I’ll be half a century old later this year. I’m very much middle aged, and honestly, I’m ok with that. I’m not planning on having a mid-life crisis. Having said that, I have found myself thinking about my aging choices. Namely: gracefully, or not. For me, graceful aging would mean accepting that things will start going gently downhill from now. Ok, I understand that’s a given, whether I like it or not, but I guess my question is how much I should fight back. I’d like to call it future-proofing, or making sure I’m grandmother-ready. Even though I don’t anticipate grannyhood any time soon, I plan to be fit enough to enjoy it if and when it happens. Some things, I’d argue, are no-brainers, like keeping fit, eating well and keeping the brain juice flowing. Then there’s the somewhat more controversial things like HRT. Lastly, the practically taboo things, like botox or actual surgery.

I’m lucky, I think I’ve mastered the art of reasonably healthy eating. I’m not fanatical about it, I think life’s too short to cut anything out entirely. There’s always room for the odd gin and tonic and occasionally I’d even argue that it’s ok to reach a level of intoxication that is downright frowned upon by the medical establishment! I mean, there’s always ibuprofen. I may have mentioned on a few occasions that a life without chocolate would be pointless. And while I could and should live without sausages and other processed meats, I don’t really want to. These proscribed comestibles should be consumed in moderation, for sure. But not banned. I’ve cut down on meat and milk for the sake of the planet, only because we now have some reasonably tolerable substitutes. But on balance I’m happy to take a few enjoyable risks with my diet because food and celebrations are so inexorably linked, and I’m always up for a party. I’m pretty good at the whole exercise thing too, which helps compensate for my slightly lax attitude to “bad” carbs! The fine equilibrium that I’ve established over the years might come crashing down as my metabolism starts to slow but I’ll deal with that when I have to. Recently I’ve been focusing on the old grey matter. I don’t like cross words and I’ve never understood soduku so I was a bit worried about cognitive decline! I’ve always been an avid reader which is undoubtedly helpful, but hardly challenging. Happily, I’ve gradually been developing a piano habit which started a few years ago just to see if I could accompany Only Daughter on her clarinet. I can’t say we’ve been a dream team! To our eternal credit, we have managed a few pieces together but our efforts so far have not been glorious! I live in hope, but being a pragmatist, I’ve also started playing just-for-piano pieces. Just for me. And if this boosts my grey matter, so much the better. I mentioned in a previous post that I’d started learning Greek. I’m having a lot of fun with that. I’m more of a natural linguist than musician, and progress there is much more tangible even though it hasn’t been very long. If that doesn’t electrify my synapses, I don’t know what will. Apart from writing a blog, obviously! And increasing my work hours. Boy did that get the neurons firing on all cylinders. And just when I thought I’d figured it out, they changed the computer software and went paperless which was harsh. Taking blood is one thing, but begging a computer to give you the correct labels so you can send it to the labs and hope to get the results you asked for… that’s another level of pain. There may have been a few tears of anguish. Unfortunately the cerebellum expansion that might have resulted from figuring it all out may have been wiped out by the extra gin and tonics that were self-prescribed to deal with the horror. Oh well, you win some, you lose some!

So that’s the non-controversial stuff. What about HRT? I hadn’t actually given it much thought until I came across Davina Macall’s book on the subject. That and Women’s Hour (Radio 4, 10am every morning, you’re welcome), which every man should listen to (women mostly already know). Upon realising what probably lay ahead in terms of menopause, I felt it looked decidedly unappealing. Not a single woman I’d spoken to had anything positive to say about it so I decided to bypass it. I took myself to the GP and asked for the drugs. My initial request fell on male ears. He felt I should take my chances and come back symptomatic. I’m not saying he was wrong, but I would argue that those pesky night sweats and hot flushes and brain fogginess were precisely what I was looking to avoid at all costs. Imagine if men had the menopause and their testosterone levels came crashing down, causing untold mayhem in their testosterone-acclimatised bodies. I’m pretty sure there’d be TRT and that it would be universally prescribed to all carriers of the Y chromosome. Sure, I know there are risks associated with taking the HRT but nothing is completely safe and there are some definite long term benefits too. I went back to (a woman) GP and got a prescription. No night sweats on my horizon. I take sleeping very seriously. I’m really good at it and I plan to keep it that way!

So what about the B word? Botox? Or plastic surgery. Is that a bit too mid-life-crisis and unfeminist? And when should I stop dyeing my hair? I have dabbled in Botox but it’s expensive and doesn’t last that long so I’m not sure the cost benefit ratio is acceptable. I’m not averse to the odd laughter line though, and if I’m frowning at you, I’m keen for you to know it! But I’m not ruling it out. Surgery? I struggle to reconcile my tendency to accept that as a viable choice (as long as it’s discrete and doesn’t make you look perma-startled) with my feminist ideals (why should women even feel the need to consider it?) So who knows. At some point I’ll have to consider going grey but I’m in no hurry. I may be middle-aged and less visible, but that doesn’t mean I accept the inevitability of invisibility. If that’s disgraceful, I can live with it!