I seem to have developed a very positive relationship with my family doctor. It is a good thing because I am in contact with her a bit more than I think might be normal. Then again I have never before been this age and I am not sure what is normal for my age and stage in life. When I was a young adult, I was a pilot, which meant that I needed to have a Class III medical certificate. The certificate required an annual physical by a flight surgeon that included general health, vision and color vision checks, and a few other tests. I didn’t worry much about the examination except for the vision portion. I’ve worn glasses or contact lenses since I was 6 years old and each year I emerged from my medical exam with a notation on my certificate that required me to not only wear glasses when exercising the privileges of my airman’s certificate, but that I also carry a spare pair of glasses with me when flying. I kept an extra pair of glasses in my flight bag so they were always at hand. Never did I need to reach for the extra pair when flying, but they were there.

These days I don’t worry much about eye exams. I’ve been told by my optometrist that I have some early stage cataracts, but that there is no need to proceed with surgery until they become more prominent and there is no predicting when that will be. I’ve had a lot of friends, including my wife, who have had successful cataract surgery and I’m not worrying about that one and so far, I have been able to obtain corrective lenses for my vision deficiencies. As far as I know I’m seeing well and I am able to do the things I enjoy such as reading, playing music, driving, and going on outdoor adventures without a problem. I’m pretty careful to wear a strap on my glasses when paddling so that they don’t get lost should I take an unplanned dip into the water. It has happened to me before.

What seems to be the case, however, is that being past 70 means that little things crop up. I’ve learned by experience that scanning symptoms on Web MD or the Mayo Clinic site late at night isn’t a way to promote an optimistic outlook on life. In general my symptoms are not indicative of all of the various calamitous conditions about which I read on web sites that are supposed to help people with illness. I find checking in with my family doctor to be much more reassuring when little symptoms persist. And, when I did have something serious going on - when atrial flutter suddenly showed up - she was quick to respond, make a referral to a specialist, and help me arrange for prompt and helpful follow up.

Mostly, however, being in my seventies doesn’t mean severe illness. It means a few more general aches and pains that I remember being a part of my life when I was younger. I have had a bit of swelling in one of my ankles the past few days. At first I thought it was sprained. However the symptoms match a condition I had in the other foot a few years ago which was determined to be mild edema. Being careful about salt intake, wearing compression stockings, and being sure to elevate my feet when sitting and reading provided a solution. Those are things I can do without needing to consult my doctor.

I seem to be less sure these days about when to consult with the doctor and when to apply simple home remedies.

I do know that I don’t want to discuss my symptoms with everyone. I have a friend who is quite an expert in natural remedies, medicinal plants, and such. If I so much as mention a symptom to her I’m likely to go home with some kind of tea or poultice that is supposed to solve my problem but about which I know nothing and lack the usual confidence that inspires successful treatment with placebos.

The last thing I want to be in my old age is someone who is constantly complaining about my health. After all, if there is one thing that I would like to communicate to younger people about attaining my age is that it isn’t as bad as I had imagined. In fact, I’m not wishing to turn back the clock at all. I’ve had a good life to be sure, but I have no need to repeat any of it. I feel like I’ve earned the measure of wisdom I possess through a lifetime of making mistakes.

Actually, it isn’t that strange being in my seventies. I know that I used to think that such an age was old, but my friends who have moved on into their eighties keep inspiring me with their clear thinking and lively discussion. Somehow my sixties sped by much faster than I expected and I’ve weathered some of the greatest life changes including retirement, to which I did not take too kindly, especially on my first attempt. Selling our home of 25 years and moving over a thousand miles away to a whole new climatic zone took a bit of adjustment, but it turns out that it was a good thing to do. I’ve learned to say good bye to some of my possessions and I’m appreciating my somewhat trimmed down lifestyle. A smaller home is a bit less work and a smaller yard makes a bit difference. I used to budget two hours a week to mow my lawn. These days if I’ve taken a half hour it means that I’ve been taking it slow and stopping to dig in the garden along the way.

Being in my seventies allows me to worry just a little bit less. I can still get myself into a tizzy about the challenges our children face as parents of lively young ones, but I am also amazed and encouraged by their competence as parents. I think we were mostly winging it when our kids were that age. They seem to have things under control a bit better than we did. Then again, I know that appearances can be deceiving.

I’m learning to calm down and make jokes about my forgetfulness and to give myself permission to make mistakes from time to time. Others seem to be remarkably accepting of my failings and willing to give me a second chance.

I’ve got another birthday coming up in a couple of months. I plan to wear the new digit after the 7 with pride and joy. I’ve been through a lot to get this far and as far as I know I’ve got plenty more birthdays ahead. I am, however, grateful to have a doctor who answers my email questions with amazing patience.