My friend Dr. Sara Zeff Geber coined the term “solo agers” after realizing so many of her childfree friends were caring for their aging parents.

The question loomed large: Who was going to care for them when they got older?

Geber’s term has expanded to include older adults who are geographically distant from their children or who choose not to rely on them for help as they age.

My husband and I know all too well the challenges of aging alone, as we had “adopted” our elderly neighbors in their last five years of life. With no children or nearby relatives, our neighbors had no one to lean on as their health worsened and activities of daily living became impossible.

Recently my husband attended a tax conference in San Diego. He came home with a complimentary backpack filled with “swag” that included a journal, highlighters, pens and logo’d Post-it notes.

Also inside the backpack was a webcam cover. This was a new one to me. My husband routinely has a piece of tape over his laptop camera, but I assumed it was for when he had an early-morning web conference call (pre-shave and shower) and didn’t want his fellow Zoom conference attendees to be subject to his bedhead.

More techie than a piece of tape, the webcam cover is made for your laptop, computer, tablet or smartphone. It attaches to your device (usually with sticky tape that is included) and slides open when you need to use your webcam and closes for when it is not in use.

Most of my medical challenges occurred when I was young. Years later, I can’t really remember my feelings after those experiences.

But as I contemplate my recent health scare—a piece of steak lodged in my throat, resulting in a tear in my esophagus—I know that it’s definitely taken an emotional toll on me.

My friends say that I don’t sound like myself now. I’m normally an upbeat, energetic, gregarious person.

Today, I would describe myself as anxious, subdued and fatigued. While I know intellectually that one’s time does not go on forever, now I really feel mortal.

I had been chalking my feelings up to a bit of post-traumatic stress disorder from eight hours of not being able to swallow and ultimately undergoing emergency surgery.