BLOOD AND DONUTS

Yesterday was my day to donate to the Blood Source. http://www.bloodsource.org/ This might be considered a generous act, and perhaps it is, but I have to admit to ulterior motives!

First, when you are my age, there isn’t much of you that people want any more – I’m too old to be even tested for bone marrow, my eyes are dim, my donatable organs have been pretty much used, although I proudly carry my donor card. The blood bank loves my blood – and they love my platelets even more. They call me up when its time for me to donate, they thank me profusely even before I have made the appointment.

Yesterday, as I walked in to be interviewed, I was handed a certificate for a “pint for a pint” of Baskin Robbins ice cream. (http://www.baskinrobbins.com/) I now have almost enough to have my own ice cream social. All I need are the strawberries, bananas, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, pineapple, nuts and cherries. I have a stunning variety of tee shirts from the blood bank! Then, since I am a platelet donor, I get weighed. That is, perhaps, for me, the hardest part of donating platelets. They never weighed me when I gave whole blood. They took my word for my weight, which remained unchanged year after year, despite all visible evidence to the contrary. So I take off my shoes, glasses, watch, etc. and close my eyes while they do this.

Giving platelets takes longer, from one to two hours depending on how many they are taking. They settled me in and gave me a choice of movies – a huge choice of movies. Yesterday they were doing one unit of platelets and one of packed red blood cells, so I didn’t think 67 minutes was time enough for a movie. Retired people are particularly valuable platelet donors – because we have the time. With platelets we can give more often. There it is – another senior advantage. It is not every day I get the chance to lie back and read a good book for 67 minutes.

Blood bank people are amazing. The phlebotomists (great word!) have never missed with me. The 67 minutes pass quickly.

Then comes the really good part – the donuts. Only when I give blood can I justify eating a wonderful, sinful, donut! As I sit savoring each bite, I pick up a heart shaped sticker that says “Be nice to me today, I gave blood”. I attach it to my forehead for the ride home.

I have now given 79 units of blood. (You get extra credit – two for one – for donating platelets or packed red cells.)(Women are no longer allowed to give plasma at our blood bank). One more pint of blood and I will have given ten gallons – and will be eligible for the Blood Source’s annual dinner. Fred has offered to take me out to dinner for no blood, and I must say I’ve taken him up on that lots of times – but this dinner will be special. I will wear a blood source tee shirt!

THE EARLY BIRD AND ALL THAT FOOLISHNESS

A typical garden on our walk

Every morning, as part of my senior fitness program, I get up at six in order to walk at seven with my friend and neighbor, Rosemary. Although we are both retired, we walk early to beat the heat. Before I leave the house I turn on the whole house fan, and by the time I get home an hour later, it is time to close up the house and turn off the fan, as the temperature outside is already rising to a less than comfortable level.

Rosemary is walking as part of her training for a pilgrimage across Spain. I am walking to stave off old age. This week Rosemary is off learning Spanish. I am forced to exert enormous amounts of self discipline, and walk on my own. So far, two days out of two, I have done that.

Later in the day, when I treat myself to something delicious and sinful, I justify my excesses by the fact that I have walked. When my children succumb to the temptation to raise their parents, I can tell them that I have walked. We’re proud of you, they say.

We pass some spectacular yards and gardens on our walk. I am impressed by the creativity and talent of my neighbors. My plants struggle to survive. If there were a Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Plants, I think my plants would turn me in.

Inspired by my neighbors, Fred and I bought some plants in pots. We think our soil is unhealthy,

home to lots of moles and gophers and other root eating creatures. Pots supply the instant gratification we crave – none of this waiting for seeds to germinate. We have lined our walk with gopher-proof wine barrels and deer resistant flowering plants in pots.

Our friendly gophers

Each day we are barked at or sniffed by dogs, glared at by families of wild turkeys, honked at by families of geese. We watch some neighbors retrieve their morning papers, and others leave for work. We gloat a bit that we don’t have to do that any more, although both of us secretly miss the work we did. As we discuss our plans for the day, we marvel at how very full our days are, and wonder how we ever had time for work in the first place.

Soon Rosemary will be walking with her backpack. Not me. I shall admire her stamina in much the same way as I admire my neighbors’ gardens.

Rosemary, next week

Wii Fit for Seniors

First of all – let me clarify. At 73 I’m really not a senior, I’m in the second half of middle age.

Now that that’s clear, here I am, hurtling down a ski jump at 50 mph, knees bent, – I reach the lip of the jump and I’m off, leaning forward, skis together, perfect form, and wow – I made 270 feet. The best part of that is I don’t have to climb the steps to the top of the lift to jump again.

Fred and I gave each other a Wii console, including the Wii Fit for our 50th anniversary. Like many people my age my great fear is falling. A sprain, tear or break could lead to a pretty radical change in life style, and I don’t want that to happen to me.

So, with the Wii Fit, I stand on the balance board and do a series of exercises that not only improve my balance (believe it or not I can stand on one leg now!) but I can do yoga, aerobics and strength exercises in my living room. Each day as I get on I am measured, and my balance is evaluated. I am given a “Wii Fit” age, and a few times I’ve even been in my 20’s. I have a choice of personal trainers who give me encouragement. “Well done” they say, or “It looks like you’ve had trouble with that one. Keep trying.”

The animated trainers are depressingly agile, but I mind it less than I think I would with real people at a gym. In my living room, I’m not competing with slender young women in the early part of middle age.

I love the balance exercises, the salaam skiing and ski jumping. I’ve done pretty well with the snow board, too. I am terrible at the hula hoop, but I am full of admiration for my granddaughter, Elizabeth, who at 7 is a real pro. Ten year old Nate is best at the push up/plank exercises. In fact, it is Nate’s record that I try to beat ski jumping. That isn’t likely to happen any time soon. The boxing coach is downright insulting, but I don’t box much in real life anyway.

The Wii Fit was released in May of 2008, and is already the fifth best selling game of all time according to the Wikipedia. Maybe that’s because it’s fun and probably good for you whatever age you are. Combining the regimens of the Wii Fit with my daily walks around the neighborhood, will keep me, I hope, in the latter half of middle age for a long time.

I understand that there is a Wii Fit Plus coming out. I’m happy with what I have, but it’s nice to know that if I tire of it there will be more. I wonder if the Wii Fit Plus will have an upper middle aged slightly overweight personal trainer?