I DON'T WANT TO GROW OLD!

Man!
I DON'T!

Working in a rehab/nursing home has definately shown me the many ways to grow old. So far, I haven't seen one I like. I walk around and work with elderly people all day. Some of them are great and old and crickety. Some are bitter old hags, and feisty old men, those who are just barely there and we have to go in and stretch out their limbs so they don't curl up and stay that way.
Now...see..some of, well mostly all of them are between the ages of 70 and 100 yrs old. They all wear diapers and some of them get spoon fed and some have peg tubes that go right in their stomach to feed them.
None of those is the way I want to be around that age.
If I make it to that age.
I don't want to lose my hair, my teeth, my sight,my hearing OR my mind.
My old PT boss and I would talk about how we were going to be when we were old. We decided on just being dropped off at a nudist colony. A permanent resident. We could walk around naked and just shit as we go. I don't want anyone wiping my ass for me. There's a nice pool somewhere on the premises..I'll just cruise one throught it a couple of times and I would be bathed too.
A lot of elderly don't even know how to clothe themselves.
Not a problem at 'The Colony'.
Shoot. I don't need a bra there. No underware. No diapers. NADA. All of our junk would just be hanging and swishing back and forth. We don't friggin care. Just have a buffet laid out and a couple of cot here and there. Cause I don't want to be the one who forgets where my room is. If I'm sleepy...there's a cot...gimmie a blanket and pillow.

Anyway...the reason for my rant..was cause an elderly male resident was just cursing me out today during my treatment with him. He was really in an uproar during lunchtime. Something about getting too much food on his plate and having to go to his car and get more money to have to pay for it all.
They don't pay for their food there. I mean, insurance pays it but not at their tableside.
He was confused about all of that and he thought he could just stand up from his wheelchair and walk. Not happenin. He could barely lift himself out of the seat.
I was just trying to get him to propel his wheelchair back to his room because he didn't want to do anything else. The whole way down the hall he was telling me to get away from him and swatting at me. Anyone he came into contact with was getting verbally attacked. I finally got him to his destination.
Tomorrow, he may have a different attitude. Either way, I'm definately going to treat him BEFORE lunch.



I still don't want to grow old.
To me...there's no way to do it gracefully.