s that about?

Me: Hemorrhoids?

Jackie: I thought my body was rejecting these organic beets I’d been eating. But then I stopped eating them and grabbed a Hemoccult test from the medicine cabinet. It came back positive so I had to call the doctor.

Amber: Who has a Hemoccult test in their medicine cabinet?

Jackie: I do. Right next to my Xanax.

Me: Why do you need to see your doctor, Amber?

Amber: Polyps in my uterus, but getting rid of them might make me fertile. The polyps contribute to a painful period, but I don’t want to become a mommy at forty-one. What should I do?

Jackie: Get rid of the polyps and consider birth control pills.

Amber: No. They turn me into Dr. David Banner when he’s “angry.” Maybe I’ll just leave the polyps in there, name them and become a happy family without having to pay for them to go to college.

Me: That time of the month was rough for me, too. Two years after giving birth, I still couldn’t see my feet. I called it “baby weight,” but it had more to do with baklava. I finally started eating right again and exercising, lost the weight, got into yoga, gave up caffeine, cut back on drinking and my periods are no longer a problem.

Amber: But you’ve taken to mumbling, pulling your hair out, and screaming into pillows.

Me: When the boys started talking in complete sentences, I turned to whiskey for a while. But I’ve been fine since then.

Jackie: Amber, you should quit smoking. That would help, too. (To her husband) Boo, hand me my lighter.

Amber: I’m sure you’re both right, but quitting everything will take a reality show, three sponsors, two personal trainers, four psych grads from Harvard Medical School, and a partridge in a pear tree.

Jackie: Have you ever tried quitting coffee, Kate?

Me: It can’t be worse than nursing twin sons through chicken pox with nothing stronger than green tea in the house.

Amber: I stopped drinking coffee once, but after two hours I couldn’t take it anymore and popped a Sudafed. It was the “non-drowsy-have-to-sign-a-waiver-form-so-they-don’t-think-I’m-cutting-meth-with-it” original formula. But at least I woke up and stopped drooling on myself.

Jackie: We all have to promise, right now, that if we become widows, we will take care of each other.

Me: I went to synagogue last week and saw three little old ladies. I kept thinking about the three of us. One of them passed out because she took a Xanax.

Jackie: I’m in touch with that experience.

Me: Luckily every other congregant is a doctor. They carried her to the back row so she could sleep it off.

Jackie: Nice! Best way to get through services.

Amber: You guys are all I got. If Jackie stays on Lexapro and Katie stays away from soy, I will cut back on caffeine and start exercising. We will be rocking a retirement community before we know it.

Me: Now I understand why our conversations depress me.

Amber: Maybe you need Lexapro.

Jackie: Don’t hang up. We have to discuss my colonoscopy and which meds go with wine.