President Donald Trump has always been good at deflecting attention in the Oval Office, where every move is watched, and every pause is analyzed. But recent pictures of his hands, which were bruised and quickly covered in makeup, have started a national conversation about the one opponent he can’t easily outsmart: time.
Trump is the oldest president in U.S. history at 79. He is showing clear signs of aging, such as nodding off during cabinet meetings and having swollen ankles and fragile skin. But in a frank interview with the Wall Street Journal, he brushed off worries with characteristic bravado, saying that his strength came from “very good genetics.”
Trump’s honesty about his health shows that he prioritizes his instincts over medical advice. He admitted that he didn’t listen to his doctors when they told him to cut back on his daily 325-milligram aspirin dose. He has been taking this dose for 25 years, even though it has side effects.
Trump said, “They say aspirin is good for thinning out the blood, and I don’t want thick blood pouring through my heart. I want nice, thin blood pouring through my heart. Does that make sense?” The result? Easy bruising has become a regular part of public appearances. He often covers it up with “makeup that’s easy to put on, takes about 10 seconds.”
One obvious event happened at last year’s Republican National Convention in Milwaukee. When Attorney General Pam Bondi and Trump high-fived, her ring cut the back of Trump’s hand, causing blood to flow.
He recounted, “The ring hit the back of my hand, and, yes, there was a slight little cut.” People who saw the episode were alarmed, and it underscored a vulnerability that Trump’s team has tried to downplay.
Sean Barbabella, the White House doctor, later said that the bruising was caused by “minor soft tissue irritation from frequent handshaking and the use of aspirin,” which is a “benign side effect.”
These revelations come at a time when people are worried about the President’s stamina. Aides, donors, and allies have observed him nodding off during cabinet meetings and press conferences, leading to speculation about sleep deprivation.
Trump strongly denied dozing off, insisting that his ability to thrive on minimal rest stems from superior genes. “Genetics are very important,” he said. “And I have very good genetics.”
There were also reports of aides raising their voices in meetings due to apparent hearing difficulties, but Trump denied having any hearing problems.
In July 2025, Trump visited Walter Reed after noticing “mild swelling” in his lower legs. Imaging revealed chronic venous insufficiency, a common condition in older adults where veins struggle to return blood to the heart.
Doctors prescribed compression socks, but Trump abandoned them after trying them for travel. “I didn’t like them,” he admitted simply.
Nighttime habits further paint a picture of a leader who operates on his own rhythm. Multiple sources report receiving texts and calls from Trump in the early morning hours after he reviews Fox News segments.
This pattern, combined with his regret over sharing the results of his October cardiovascular scan—”In retrospect, it’s too bad I took it because it gave them a little ammunition”—suggests a deepening wariness about public health disclosures.
These details raise profound questions for the American people about leadership in the twilight years. Trump’s defiance resonates with supporters who admire his resilience, but critics worry about the implications for governance.
As President Trump continues to prioritize “thin blood” over medical counsel, the nation watches a man who refuses to yield to age, even as its marks become impossible to hide.
