Twilight of Youth
It would take not more that six weeks, just six
weeks from this insufferably hot September afternoon on Miami Beach in 1972 for
Alan Eisenberg, a self-absorbed twenty-eight year old stockbroker and
connoisseur of expensive automobiles, to evolve into an elderly man of
eighty. As his white Corvette swept
through Ocean Drive and its art deco district, he was just forty minutes away
from hearing the chilling pronouncement from his startled physician.
As the tropical breeze caressed his face, he
observed the elderly landscape; faceless specters sitting on porches, some
walking with food carts on the sidewalk, still others ensconced on park benches
engaged in conversation. Alan had
always been intolerant of the elderly: their behavior, appearance, attitudes;
in short, he found their entire culture repulsive and alien.
His stunned physician appeared pale and troubled as
he presented the results of extensive blood work. His eyes appeared barren, almost soulless, as he attempted to
explain the bizarre results to Alan.
His normal professional demeanor and self-assured manner appeared
short-circuited. He appeared shaken,
bewildered.
The diagnosis seemed surreal. True, Alan had recently experienced some
weakness and nausea; nonetheless, nothing prepared him for the doctor's
words. His physician examined the data
on his charts and he scanned Alan's face for any reaction.
“Come on, Doc. This sounds too much like science
fiction, “Alan volunteered.”
Alan, have you heard of Progeria?”
“Pro-what?”
“Progeria. It's a congenital abnormality that leads
to premature and rapid aging in children.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Alan asked.
“Progeria is the closest frame of reference we have
to you illness.. .”
“Iilness?”
“Like I said,” the doctor continued, “Progeria is
the closest to your illness. However,
unlike Progeria, which is genetic, you've contracted a virus that has invaded
your system and is attacking the very essence of your cellular structure. In short, your cells and your internal
organs are rapidly aging. There simply
is no precedence in medical science.”
Alan stared intensely at the doctor, desperately
probing for any sign of reassurance.
“Come on Doc.
This is crap. I played almost
two hours of racquetball last week and I barely worked up a sweat. And you're telling me what? That my whole insides are rapidly aging.
Phil, give me a break.”
