Overnight the skin on the inside of my elbow had taken on the texture of crepe paper and when I glanced at it my first reaction was, 'Whose arm is that?' Those who have experienced or are on the brink of experiencing this phenomenon won't need me to explain the concept of crepe paper. Those who haven't experienced it are probably still thinking it won't happen to them and won't be inclined to keep reading.
When I eventually adjusted to the uncomfortable reality that this was indeed my own arm, the great late Norah Ephron sprang to mind. For Norah, it was all about her neck. While I've grown used to my changing neck and face (because I see them every now and then in the mirror), for me it's all about my inside elbow.
I didn't have such a strong reaction when I enquired in a shop about a shirt with 'a bit of a sleeve' and the attendant mumbled, 'Mmm, bingo arms.' I accepted her comment and my upper arm sag with surprising equanimity, although I did a little more resistance work in the pool in the following weeks.
Now I'm smothering my inside elbows with moisturising creams. Alas, I fear it's too late to bring back their former elasticity – but I do see a missed marketing opportunity. Surely among those endless companies promoting skin products that regenerate and renew there's someone with the foresight to focus on the inner arm.
Hey, I remind myself, if my inside elbow is cause for some concern, then in the scheme of things I'm doing pretty well.
