So I didn’t get my driver’s license until the early twenties. I forget exactly when. Didn’t need one. I biked everywhere. Oh, those godzilla legs. (That’s what some guy said as I was walking down the street). No spinning. Just powered my way through sun, rain, snow. The hope is that this won’t be awful for the leg and may actually help it. And because Summer.
Here’s to hoping and rehabilitation.
Put the cane down. That isn’t a metaphor. I just put it down. Thought experiment…what if this really is the new normal? This constant low grade pain with occasional flares of what-the-fuck? Add this to the year of lessons in mortality. Little deaths. My body is not what it was. It’s degrading. And that’s what happens with age. Old isn’t bad. Yeah. I’m fifty and that is a number and big whoop. …
Some insignificant word as proof of existence leaked into the ether.
Emotional and physical reserves dwindle, and as they do, the locus of focus shrinks and shifts to an almost pinpoint. What makes you happy? What is important? What do you need to get by? The list is very short. There is solace and comfort in doing what it takes for that one list: have the next meal, make sure the boys know I love them, maybe tell a few people …
Breathing. Walking. Freedom from pain and a some food. Weak sunshine on a cool day. There really isn’t much to ask of life sometimes.
White. Round. Respect for chemistry and what it does. Man. This tiny pill is some cortisone anti inflammatory juggernaut that killed the pain and allowed me to walk. It also makes the rest of me feel numb. It’s weird. I think I’d rather feel than feel like this. But it’s been a few days of being able to walk without wincing. I now understand why I’m only on it for …
I made hollandaise from scratch, poached eggs, and sauteed greens and put it all on sourdough toast. I drank cappucino made lovingly in the oh-so-cluttered kitchen. I did not do the dishes. I went back to bed. I woke up again. I drew. And wrote. I am now having cheese, and bread. I am contemplating cracking open a bottle of wine. Maybe I’ll do the dishes. I tag this post …
via Gone Google http://goo.gl/l4bZb
I’m manually entering in all my old posts and comments. It’s not so bad to read what was. Makes me appreciate words. Not just mine, but the words of all those who visited. The first blog post, entitled “So This is It” has tidbits from a recurring cast of characters. Wonder where Francois is and how he is doing?
