GETTING OLD SUCKS

In my last entry I described how bodywork and getting back into shape are a deep focus for me right now.

But sometimes, when you get older, the universe has a different plan. Last Saturday my body decided to double down on this, and I was rushed to the Emergency Room at a nearby hospital. 

Spending two days in the hospital, the first twelve hours of which was spent in the ER trying to get the old ticker to decide on some sort of - any sort of - regular rhythm. Turns out I have this thing, previously undiagnosed, called atrial-fibrillation. Fans of medical tv shows will recognize the term "a-fib," meaning the atria, the top smaller parts of the heart, are out of sequence with the lower, larger ventricles.

Wake up call. I've already been focussed on trying to get back into shape, but this forces me to give up what are perhaps my last two real vices: caffeine and alcohol. And to add insult to injury, eat healthier and healthier foods. 

(To be honest, I had already started this process, but still had the intermittent ultra-processed foods. Those are now out.)

So here we are a week later, and I'm finally getting a quiet morning to do an assessment of where I am, and where I want to be.

First, the easy stuff. No caffeine or alcohol for a while. Anyone who knows me knows these are two big changes. Probably not permanent, but that will depend on the effectiveness of my long term plan. I am ramping back up into my exercise routine. The a-fib put a temporary dent in it, and I find my stamina is reduced.

I'm wearing a smart watch. For the first few days, before starting a new medicinal routine, my heartbeat was still all over the place, and continues to sit on the high end of normal. Resting, as I am right now, it's at 95. As the meds kick in and some other routines kick out, that should drop.

But what else can I do? For one thing, I know myself well enough that if I stay focussed I can get off the coffee and booze. I have that sort of mental "on, off" switch that, given sufficient rationale, can change a behavior pretty easily. I just need that sufficient cause. 

A-fib is a sufficient enough cause.

Second, the not so easy stuff.

I have, over the decades, taken a degree of pride in being more than a bit of an indulgent hedonist. At times too much, and that's one reason I'm paying the price now. Hell, I'm 62, I'm damned lucky it hasn't caught up with me before. And maybe in a more permanent fashion.

But I also know my personality well enough that it's not enough to simply delete a behavior. I need to replace it with something, and something I can perceptually feel is indulgent.

One such thing is bodywork. I've described my recent sessions with Mary, and will continue to enjoy her work on a monthly basis. As I've noted, the sensual rewards of a 90 minute combo massage works wonders with both my physical and psychological sides. The sense of touch, and being touched, is vital for a balanced human, in my opinion.

I plan to resume my sessions with my physical therapist. These are of a completely different nature, and I've had the unquestionable benefit of seeing him over two decades. I'm planning on seeing him twice a month with regularity. He's marvelous about taking care of the chronic conditions I have, and pretty damned good about being a mental counselor. Again, it's the contact, physical and mental, where I will derive the most benefit.

"Oh, hi. Didn't see you there."

I need to get back in the pool. The presence of a renter has prevented me from spending as much time swimming as I would like. But a couple weeks ago I assumed she'd gone to her room and to bed, so dived in and was swimming around when she came into the back yard to dump some trash. After an awkward couple of seconds I apologized and she replied "it's all good." So it appears she'll know if I'm in the pool, I'm nekkid.

I also am doing my morning cardio nude, as usual. As noted above I'm working back up. 30 minutes this morning. I ran across this excellent article on working out in the nude, and can wholeheartedly agree with the observations made. I not only feel better physically, but my mental state benefits as well. I feel better about myself, even though I'm forced to acknowledge I'm still too fat. I'm getting back the "two bodies" impression I had last year, which is a fit, toned underbody with a fat layer on top. They physically feel different.

One unfortunate aspect of the a-fib is a litany of new meds, some of which I fear are having a depressing effect on Lil Rambler. I'm not sure if it's situational or chemical, but erections are fewer than before. Again, it's only been a week. I've also found that I don't have the drive that I did before the event, so am researching the meds to see if one of them is a party pooper.

So, still a work in progress. More to come, undoubtedly. Sexually I'm reaching stage four of my life, I think. Stage one was pre-sexual, of course. Then sexual discovery (roughly 15-24). Then sexual waning (25-60). And now I find myself in a post-sexual environment -- not just sex with others, but my own physiological response. 

(Amusingly, my smartwatch sent an alert as I wrote that last sentence. My heart rate peaked at 115.😆)

So, my challenge, whether I choose to accept it or not, is to find a way to add a degree more sensuality and eroticism, not sexuality, to my life. To maintain my interest in my physiology amidst a feeling of personal pleasure. Not sex. That part of my life seems to have sunsetted (excepting masturbation, which is becoming less frequent). But I want the realm of physical pleasures - sensuality, as in the senses - to continue. The feeling of hands caressing my skin, the sensuality of water as I swim through it, the feel of the sun's warmth.

As far as simple nudity is concerned, I'm still doing a lot of it by normal standards. And as we know, the better my physical condition the lower my clothes count gets. I figure I spend around a third of every day nude, either sleeping, swimming, exercising or other. Again, I can't consider myself a nudist - I'm dressed right now, despite being alone - but know I'm an exhibitionist (even if nobody's watching) and feel comfortable naked around others (like Mary and my physical therapist).

(I *am* having a little bit of CFNM fun with my wife. I have a crescent-shaped area on my back where one of the cardio tabs stuck. It took off some skin when they pulled it off, and an hour later, after lying back on the gurney for a while I discovered some of the glue remained when I leaned forward to let a doctor listen to my heart and I felt the rest of the skin peel off. Nasty wound, which required Neosporin and a bandage. Of course she applies this as I get out of the shower, so get to stand there, naked as a jaybird, as she takes off the old bandage and applies the new. It's not much, but it's fun.)

Again, it's a new experience, with new parameters, so we'll see where it takes me.

Stay tuned.