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discoverng frailties
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Posted by: laborat
I suppose this is a rant...a vile complaint against the frailties of aging. One of those where one is angry at oneself for only being human and getting old.
I fell yesterday. Dumb thing really. Reached down to get the evening paper, picked it up, turned, and then moments laters found my self on the floor, stopping only to impale my body against the piano in the foyer on my way down. Let's face it. We are impatient with our bodys. They are suppose to do what we want them to do without fail.
Mine didn't and continued to be stubbornly unable to follow my commands to get up and dust myself off. So I lay there on the floor. Wondering for a minute if this was the big one, the final heart attack that would send me off to heaven and beyond. Wondering if I had cracked a rib or collapsed a lung. Wondering if I was going to have to lay here on the floor all afternoon until my boy came home and found me.
Finally I came to the conclusion that in times like these you are supposed to find a way to get yourself out of this mess. If body won't workk, then maybe brain could help. So I thought about what I could do. The phone was on a table away across the room.
I kept testing my body for movementd, I was majordly messed up. One arm working. The other arm lacking mobility of any kind. Both legs were still numb. I could roll and scoot but with any sense of direction. All I wanted to do at this point was to get to a sitting position. So I headed for a sturdy wall I could scootch up into a sitting position against.
After what seems hours later, and lots of pain in joints where I had never ached
or had pain before. I was sitting up. It may not be much sitting there finally sitting up but It made me wonder of similar situations where sittling up made me nervous. All of those stupid office parties, eating in the corporate cafeteria, just about anywhere where I could place myself sitting.
The rest I suppose is a mixed bag of various and assorted ways of scootch myself up on the couch...which I finally was able to do just before my boy came home from school. One worry out of the way at least. Until he asked me if there were anything wrong. It all came stumbling out of my mouth. The ugle revelations, the stupidity of it all. Perhaps I was a little too forceful in my description of my ordeal. Whatever, when it was over boy wanted to call mom and tell her. No way I said.. I don't want to deal with this twice. Trying to find words of excuse. assuring her I am all right when I wasn't. but what do you do?
My initial reaction was to go take two morhpine tablets and hit the bed.. I slept it off. I got back up and felt even worse. after a twenty four hour vacation of rattled lungs breathing and coughing up plegm, a groad when I turned over. a BIGGER groan when I tried to turn over and couldn't.
I lay there in the bed thinking about all this and came to the conclusion that aging sucks. illness is even worse. and a combination of the two leaves one on a constant edge of between life and death perspective when dealing with the world. How many things no loger matter to me. Pretty much none of them. Not at this point. I think my normal crotchty self will return when it has something to say. Nothing to say at this point. Why complain really? Why rail at the state when nothing will matter in a hundred years from now anyways?
Why rant and rave? good questions. maybe I just wanted to get this stuff off of my chest. Makes it easier sitting up you know. It's even better it is cyberi space and though I get the occaisional meeting with someone. it is never for long. bunch of damn gypsys we are. thats good too. I am hoping this mood will pass and first step is to talk about it. Share some stinking experience with my cyber friends. Don't want any sympathy really. Just wanted to get it all out.
Posted by: redwench
have a cheese puff fizzy and some chocolate.
Posted by: Oldcrocd
Lab, talking from experience of just having to concentrate on breathing to stay with the world and being dispondent is known. Stick with it man it does get better if you can talk about it. My passion was to get from bed to bathroom and not have to do it in a bottle.
Gritted my teeth, suffered the pain and finally after and hour and half made it to bathroom, what joy (and relief!)[The bathroom is about eight steps from the bed]
I have never looked back, except on a couple of relapses. But hey man, be positive, be joyful, today you are alive. Do it today, for tomorrow you may be dead!
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