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There’s a poignant paradox about older people and sex. As our worlds get smaller — work slows down or ends, physical abilities recede, traveling gets more challenging, friendship circles narrow as people die — we tend to have more time and inclination to savor the parts of our lives that are emotionally meaningful, which can include sex. But because bodies change, good sex in old age often needs reimagining, expanding, for example, to include more touching, kissing, erotic massage, oral sex, sex toys. (Jones, 1/12)

Say it’s 2050 and you just turned 70 years old. You feel as vigorous after a workout as you did at 35. Your skin has nary a wrinkle. You don’t have to remember where you put your glasses because your vision is still 20/20. Your mind seems as sharp as ever. Will people eventually routinely live—and live healthily—longer? That’s the vision of the burgeoning field of aging research, where scientists are trying to extrapolate tantalizing life-prolonging findings from animal experiments into medicines that slow, prevent or even reverse the aging process for humans. (Winslow, 1/11)

Two years into a pandemic that has strained health systems and made booking doctors' appointments next-to-impossible for some, patients are providing more of their own care at home. Elizabeth Ditty says she struggled to get a doctor to pay attention when she felt lethargic and unable to lose weight. So a year ago she ordered do-it-yourself kits for medical tests to measure hormone and cholesterol levels and detect food sensitivities. Based on the results, the 39-year-old screenwriter in Kansas City, Mo., adjusted her diet, adding supplements and eliminating eggs. She says she feels better and has lost weight. (Morris, 1/11)

Most people think of melatonin as a natural nod-off aid, kind of like chamomile tea in pill form. Even the name of the popular dietary supplement sounds sleepy — that long “o” sound almost makes you yawn mid-word. But melatonin is also a hormone that our brains naturally produce, and hormones, even in minuscule amounts, can have potent effects throughout the body. (Nierenberg, 1/11)

This is the time of year when Americans would ordinarily be flocking to their local gyms, and replacing the carbs in their kitchens with kale. As 2022 kicks off, though, it seems that one more casualty of the coronavirus pandemic is the New Year’s fitness resolution. For the diet-and-workout industry, omicron couldn’t have come at a worse time. Anxiety about mingling with strangers — especially while exercising — is high, and morale is flagging as Covid-19 cases soar, leaving the nation with a wearying sense of deja vu. “I’m kind of terrified to go back into the gym right now because of Covid,” said Stacey Wacknov, a health care communications consultant who lives in Phoenix. “Our rates of vaccinations are horrible,” she said. (White, 1/10)

Howard Solomon was chief executive of a New York-based pharmaceutical company, Forest Laboratories Inc., in 1994 when his 31-year-old son Andrew sank into a deep depression. The elder Mr. Solomon invited his son back into the family home in Manhattan, helped nurse him and searched for medications that might help. That search increased Mr. Solomon’s interest in an antidepressant sold in Europe by a Danish company, H. Lundbeck AS. He approached Lundbeck about the possibility that Forest Labs could license the antidepressant for sale in the U.S. Lundbeck’s CEO, Erik Sprunk-Jansen, initially was reluctant to consider the idea. (Hagerty, 1/12)

On a visit to a public hospital in a farming community in late November, I saw something that astonished me. Empty beds. Rows of them, their black plastic-covered mattresses stripped of sheets. Blue privacy curtains folded up over rails, out of the way. I had never seen a Zambian hospital like this. When I last toured one, nearly 15 years ago, patients lay two or three to a bed, head-to-feet-to-head. And more on the floor. More on thatch mats in the hallways. The patients were gaunt, their eyes huge above sunken cheeks. Hopelessness and suffering hung in the air. (Nolen, 1/11)

Before Covid, the swabs most people were familiar with were small ones like Q-tips, used for ear cleaning, first aid, cosmetics and crafts. Now, however, the Washington Post reports that the major domestic producer of swabs for medical testing, Puritan Medical Products, is churning out 100 million swabs a month, leading the Post to declare that we’re living in “the golden age of the swab.” (Zimmer, 1/13)