Regeneration X (13 page)

While re-aging may seem unnecessary, without this aspect, Renovation is plainly cosmetic. Thus, for me this reclassification became positively necessary; I had no aesthetic purpose for doing it. Logically, I could not apply to new jobs without specific training. Even if I were to retrain and apply for jobs
without
having re-aged, my would-be employers would likely be hesitant to hire a 60-year-old who would retire in five to 10 years. Granted, this might not have been an issue for some employers since the days of 30-year jobs are rather uncommon. Still, the idea exists; I’ve worked for
POV
for nearly 13 years already. Perhaps in most employers’ minds the rational thought would be,
we should not invest in an employee who will only be committed to employment with us for a short period
. With ‘short’ being relative to the total number of employable years—about seven—which is a long way off from the potential of fifty. This mindset would have been harder still to alter over email, online applications, and phone interviews since my potential employer could not see me. As any job hunter can attest, getting this first face-to-face interview is the biggest challenge.

Then there were the income expectations to consider. If I set out for a new career, I would come to whatever job with over 35 years of real work experience. I would expect to be compensated at least a little better than an employee who is fresh out of college looking to gain
any
professional experience whatsoever. You might say it’s a mindset just as any other. Re-aging wouldn’t automatically change this expectation either. However, when the age is documented as one thing, both parties (employer and job seeker) expect the standards of the age as noted in official documents. Yes, it’s a psychological difference. Besides, if I left the majority, or even all, of my employment history off my CV, it might appear I was hiding something. (Principally, these things are too easily uncovered in our very public existences.)

Although, I have chosen a specialized industry so I’m not even sure if any of these traditional, white-collar considerations would have applied. In the end, I figured I might as well see my choice through and do it right the first time, because, why not? Especially since I
did
want to relive my youth—exactly the way a truly young person would go about it.

This leads me to my next point. You might be questioning my rationale for choosing to regenerate to 17. Apart from the reason I’ve already stated, prior to CR, I had considered just revamping my life and expectations with new experiences, but my particular situation was nearly impossible to alter. I’d already been through years of mental anguish trying to redesign my career and otherwise manipulate or accept my life. Every solution led me back to the secure bonds of my office chair and responsibilities, or left me feeling I was throwing away everything for which I’d endeavored. I needed something that would force the hand of change. Since many of my aspirations were career focused, it wasn’t just about changing patterns. As I said, I couldn’t have applied for employment in industries in which I had no training or experience. So, I gleaned from my reflections of the past (as well as a history of conversations I’d had with friends, Michael, and Dr. Baum), regenerating back to a point, when I could best redirect the path for my new future, was most logical.

Just as parents consider their child’s age before enrolling in pre-school, I planned the same way—keeping in mind I needed sufficient time to prepare and begin the process so I would be the same age as my school peers. Seventeen is typically when students apply for admission to schools. I was also vaguely aware that since I would cognitively be the same, I wouldn’t have to experience the awkwardness of being a minor in the normal respects. In other words, I’d still be fully capable of making adult decisions without parental guidance.
 

I wasn’t afraid of being so young. However, this was a far as my considerations went. In my analysis of the plan prior to my Renovation, I overlooked what my legal standing would be afterward because technically a person of 17 isn’t independent. Honestly, this didn’t enter my radar until it actually came time to sign my school admissions applications. I completed the paperwork, leaving the “Parent or Guardian Signature (required)” line blank. I understood why schools required guardian consent; they needed to know there was legal recourse, say, if I failed to pay my tuition or I defaulted on a loan. But, this opened up a realm of other setbacks. Would Michael have to declare me as his ward somehow—with the IRS, Social Services, who knows where else? Could a spouse even be granted guardianship if the ward was able bodied and of sound mind?

Worst-case scenario my schooling would have to wait one more year (or a couple of terms depending on admissions) since my birthday wasn’t until September. I held on to the applications and braced myself for it all to become tricky. I was also left wondering what other obvious complications would emerge. I searched in vain for answers to these questions as the application deadlines drew nearer, and momentarily I regretted not having regenerated to 18 in the first place.

I was relieved to hear by way of Dr. Baum and his contacts with the Cellular Regeneration Council, guardian consent wouldn’t be an issue at all. The CRC had accounted for this foreseen glitch, with the “re-age” terminology. This designation was a permanent tag on the individual’s records, and if ever there was a question of a person’s authority to make his or her own decisions, the inquiring party could contact the council for clarification.

I was impatient to get my world-ball rolling, and I was primed my turn was not going to be delayed. Application deadlines for Fall Term 2024 were in just a few weeks. I had just enough time to submit my forms.

・ ・ ・

As for the side effects, the first six months were going to be the most difficult, at least this was what I was told to expect. However, at three months post-op I managed to cross some invisible threshold. One morning I woke up and instead of the nausea, which had become rather common, a tingle travelled down the length of my body—as if signaling a new and completely accessible superpower—and I felt unstoppable. But a lot took place before this day.
 

Here’s what I noticed from day one at home. First thing in the morning, I would wake up drenched in a cold sweat paired with a bout of nausea to welcome me into consciousness. Sometimes my symptoms were quite severe and felt similar to seasickness; in other words, a combination punch of damp, dizzy, vomit-y grossness. After an hour or so, this was replaced with a different sensation, the one of pent-up excitement. The hope I’d been grasping at for years seemed actually tangible.

The bathroom mirror revealed my appearance had been progressively going backward in time. Here, too, I think I’ve reached the end; the visible changes are just starting to become less noticeable. I admit it’s been a nice daily reward. As if I were clay, fascinated, I pushed around and tugged the skin along my jaw and around my eyes; it was firm and bounced back without the slightest lag. My skin became flawless again; my features had lost their droop, and the folds and creases were gone. From what I understand, this was due primarily to the restoration of collagen cells and elastin proteins—their effectiveness had been renewed. Furthermore, I suppose this could be considered a side effect: I found myself looking in the mirror often or catching my reflection in passing, being at first surprised and then appreciative. Albeit not a cellular process, as a result my vanity elevated and I’m sure my confidence along with it.

Physically, I also feel more energized. Since I wasn’t exactly geriatric to begin with, it was more as if I’d increased my coffee intake, by maybe a half gallon. Still, there are no more involuntary grunts when I bend down and my knees have stopped expressing their creaky complaints. Pains from sitting in one position too long are a thing of the past as well, although I feel too invigorated to sit for lengths of time doing nothing anyway. I began to stand at my desk when working, something I’d meant to do before, but wasn’t inspired to. Nor did I miss the kinks I used to get all too often, or the numbness of restless legs.

My doctors had warned me not to expect CR to fix broken bones; however, over ten years ago, I fell down a few icy concrete steps and this had had a lasting effect. There were no broken bones, but I recall the bruises took a surprisingly long time to heal. I’d landed awkwardly on my side and occasionally I felt a deep pain in my right hip. Remarkably, I haven’t experienced this residual ache in months, either.

From day one, I was incrementally more limber. At first, this was just a feeling of being so. By the three-month mark my mobility, and the mental connection to it, was more balanced and impromptu. Now I don’t even think about bounding up and down the stairs. I just do it and think how astounding it is, after the fact.

Much of this has to do with verve. You don’t realize the differences in energy or appearance when you are older compared to several years prior, since the effects of aging are so gradual. Day by day you get slower; movements become more purposeful, and the fear of cricks and cracks stop you from making any sudden action. So for example, I said it was astounding because I’m not certain exactly when I lost the gumption to run up the stairs, let alone the ability to do so. Somewhere along the way, my joints started to stiffen and make noises, effectively stunting any chance of spontaneity. In truth, I probably wouldn’t have been such a squeaky person in the first place if I had been more fit beforehand. Then again, it might have been the underlying memory of falling down the stairs all those years go. By the time I was 54, any giddiness I might have wanted to express was restricted to thoughts in my head.

The reality of regeneration approximates getting a haircut; you can no longer visualize what you were like, unless you looked at pictures for a reminder. Sadly, I had a thousand-to-one ratio of snapshots—a slew of Fergus and Safari versus an elusive picture of even my previous haircuts somewhere in the annals.

Chapter Eleven

I am to wait, though waiting so be hell;

 
Not blame your pleasure, be it ill or well.

—William Shakespeare,
Sonnet 58

・
・
・

THIS BRINGS ME TO MY CURRENT STATE: one of confidence in having made the decision and in my overall well-being. When I step outside of the endless possibilities for the future, there is one major concern, which sobers my mood. I feel like a person who has found an answer to a mystery—a corporeal enlightenment—and now knows better than someone who is still lost in the question.

The guilt in keeping the revelation to myself arises every time I look at Michael since all of the aforementioned old characteristics in myself are present in him. Even though he is fitter than I was, I hadn’t noticed before since we were in the same stage of life.

Now I can only bear witness when I would rather impel him to undergo Renovation, too. As his life companion, I should be able to come right out and tell him this. The problem is, after all I had been through the past year—feeling on-again off-again distraught—I couldn’t push him toward a decision he didn’t choose completely himself. It is his life (even though it impacts mine). He had to see it in his own mind. And knowing Michael was fine with the way his life—our lives—were I could not face his resentment if he made the choice to regenerate only after being coerced.

I bided my time, but tried to make it obvious. I couldn’t tell what was going on in his head. After the delay with my legal status, when we’d talked about my school applications again, he sounded as if he was open to considering the option. And other times he seemed absolutely oblivious.

“I’ve decided to apply for a few different programs,” I ventured.

“So, acting? That is rather drastic. We lead a solitary life—you especially. Are you ready to go public?”

“I don’t know why, exactly, but I feel I have the courage now. I think I’ve just reached a point of desperation.”

“So, it doesn’t go against your privacy policy?” he teased.
 

“
Our
privacy policy, thank you. And no, I don’t think so. It’s the virtual existence stuff I don’t buy into.”

“So, back to the schools. Here’s the catch, I’m applying directly to drama and journalism as well as to general liberal arts programs, but I now feel if I do things so-so, then I wouldn’t be using Renovation to its full potential. This is my one chance. You agree so far, right?”

“Yes, I agree you have to take the risk, but then I don’t see why you’d bother applying into general L.A.”

“That’s because I can always decide once I get in—and right now this is my primary goal, to get in—so it’s a fallback plan.

“Anyway, there are a couple programs nearby, but the really good ones are out of state or outside the US entirely. There are two in particular in the UK I’m interested in.”

“The UK? I have no idea how we would make that happen. I guess there are ways nowadays, but then we can’t know anything until you get into one of the programs. Don’t get your hopes up. I’m not saying you won’t get into one of the better programs, it’s just that admissions are usually very competitive, especially for renowned programs and you’ve been out of school a long time.

“Is UW on your list?”

“Yes, although neither its drama nor journalism program is remarkable.”

“Still, it might be a foot in the door and some things will just fall into place once you get started. We should know something by April or May, this is usually when schools send out acceptance letters.”

“It might be too late to be seriously considered for some of the schools I’m applying to, but I could always start somewhere and transfer later. At this point, I’m hoping to enroll by fall term, but as you said, when the letters start coming in, we can consider it further and make some decisions. And, of course, it all depends on where I get accepted, but if it’s one of my preferred schools than I’m willing to hold off until winter term so we have time to sort out the details. How does that sound?”