Age is more than just a number

As much as I joke around about aging, I must honestly say that I never really give my actual advancing age much credence. I think it is partly because most of the time I don't feel old. I certainly don't feel like what I assumed 37 would feel. I can rise unassisted from a seated position; I have all my own teeth; and I can still recall where I left my car keys. It probably helps that I didn't get my first "real" job until a year and a half ago. When one plays Peter Pan for all those years, you really start to believe that your life is just starting. If my career is just beginning, I certainly can't be old, right? Lastly it helps that even though they skipped the blue eyes, thick wavy hair and height genes, my parents gave me pretty good aging genes. Considering what I have put my body through for the last 37 years, it has held up pretty well.

All of that being said, I felt everyone of my almost 38 years this week.

It is spring break here in South Florida. One local junior high school student had asked to shadow me for a couple of days to get an idea of the medical profession. I love what I do so am always happy to share my enthusiasm with others. He jumped through all the necessary paperwork and institutional hoops, and showed up to my office bright and early Wednesday morning. My assistant had walked back to my office to let me know that a very attractive young man was here to see me. When I walked up front, all I saw was a young kid. Sure he was cute, but most 4 year old are pretty cute. Sure this child was taller than me, and can legally drive a car, but he looks like he should still recall the taste of baby food.

As usual, cases were a bit late getting started so I asked if he had any questions. His parents are both judges, so he wanted me to explain the "process" to get to where I am. As I started listing the steps (college, medical school, research, residency, fellowship, etc), I watched his eyes get bigger and bigger. I had mentioned that although certainly not the norm, I had trained for 10 years. He was quiet for a moment when I finished. I could see him doing the math in his head. He was obviously raised well because the question he asked was the average age of most people when they start their first job. I smiled and told him my age. When one is 16, any age that starts with a 3 sounds old. Any age that will soon start with a 4 sounds ancient.

His reply - you could almost be my mom. It caught me a little by surprise. Not because it wasn't true - my mom was actually exactly my age when I was 16. It caught me by surprise because I was sitting in my office discussing college and senior year of high school with this very put together and well-rounded young man. I barely feel old enough to take care of myself most of the time - is it really possible that under different circumstances this semi-adult could have been my responsibility for the last 16 years? In the exact moment when the truth of that statement hit me, I must admit that I all of a sudden felt exactly like I imagined 37 would feel.

I asked him to help me out of my chair, and we made our way to the operating room.