Medications, complications of incurable, unendurable uncontrolled diseases take command of how you sit or stand, how and when you'll pass a stool or constantly be frustrated and constipated, whether you'll pee normally or endlessly messily zipped, unzipped and ill-equipped to aim straight and it may be too late. You may be headed for St. Pete's Golden Gate.
Old age is a stage of growing doubt whether you'll make out with that attractive, active chick of seventy-six with the sexy lips and swaying hips. Do you lust for a gal who still drives a car? Can she tell you who you are? Should your mind stray or flip its cells or lose the use of some elemental mental component and cause you to have a senior moment?.
Then there's the problem of choosing, keeping or losing friends. When friendship ends in death or from some other incurable complication, or the mind goes on a permanent vacation, as Alzheimer's does with some old timers or even we old rhymers you may be slipping toward senility.
How do you replace someone whose memory you can't erase? Or forget the name of someone you just met? And every time you're out of breath you know you're one breath nearer death, Or when you cough or shout your dentures fall out. Or if you laugh at someone's gaff or witty retorts you'll wet your shorts? And every time you bend or stoop you poop.
If these innocent unintentional incidents, events and accidents cause embarrassments and augment comments to some extent you might as well face the fact you are exactly what these acts impart, you are just a plain old fart.