THE FIRST TIME I was editor of Savannah magazine’s Health Guide was in 2018, and with each subsequent issue, I have a moment of panic, thinking what if there’s nothing new in health to talk about?
Of course, there’s always something new, often too much for one issue, because in the world of health and wellness, things are always changing — always evolving.
I couldn’t have imagined five years ago that there would be medicine on the market that may have the potential to have a huge impact on obesity, perhaps even changing the way our culture views those who struggle to lose weight. I also couldn’t have foreseen exercising in a room with infrared light to make my workout more efficient, or that a lifeguard could come in the form of AI.
I’m not an innovator, a lifesaver or a fixer of broken systems — but I do get to tell the stories of amazing folks who are, and Savannah is home to an astounding number of people passionately working to improve the health and wellness in our community. There are people like Dale Thorpe, who has been planting trees for future Savannahians for more than 30 years, and Ryan Fann, an amputee who has turned a childhood accident into a career of helping others and has earned a couple of Paralympic medals along the way.
But looking back on that first issue, there is one thing that disappoints me — one thing that hasn’t really evolved over the past few years: me.
In my Editor’s Letter, I wrote, “Coming to terms with [aging] can be tricky, so I’m trying instead to be more focused on what can help me feel and be my best right now. I’m concerned about my hearing, my aches and pains, my dental health, my skin — in short, I’m worried about the things I took for granted for the past four decades.” I’m still worried about those things, but I’m not really doing much about them. And considering I live in a place where we have access to top-notch medicine and health resources, there’s no excuse.
So — mark my words — this summer I’m going to make those long overdue eye and dermatology appointments. I’ll enroll with a general health practitioner. I’ll stop using the fact that my running partner moved away almost two years ago as an excuse not to run. I might even floss. Then, when next year rolls around, I hope a healthier me will tell you all about it.