Sweet Aftertaste: A Dose of Respect

After the chalky taste of the powder, the sweet aftertaste of the vitamins is a welcome relief. Every morning 14 different pills and a powder get lined up on my mousepad and swallowed. Along with another 12 that are bottled to be taken later. A total of 26 pills and a powder pass through my lips and are consumed every 24 hours. I hope that doesn’t cause you to gasp, because there are others that consume a lot more. And yes, each pill has a purpose either to regulate my heart, my liver, my colon, my blood pressure, my blood sugar, my mental state, and my sinuses.
 
My doctors tell me I’m doing fine…for a man in my condition. My projected lifespan? Who the hell knows? But I do carry around a titanium incased defibrillator with an atomic battery (not really…it’s Lithium). With a ten year battery life. So maybe I got that. I should tell my grandkids I’m the grandpa version of Ironman that should impress ‘em. But anyway all these pills, potions, and modern voodoo are meant to keep me alive. So if someone is invested enough to keep me breathing, you’d think I’d invest some of my time back doing just that.
 
Speaking to the oldest and wisest of us. With the investment of time and money the younger generations are giving to keep you going. You’d think that maybe you’d cut these “kids” a little slack. Many years ago, I wrote a piece praising the generation of kids I raised, “Millennials”. After listening to my generation put them down. I felt it was time to speak up at how proud I was of my own. My heart surgeon isn’t as old as my oldest child. My Cardiologist NP is younger than my youngest child. So for me to deny this generation along with the Z’s and the Alpha’s a chance to say their peace is a bit arrogant. So honor your kids, your grandkids, even your great grandkids with a moment of your undivided attention. You might be impressed with what they got to say.