I never thought I would have the audacity to argue with the wisdom of the ancient Greek philosophers. But today, I have to call into question the words of one of the most renowned of that ilk:

“Change in all things is sweet.”

– Aristotle

I beg to differ.

Today I have my first appointment with a new internist in my new location. And I really hate having to change doctors. I have been imagining what his first impression of me will be. Most likely, he’ll think I’m cognitively okay, but a total physical wreck. At least, I hope my brain doesn’t suddenly stop functioning when I walk into his office. As for the body, there’s no debate: I am old and decrepit.

That’s not something that happens overnight; it’s gradual, and it sneaks up on you until one day you look at yourself in the mirror and you see . . .

I liked my last doctor. She was kind and understanding, and she followed my gradual decline at six-month intervals. But this new guy is going to see me for the first time as I am today, without benefit of having known the younger, active, un-wrinkled me. He’ll get the list I have prepared for him of my known ailments (not too bad for a person of my age), my medications (again, not too many), and then . . . my past surgeries. That list is as long as my arm, but the procedures were not for major health issues. The truth is, I am an orthopedic surgeon’s wet dream come to life.

Over the years, we all change — some of us more than others. It’s inevitable. And, contrary to what Aristotle believed, not all of it is sweet. Some of it is a big fat pain in the ass.

Anyway, I’ll let you know if I pass the Medicare-mandated cognitive test this afternoon. I hope I’m at least as smart as Donald Trump, who, as we all know, has aced it — over and over and over again.

The difference is, I know it’s not an IQ test.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
9/17/26