I just bought a house. Yes, at this age. 

A common admonition to those on intimate terms with aging and mortality is to avoid buying green bananas. Well, I chose to laugh in the face of that bit of wisdom by purchasing the equivalent of about a million of them.

At signing, I experienced a piercing moment of clarity when the closing agent pointed out that this was a 30-year mortgage.

“It’s totally fine with me,” I assured her. “I’ll be dead by then.” She didn’t seem amused. 

But beyond violating the immutable laws of retirement planning, here’s what I’ve learned so far — I probably should have transitioned from my apartment directly into a long-term care facility. 

After three days of packing, carrying and scampering up and down the three flights of stairs from my old apartment, I feel like I’ve just climbed Mount Hood and can hardly stand upright. And that’s just part of the problem. 

Secondary to the green banana dictum is another equally time-tested truth: Seniors should choose to age in a one-level housing situation. So naturally, I’ve wisely prepared for the end of my aging journey by selecting a two-story townhome with a long, steep flight of stairs I’ll need to safely navigate many times every day. 

I’ve lived here only about a week, but the mists of denial are lifting, and certain desperate needs have revealed themselves. As a result, I’ll soon be competing with local nursing homes to staff several vital positions:

  • A maintenance director to do all the trivial household repairs I somehow never learned how to do myself
  • A housekeeper to tidy up after me, since all my energies are being spent just climbing the stairs
  • A nurse to check my vitals each time I need to visit the second floor
  • A CNA to lift me from a twisted heap at the bottom of the steps after my first near-fatal tumble 
  • A rehab therapist to guide my recovery from the stair fall, and get me ready for the next one 
  • A dietary aide to make my 2 a.m. snacks and carry them up to me, so I don’t risk gravity in the dark
  • A chaplain or priest to pray for my continued safety

Or I could just come to my senses, admit that I’ve willfully violated every rule of successful aging, leave the key under the mat and head for the nearest 5-star facility. 

I just hope the next occupant is someone young and physically fit, who enjoys bananas.

Things I Think is written by Gary Tetz, a two-time national Silver Medalist and three-time regional Gold and Silver Medal winner in the Association of Business Press Editors (ASBPE) awards program, as well as an Award of Excellence honoree in the APEX Awards. He’s been amusing, inspiring, informing and sometimes befuddling long-term care readers since the end of a previous century. He is a writer and video producer for Consonus Healthcare in Portland, OR.

The opinions expressed in McKnight’s Long-Term Care News guest submissions are the author’s and are not necessarily those of McKnight’s Long-Term Care News or its editors.

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