IT PAINS ME TO SAY this, but I hurt—everywhere. I’ll start at the bottom and work my way up. My feet hurt, my knees hurt, my hips hurt, my back hurts and my shoulders hurt. One more thing: I can’t remember. My memory is in decline.
Cataract surgery improved my eyesight. Hearing aids mean my grandkids don’t have to be two rooms over when we watch TV together. Exercise seems to reduce my pain slightly and increase mobility. I see new knees and hips on the horizon. Maybe next up is an artificial intelligence chip for my brain.
Knowing my limits helps reduce my pain. On the treadmill, my knee tells me there’s a big difference between 2.9 mph and 3.0 mph. When I try to push a little harder, my body quickly reminds me who’s boss.
My cognitive decline is stealthier, revealing itself only when I try to talk. Words that were once common in my vocabulary aren’t there for easy recall. The aging fog of cognition is slow but sure. Thinking speed, memory recall and the ability to perform executive functions are all starting to suffer.
Once upon a time, I was a flight instructor. Living in Colorado, I enjoyed taking students into the mountains. Mountain flying offers pilots the opportunity to develop their skills while enjoying a new perspective of the Rocky Mountains. Few things compare to the thrill of flying around snow-capped mountains in the early morning. We would land at Leadville airport. At 9,934 feet above sea level, Leadville is the highest public-use runway in the U.S.
Safely navigating mountains is about risk management. Weather can change in an instant. From personal experience, I know that unseen waves of air can flip a plane sideways in a heartbeat. At these altitudes, one risk that must also be managed is cognitive impairment due to lack of oxygen.
Supplemental oxygen is a good idea above 10,000 feet. It’s required above 12,500 feet if flying for longer than 30 minutes. Most mountain passes are above 10,000 feet. Rollins Pass, my favorite, is at 11,676 feet. To ensure you don’t need to dust the dirt off the underbelly of the airplane, it’s wise to fly higher than ground level when crossing.
To demonstrate how altitude affects thinking, I’d always do this exercise before the flight: On the ground before taking off, I’d ask my students to count the sequence of A-1, B-2, C-3 and so on for as long as possible. I’d stop them when they started to stumble. This was usually around F-6 or G-7.
Deep into the Rockies and after flying above 10,000 feet for a while, I’d follow up with these questions.
Me: “How do you feel?”
Student: “Great.”
Me: “How are your cognitive abilities?”
Student: “Not a problem. I’m fine.”
Me: “Do you remember the counting exercise?”
Student: “Yes.”
Me: “Okay, please count that alphanumeric sequence again.”
Student: “A-1… B… 2… err C… err 3.” At that point, they caught on, “Oh my, I had no idea I couldn’t think.”
Every student says “great” when asked how he or she feels. Why? The wingman of reduced cognition is a false sense of euphoria.
Understanding and managing risk is life-saving. A couple of years ago, I made the personal choice to stop flying. Giving up one of the loves of my life was painfully difficult, but it was the right decision.
Cognitive decline from lack of oxygen—or from aging—is real. Our ability to function slips away quietly. Just as flying in the mountains requires increased awareness of risk, our need for financial risk awareness is greater as we age. The flight of aging doesn’t stop mid-air. As we continue to our aging destination, our tanks continue to deplete until we finally land.
In the years before my father died, we asked, “Where’s your personal and financial information? How do we find your accounts and stocks?” His answer was, “Don’t worry, I’ll tell you everything when I’m ready.” He went from being “not ready yet” to being unable to remember the details of his estate. Not having this information made things difficult for his executors. I don’t want that for my children.
If I die at the same age as my parents, I have about 25 years left. That seems like a long time to get things in order. But I’d like to stop flying my finances and get things in order sooner, and well before I can’t. I want to simplify now, and switch my finances and investments to autopilot. It’s likely that my investments and taxes will not be as “optimized” as I’d want them today. But I’m okay with that. It’s the price I need to pay to reduce the risk of bad future financial decisions.
William Housley lives in Parker, Colorado, and has worked with Youth for Christ for more than 47 years. There, he serves as a trustee on the 403(b) committee. In their work with Youth for Christ, Bill and his wife Gretchen, a registered nurse, have ministered to youth in California, Germany, Vermont and Colorado. Today, Bill continues to contribute to the organization as “legacy staff.” He and his wife love spending time with their three grandsons. Bill’s previous article was Gardeners Needed.
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Greetings from your neck of the woods, Aurora,Co. When my mother in law was in her last years my wife who was going to be executor tried to get a handle on her finances. All she would say is not to worry it’s all in a trust. Turns out the trust was poorly drawn up and not current. It ended up costing my wife countless hours and a large tax bill. Totally unnecessary. On the other end I was the executor of my mom. I had handled her finances for decades after my dad died. My mom was completely open to talking about her wishes and finances. It made things so much easier in the end. I always considered that one of her last gifts to me. Bottom line is don’t leave your executor in the dark.
Smart advice
William,
For you it was flying, for me it was my Harley. A year or so ago, I was riding in the mountains of NC, when I was almost hit by an automobile. In this instance, it would have been my fault.
Six or seven months later, on a Saturday outing with a group of HOG riders, I had a similar experience, but this time it was the automobile driver’s fault. When a bike gets hit by a car, the injuries don’t care who was at fault.
I decided that as much as I like riding, I liked living to enjoy my upcoming retirement even more, so I sold my bike.
Like your dad, my mom ignored my admonition about filling me in on her desires, and where to store her will and other documents. Even though I knew I was her executor, when she passed, her legal docs were in her safety deposit box at her bank…and I was not a signatory on that safety deposit box. Because of typical government bureaucracy, I was unable to gain access to those docs until the sole County Clerk responsible for opening bank boxes returned from her 2 week vacation, which she had just started.
Fortunately, my mother’s wishes included being cremated, which was important, since her body remained at the county morgue for the entire period I was unable to access her legal documents, and by the time I was abe to arrange her funeral, an open casket funeral would not have been possible. The situation was complicated by the fact that she was my step mother, and legally, I was not even related to her.
I have made sure that my wife and children will have no issues at my death. My final gift to them.
In one of my recent HD articles, I wrote about giving up rock climbing and Class V whitewater rafting. There are lots of ways to hurt oneself. You cannot eliminate all of them, but you can work to mitigate risk.
Yes it seems to me that there are a lot of similarities between the risk management when riding and flying. I had a VTX1800c for a while. I sold that too. Bill
Bill, you may be too old to cut the mustard, but you can still lick the jar
Thanks for this. Both my wife and I have considered these risks/issues, have started to encounter them and are trying to mitigate them, at least to some extent. After I read your piece, I told my wife about it and she wanted to test herself by doing the A-1, B-2 exercise. She did well, only stumbling at W. Then she looked at me and Well? Aren’t you going to do it? (I wasn’t planning to). I did complete it successfully, if rather deliberately. But we both agreed it is a great simple exercise. I agree with simplification of finances too. Great comments on water exercise, massage and bicycling also..
Wow, that is incredible to get that far into the alphabet. The exercise for mountain flying is a demonstration of how altitude and the accompanying decrease in oxygen concentration affects our thinking.
Bill, have you given up flying entirely, or just flying solo? I bet your former students would be happy to take you flying with them. And members of a local flying club probably would as well.
My advice as a retired orthopedic Physical Therapist and Certified Athletic Trainer is to buy a good quality stationery bicycle to replace your treadmill if you can get around on the pedals.
Bicycling at a leisurely pace for 5-10 minutes first thing in the am can help to lubricate your hips, knees, and ankles before you start walking.
Bicycling is also easier on your joints than the pounding of the treadmill.
If you do in fact have your knees replaced in the future the bike will help with increasing your range of motion, decrease the swelling, as well an improve your lower extremity endurance.
Driving recently on the streets of my hometown, the Queens Borough of NYC, made me realize that, even though I was at sea level, now that I live in a tiny town with minimal traffic, I may no longer be up to the challenge of watching for cars, trucks, mopeds, electric scooters, pedestrians, pedestrians with strollers, etc. And the neighborhood streets are narrow: Why is everyone except me driving an SUV? My reflexes aren’t as good as they were and the streets have changed in the nine years since I was a visiting nurse. Maybe it’s time get that Uber app. 😊 More costly but probably worth it.
I don’t think anybody should judge themselves on their ability to handle NYC traffic. It’s always terrified me!
Even though I’ve improved my diet, exercise, and supplement regimen to try to stave off the cognitive decline set up for me by genetics, yesterday brought home a sobering realization. I’d caught COVID for the first time, wasn’t feeling well and headed for the bathroom. Next thing I knew I’d face-planted in the tub. Luckily nothing a few stitches wouldn’t fix, but it seems I need to get my wife up to speed on our finances.
Hang in there Randy.
Thanks, Patrick!
Great article, congratulations on quitting flying in good time. Also, sympathy on the pain – I spent a year with chronic pain before my rheumatoid arthritis was diagnosed and properly treated and know how debilitating it is. Second the massage and aqua-exercise recommendation.
I moved to a CCRC a few months back and just saw a notification that since my birthday is next month I’m eligible for an annual Senior Fitness Test. I think I’ll ask about a cognitive test as well. Meanwhile I really need to find a replacement for the ex-step-daughter who is my executor and has my financial POA as she lives in Oregon and I live in NC.
Bill, condolences on the issues you are facing. Others have already commented on the cognition problem, but I’ll offer a couple of thoughts on the physical challenges, because chronic pain has an even bigger impact on your quality of life, and can even accelerate cognition decline.
Water and massage can be great friends to your pain sources. Water exercise is gentler on your knees and ankles than the treadmill (although 2.9 is pretty good!) and accupressure massage can help keep those achy joints more flexible. And if new hips and knees are required, maintaining your muscle strength will help you recover and adjust more quickly.
Keep working and best of luck.
Mike – I heartily endorse your comments about muscle strength before undergoing a joint replacement. Even when someone is in tip-top shape, knee replacement recovery is hard because the tourniquet used to arrest blood flow to that leg crushes your quadricep/thigh muscles. As a result you have to recover from both the knee replacement and the muscular injuries.
To All,
Thank you for your kind words regarding this article. For some reason we cannot see in ourselves what we readily seeing others. Some call this denial. Crudely said, we cannot smell our own stink. – Bill
Bill, thanks for a great article. This is a timely and important topic. My wife and I have had similar experience with aging and infirm parents. It does leave a listing impression. As other commenters have said, cognitive decline can be a gradual process. In my mother-in-law’s case her gradual decline saw a major step change after some emergency surgery. She went being able to live independently, to needing assistance, to a memory care facility in a matter of months. I was taught to “plan for the worst, and hope for the best”. It sounds like you are on a similar path.
Great article. Recognition of personal cognitive decline takes a lot of inner strength. I made a living using my brain as my capital equipment. I can’t begin to describe the fear of mental demise, which runs strong in my family.
I find myself needing to deal with the consequences of age, too. I find myself challenged with the mental/emotional aspects of “today is not as good as yesterday” or last week, last month, or last year.
Great analogy William
Bill, you describe the characteristics of my daily companions in the physical therapy clinic, down to the denial or failure to recognize that they aren’t “Great!” Thanks for a fine article.
Bill, your well-written article belies your contention that your cognitive abilities are in decline. It’s great that you are so self-aware and don’t want to repeat the pattern your father set out. I’ve found that continuing to work in my 60s-including writing articles for HumbleDollar-is keeping my brain tuned up. I hope I will be able to recognize what’s going on and respond appropriately if I ever start to see my marbles begin rolling around the floor.
The real trick is learning not to self delude when slowly losing one marble at a time. I guess it depends on how many marbles we started with.
Jeff, I think you hit the key point about self-delusion. Unfortunately, it’s not a rare phenomenon for a person to either not see or not be willing to acknowledge their own diminishing capabilities. In one context, it can be inspiring that someone is pushing against the march of time. But at some point there’s a line, and on the other side of that line it goes from inspiring to something else less good. I hope I can handle this well going forward, both for myself and those around me.
Very timely article, and you did a good job with it. I suspect after last night’s presidential debate we’ll be discussing this topic a good bit in the days ahead. Tough topic, because I think most people don’t want to unfairly discount someone else’s capabilities due to their age. On the other hand, sometimes good intentions can result in taking something a bit too far and ignoring reality. Yep, definitely a tough topic. Thanks for sharing your thoughts and some of the choices you’ve made for yourself in this regard.
Maybe we are all on a continuum of decline and doing risky things such as flying brought me closer to seeing the starting edge of that continuum.