[From April 2007 diary—28th]
I heard a heartening thing on the television last night—in ten years, you have a completely different skeleton—it takes ten years to replace itself.
I only have five years to go to get my sixty-year-old skeleton. It’ll be the sixth one I’ve had. This means that I can really concentrate on the health of my skeleton, and know with certainty that whatever I feed it with and the exercise I can give myself to strengthen it—these measures really will work.
I’m pleased about that.
People think ten years is a long time.
It doesn’t seem all that long a time to me now, though I know I only have a few of them left. Decades, I mean.
Does this bother me?
No. I’m looking forward to my sixty-year-old skeleton, and thinking it’ll be really quite healthy, because I’ve been drinking a lot of milk for a long time.
I’ve had the menopause, and that will be affecting my skeleton—the fact that I’m this side of it.
But my skeleton will still be quite a good one because I’m eating a lot.
My skeleton could be in better nick, soon, than it has been for a few decades.
I’m quite fat, but the extra weight will be helping my skeleton to get strong, in order to hold it all.
Told you I’m an optimist.