What if I wet the bed? At 84, I tackle my fears and face aging head on

This First Person column is written by Sheilah Bissett, who lives in Calgary. For more information about CBC's First Person stories, please see the FAQ.

I woke up one morning this spring and couldn't get out of bed. My arthritic left leg was so painful that I couldn't bend it.

I'm 84 and suddenly I was afraid. The "what if" questions flooded in: What if I'll never walk again? What if I wet the bed? What if I fall and break my hip? What if I can't walk the dogs?

Panic, then slowly, a little common sense chimed in with perspective. There I was — already confined to a wheelchair in my mind — and I had barely tried to get out of bed!

Moaning and groaning, I forced myself to just lift that leg. Then I rubbed my knee, swung it back and forth and realized, "I can do this."

After three minutes, I stood up and walked slowly to the bathroom.

What does it take to age well? For me, it's this battle between "I can't" and "I can." Having my coffee that morning, I reflected on how the signs of aging had crept up on me.

My doctor kept warning me, "You are 84, not 54. Slow down!"

I tried to ignore him and pretended everything was fine, but the list of "can't do anymore" was growing. I can't open jars of jam, pickles, wine or water bottles. I also can't paint walls, hang wallpaper or climb ladders. I can't get into a boat or even some cars anymore, carry heavy parcels, or hold a baby in my arms.

I've also had issues like cataracts, hearing loss as well as challenges with balance and memory. The list feels endless. I ignored it because I've always been single and independent; a future of dependency on others was terrifying.

But this knee shook me awake. I realized I have to tackle aging head on. I have to be honest with my "can't do anymore" list and embrace the independence I have left.

So I got a custom-made knee brace and in August, I took my first steps toward a new lifestyle.

First, I created more time for myself. I realized I have never known what it is like to not work, because here I am still working with a pet-sitting business 10 years after retirement.   

I resigned from three clients and kept two and, to my delight, I had three weeks at home alone with no commitments. I read three books, called friends and met for coffee or walks along the river. I watched anything I wanted on TV, suntanned on the balcony, went to bed at 7:30 or 11:30 and got up when I wanted. I danced around my apartment to ABBA.