Yesterday I visited a patient for the first time—to review their balance and see if they might benefit from a walking aid. I was welcomed into their home, perched on the top floor with access via lift and two flights of stairs.

Now, for folk in their eighth decade on this planet, stairs can be a challenge—and yet, in the grand scheme of things, they’re often a blessing in disguise as it’s a popular belief that ‘a home with stairs adds years as well as steps’.

My patient (let’s call them P) acknowledged as much, recognising the stairs as a form of essential exercise.

It’s often the case when I meet those nearly twice my age that stories surface—tales of younger days, of sports once played, of exercise once enjoyed.

For P, despite ongoing cancer treatment and the prospect of yet another new hip, the intent is clear: to remain independent. That intent shows up in a willingness to engage with the exercises I provide—though admittedly, a far cry from the judo practice of their youth.

Although the purpose of my visits is Falls Prevention, the individuality of each story remains endlessly fascinating.

Behind the dementia, the cancer, the bouts of nauseating vertigo, you’ll find former footballers, hikers, dancers, boxers, martial artists.

What’s common to all, beyond the recent falls, the multitude of medications, or the dodgy joints, is something more poignant: coming to terms with the body’s reduced ability (as opposed to deterioration).

It made me pause—to reflect on how we evolve, decade by decade.

Our abilities.. soften

Our preferences.. realign

Not just to prevent injury or avoid the embarrassment of being much slower or wobblier, but to keep enjoying life—especially among family and friends.

Meanwhile, P frowned at the prospect of the seated exercise classes offered in the residential communal area but warmed quickly to the idea of other options available in the city.

As is often the case after such visits, I left feeling both inspired and reflective:

About the activities I currently enjoy.

About those I hope to continue enjoying.

And about those I may one day have to adapt—or even set aside—as time marches on.

How about you?