Update about blog

photo from the internet
Showing posts with label Mathilde Oscar. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mathilde Oscar. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 10, 2026

Elderhood - not a disease!

From FB page "The Book Therapist"

Elderhood - Redefining Aging, Transforming Medicine, Reimagining Life, by Louise Aronson


A 92-year-old man sits in a paper gown while a physician half his age frowns at a lab report. His cholesterol is “concerning.”
This is a man who survived the Great Depression. Who buried a wife he loved for sixty years. Who still plays chess on Thursdays and wins often enough to keep his grandson humble. His hands shake a little when he buttons his shirt, but they have held babies, built shelves, signed mortgages, and written condolence notes.
And here we are, talking about numbers. About whether shaving a few points off a lab value might add six months to a life already heavy with ninety-two years. Six months.
That tension is the heartbeat of Elderhood. Louise Aronson writes like someone who has sat at the bedside and felt the absurdity of it all. As a geriatrician at UCSF, she moves between hospital rooms, research studies, and the slow unraveling of her own father’s aging body. What she uncovers is uncomfortable: we have built a medical system and a culture that treats aging as a problem to solve rather than a stage of life to inhabit.
We don’t have a language for elderhood. We have pediatrics for children. We have adulthood for everyone in between. And then, somehow, we pretend the last thirty years are just a malfunction. Aronson refuses that lie.
1. An 80-Year-Old Isn’t a Broken 40-Year-Old
One of the most radical ideas in the book is also the simplest: old bodies are not defective young ones. They are different bodies, with different rhythms and priorities. We don’t call childhood “pre-adulthood failure.” We recognize it as its own season.
Why can’t we do the same for the last act? An elder body isn’t failing at youth. It’s succeeding at longevity. That shift in perspective changes everything. Instead of asking how to drag an 85-year-old back toward 45, we might ask: what does thriving look like at 85? What matters now? What feels meaningful?
2. We Keep Intervening Because We Can
Some of the hardest pages to read are the ones set in ICU rooms. A 94-year-old woman is intubated. Restrained. Cut open. “Stabilized.” She had already said she was tired. Ready. But her words dissolve under fluorescent lights and beeping monitors. No one can hear her over the machinery of hope.
Don't forget that Aronson isn’t anti-medicine. She’s a doctor. She believes in intervention when it serves a person’s life. What she questions is our inability to let go. We escalate treatment not always because it helps, but because stopping feels like surrender.
The tragedy isn’t death. The tragedy is forcing people to endure suffering in the name of longevity when what they want is dignity. Sometimes the most compassionate act is not to add days to life, but to add life to days.
3. The Happiness Curve No One Talks About
This truth unsettled me: older adults, on average, report higher life satisfaction than middle-aged ones. Despite arthritis. Despite loss. Despite thinner skin and slower steps. There’s something that happens when you’ve lived long enough to see cycles repeat. The urgency softens. The need to prove yourself thins out. Perspective expands. Many elders describe a freedom I rarely hear in forty-year-olds.
But we don’t see this because we’ve decided aging is only about decline. We frame it as erosion. And when you expect nothing but loss, you stop building spaces for joy. It becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Meanwhile, elders keep telling us they’re okay. Sometimes even better than okay. And we keep not believing them.
It’s tempting to read Elderhood as a book about “them.” About nursing homes and Medicare and gray hair. It’s not.
If you are lucky, you will age. This is not a warning, it’s a promise. You will wake up one day and realize you are no longer the center of the cultural story. Your joints will creak. Technology will outpace you. People will speak over you as if you’ve already begun to fade.
The world we’re building for elders now is the world we are walking toward. That 92-year-old man with the “problematic” cholesterol isn’t broken. We are. He’s reached a stage of life we barely understand and rarely honor.
The problem is our refusal to see that the last third of life is not a decline from relevance. It’s a different kind of becoming. And unless we change how we think about it, we are all designing a future that will one day discard us.
The question isn’t how to avoid aging. The question is whether we’re brave enough to imagine it differently.
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From FB page "Books."

 We read Louise Aronson's "Elderhood" while sitting beside my grandmother's hospital bed, watching her try to explain to yet another young doctor that she wasn't confused, just tired of being treated like her eight decades of living had taught her nothing. Aronson's words felt like having an advocate in the room, someone who understood that aging isn't a disease to be cured but a profound human experience we've somehow decided to deny and dread.

As a geriatrician and writer, Aronson doesn't just observe elderhood from the outside; she inhabits it with both clinical expertise and startling vulnerability. Her book became a mirror we didn't know we needed, showing us how our culture's obsession with youth has blinded us to the wisdom, complexity, and yes, beauty of growing older:
1. We're All Practicing for Elderhood
Aronson's most unsettling insight is how our youth-obsessed culture teaches us to fear our future selves. Every anti-aging cream, every joke about senior moments, every assumption that older means lesser, we're essentially training ourselves to hate who we're becoming. She shows how this self-directed ageism doesn't just hurt older people; it wounds us all by making us afraid of our own inevitable journey through time.
2. Medicine Has Abandoned Its Elders
The clinical stories Aronson shares broke my heart and opened my eyes. She reveals how medical training focuses almost exclusively on fixing and curing, leaving doctors unprepared for the nuanced care that elderhood requires. When she describes watching colleagues dismiss elderly patients' concerns or over-medicate normal aging processes, you feel the profound loneliness of being misunderstood by the very people meant to help you heal.
3. Elderhood Has Its Own Seasons
Perhaps the most beautiful revelation is how Aronson maps the landscape of later life, showing it's not one long decline but a series of seasons, each with its own gifts and challenges. She writes about the wisdom that comes from having lived through multiple cycles of joy and loss, the freedom that can emerge when you stop caring what others think, the deep relationships possible when pretense falls away. Her elderhood isn't about diminishment; it's about distillation.
4. The Stories We Tell Matter
Aronson challenges every narrative we've absorbed about aging. She shows how our language around elderhood is soaked in decline and deficit, how we describe older people as "still" doing things, as if their continued existence is surprising. Her reframing is revolutionary: what if we saw aging not as falling apart but as becoming more fully ourselves? What if we honored the courage it takes to keep growing when your body is slowing down?
5. Community Becomes Everything
The most touching parts of the book explore how relationships deepen and shift in elderhood. Aronson shows how older adults often become masters of what truly matters, shedding superficial connections to focus on love that sustains. She writes about friendships forged in waiting rooms, families redefined by caregiving, and the profound intimacy possible when people stop performing and start simply being present with each other.
Most importantly, this book reminded me that we're all aging from the moment we're born, and every day we get to choose whether we'll approach that process with fear or with grace. Aronson chose grace, and in reading her words, I found the courage to do the same.
You can also get the Audio book for FREE using the same link. Use the link to register for the Audio book on Audible and start enjoying it.

Just saying...I'm going to check it out!


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by Fine Art Photograph Mathilde Oscar

If you restore balance in your own self, you will be contributing immensely to the healing of the world.

DEEPAK CHOPRA

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I’Ve been waking early and reading blogs -then returning to sleep a few more hours…so glad to see what’s been posted in the wee hours!



Monday, February 16, 2026

A voice - Maybe the Angry Women - 11

by Fine Art Photograph Mathilde Oscar, Le Cri


"Having the right to show up and speak are basic to survival, to dignity, and to liberty. I’m grateful that, after an early life of being silenced, sometimes violently, I grew up to have a voice, circumstances that will always bind me to the rights of the voiceless."

Your credibility arises in part from how your society perceives people like you, and we have seen over and over again that no matter how credible some women are by supposedly objective standards reinforced by evidence and witnesses and well-documented patterns, they will not be believed by people committed to protecting men and their privileges. The very definition of women under patriarchy is designed to justify inequality, including inequality of credibility.

To have a voice means not just the animal capacity to utter sounds but the ability to participate fully in the conversations that shape your society, your relations to others, and your own life. There are three key things that matter in having a voice: audibility, credibility, and consequence.

Audibility means that you can be heard, that you have not been pressed into silence or kept out of the arenas in which you can speak or write (or denied the education to do so—or, in the age of social media, harassed and threatened and driven off the platform, as so many have).

Credibility means that when you get into those arenas, people are willing to believe you, by which I don’t mean that women never lie, but that stories should be measured on their own terms and context, rather than patriarchy’s insistence that women are categorically unqualified to speak, emotional rather than rational, vindictive, incoherent, delusional, manipulative, unfit to be heeded—those things often shouted over a woman in the process of saying something challenging (though now death threats are used as a shortcut, and some of those threats are carried out, notably with women who leave their abusers, because silencing can be conversational or it can be premeditated murder).

To be a person of consequence is to matter. If you matter, you have rights, and your words serve those rights and give you the power to bear witness, make agreements, set boundaries. If you have consequence, your words possess the authority to determine what does and does not happen to you, the power that underlies the concept of consent as part of equality and self-determination.

Sexual assault can only thrive in situations of unequal audibility, credibility, and consequence. This, far more than any other disparity, is the precondition for epidemic gender violence.

Excerpts from Meditations in an Emergency by  Rebecca Solnit


My vase with four depictions of life as I see it. Here the demonstrations against the power-mongers.


"Americans are coming together over a shared fear. We know people living in fear. A higher percentage of people know the fear around what will happen to their children, their parents, their friends. We live in fear of being hurt while helping others. We live in fear of having more rights taken away. We live in fear of billionaires dictating our lives thinking they have our backs when what they do well is acquire money, sometimes ours, to do with what they will.

Those that feel powerless are watching the powerful. The powerful listen to each other. The tide will continue to turn as the powerless feel more disconnected and less in control of what their lives could be like.

The powerful won’t listen until they feel powerless.

Keith Kron

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Thanks to posts on the internet, which I'm re-sharing here!

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Lee Steadman from Minneapolis posted this on his FB page as of 2.13.26 at noon:

"ICE Activity continues to be high. Despite what Tim Walz, Tom Homan and National Media are reporting, the reality is that things on the ground in Minneapolis, Saint Paul, the surrounding suburbs and counties across Minnesota continue to see heavy ICE prescense, (sic.) abductions, staging at mobile homes, targeting schools, new tactics being implemented...
We are not in a drawback. Do not believe the headlines."

He gives an audio interview where he lists abductions and where ICE activities were happening as of Thursday.

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This last week:
Grand jury fails to indict Democratic lawmakers who urged service members to disobey any illegal orders from President Trump. https://cnn.it/4apwQ6u