We all reach the age when we are faced with a frightening choice: should we suffer in silence, or risk telling those around us about our pains, knowing that it makes us one step closer to the nursing home?
Such is arthritis.
It would be rather unusual to hear sixteen-year-olds complaining about their arthritis. They do get toothaches, they get headaches, they suffer fatigue and they are grouchy. These are things they understand. Inflamed, sore joints that don’t want to move correctly is beyond the spectrum of the normal thinking of anyone under the age of fifty.
So if you are foolish enough to bring up your pain–and then commit social suicide by giving it the name “arthritis”–you will soon be categorized in the minds of these younger folks as ancient … and pre-death.
So how does one live a life of candor and escape being cataloged like a dusty, old book? As is the case with everything in life, choose your words carefully–and work your audience.
If you look around the room and everyone is over the age of sixty-five, you can casually mention that you have an occasional flare-up with arthritis. But if the room is filled with those who were born post-Watergate, you should probably refrain from mentioning that word. (Also avoid wincing when walking.)
For I will tell you, being young is contingent on two factors: (1) Staying hip with what’s going on in your world; (2) and not sharing the number of milligrams of Lipitor that you take.
Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) — J.R. Practix