“I’m the Old Dog”

            This past year or two, I added new behaviors to my daily routine. First, different medical needs meant I needed to remember to take blood pressure pills twice a day. Often, I’d glance at the clock in the evening, and realize I’d missed the time for my dose by an hour. My barely used iPhone shifted to a different relationship level. I set the calendar with reminders for my evening meds. That worked perfectly! With background noise sometimes drowning out the sound, I changed it this week to an impossible to ignore tone.  I use this tech to remember Koi’s Nexgard on the 14^th of each month and his Heartgard on the 26^th.

            The old me logged everything down onto a planner and a backup wall calendar. My phone now fills the need for a calendar. When I leave the doctor or the dentist, the next appointment goes directly into my phone. Upon returning home, I’ll notate the information into my planner. Their appointment card goes into an envelope with a physical file I keep for medical records for the year.

            Remembering to wear my night guard turned into another challenge this July. Instead of turning to my phone for another daily ping or tone, I shifted to using a combination of lamps in our bedroom. When I turn them off each night, I’m standing next to the bathroom. That usually triggers the memory that I need to slip on the device. I had an allergic reaction to the cleansers I used to clean it. Now my morning routine added scrubbing it in warm water with its own special electric toothbrush head and giving it an Efferdent soaking on Thursday mornings. My trusty planner carried that reminder until I learned this new routine.

            A part of me thought life after full retirement would slip into whatever pattern I desired. I never dreamed that an alarm would wake me up every morning to take my thyroid medications an hour before my other pills. I didn’t imagine adding more necessary demands to my daily, weekly, or monthly routines. I guess it all boils down to the fact that I’ve become the old dog learning new tricks.

 

Copyright 2023 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman