Crepe Season

written by Nancy Malcolm

My eye doctor is twelve.  She’s smart, thorough…downright delightful, and yet, I have clothes older than she is.  At this mature time in my life, all of my doctors are getting younger while I am heading in the opposite direction.

My orthopedic doctor was talking to me about shots for my knees and said, “If you were my mother, I would definitely recommend this.”  

“That’s sweet?” I thought.

Are the regular doctors in the forty, fifty, and sixty age-range giving up too soon?  Are they retiring, traveling and taking it easy, just like me?

It seems wherever I go someone is calling me “Ma’am.”  I respect the respect but I still feel thirty-seven inside, so it’s hard to compute.

If you are my age and visiting a dermatologist lately, heaven help you!

“What is this?”  I asked him. “And what is this little red spot?”

“It just happens,” he said.  “To people your age.”

Oh, that’s exactly what I wanted to hear.  And the force be with you if during your annual mole check, he burns, cuts or freezes something off of a sensitive area.  “It just happens,” he says. “It could be worse.”

I also wondered if it really is true that our noses and ears continue to grow as we age?    Well, I looked it up and apparently the cartilage in our ears and noses does continue to grow and then it droops.  Gravity takes over and makes the cartilage in the nose and ears look bigger because it is sagging, just like everything else.

I don’t believe I’ve ever been able to bounce a quarter off of my butt.  Maybe the ‘firm’ gene skipped a generation. I remember once, years ago, I thought I was firm, but I see now it was an illusion.  Crepey skin is my new normal.

Recently, my grandson was sitting next to me on the couch.  “Nannie,” he said in astonishment, “Look at your arm! Why is it doing that?”

“Doing what?” I asked, trying to play it off, as I pushed the skin back up toward my shoulder.

He lightly pinched a piece of skin above my elbow.  “This,” he said, and I knew what he meant.

You see, years ago, I remember asking my Grandma the same thing.  “Grandma, look! Your skin stays up if I pull it. Why does it do that?”

Be aware, children, be very aware!  This could happen to you.

I will never again buy crepe paper to decorate for parties.  It’s just too real.

Two years ago, I went on a crusade to fight the crepey skin situation.  I had watched all the infomercials and ads on TV, and I truly believed I had found the answer.  I asked for Crepe Erase for Christmas and my birthday. It was expensive, but I knew it was pure magic.  It smelled wonderful and the best part was that Jane Seymour was their spokesperson. Jane Seymour is my age and she looks fantastic.  Her skin is youthful and firm.

I was faithful to use it for one whole year.  I exfoliated. I lotioned, rubbing in an upward direction.  I prayed and yet….. I fear I was fifteen years too late to change the course of my crepe.  I’m doomed to have grandchildren gasp in horror at my sleeveless arms.

I’ve had a good run.  I really have, and it’s nice to know I’m not alone.  Jane Seymour is with me as I march into the losing battle of aging.   I have to believe sooner or later she will experience the devastation of the ‘ crepe.’  One thing is for sure, I won’t go down without a fight armed with hair dye, what’s left of my Crepe Erase and Aspercreme.  The trifecta of aging!