Saturday, November 10, 2007
WHAT THE HECK???
When we come into this world, there should be a handbook rolled up in our little palm so that we have an idea of what to expect. Every milestone has been somewhat of a shock. I shall explain from the female's perspective, since I can't speak with authority for the other gender:
As a young girl, you wake up one day, get dressed, and discover that you have embarrassing bumps in your t-shirt. What fit perfectly snug against you one day, now looks like someone has glued peas to your chest. When you're cold, it's even worse. It really doesn't matter what you wear, the evidence of blooming is ever present. You try to ignore the boy's snickers.
As a teenager, you've gone from a t-shirt to at least a training bra, but now you face having a period every month. If your mother didn't tell you the facts of life, you go to the bathroom, discover blood, and think you're dying. If she did explain mother nature's calling, then you just FEEL like you're dying.
As an adult, you most likely give birth to a child. No one can describe the pain associated with that. The best I heard was a joke that said, "Take your bottom lip and try and pull it over your head." I think it's more like trying to get a school bus out of the garage using the doggie door, but that's just me.
As a middle age woman you notice lines and wrinkles beginning to appear. It happens overnight just like the t-shirt bumps. One day you have smooth skin, the next you don't.
Then it really becomes tense. Your breasts, once perky and upright, have developed magnets that seem to be attracted to the toes of your shoes. Whatever held up the skin on your neck has disappeared and someone fan-pleated your lips. Mother Nature thinks your hair needs a frost job, and the color isn't at all attractive. As a protective device, your body begins building a shelf to catch the boobs that are headed south. As if that isn't enough, your legs have more blue lines than a road map.
At fifty-five, you become eligible for a senior meal at Denny's. You order it and pray someone will card you. They don't.
Of course, this is just a 'thumbnail' of the horrors of aging, but wouldn't it have been nice to have a warning? Now I'm facing sixty-two. The year went by so fast, I didn't even get to say I was sixty-one. It's scary.
I went to the doctor today because my legs and feet have been swelling. Of course, I've put on a few pounds because I sit at the computer most of the day instead of exercising. I get up everyday and say, "Hmmm, jogging or checking my email... sit ups or writing another chapter?" Well you can imagine which I choose. So today, the doc tells me I need to walk more and he gives me a RX for a very strong water pill. I was so depressed over being weighed that I resolved to start walking.
There's a little park not far from his office. I pulled in and got out of the car and decided to walk the one mile track there. Let me just say... you should not try to walk a mile on your first attempt if the most exercise you've had recently is moving your fingers over the keyboard. Halfway around I thought I was going to die. Literally. My legs turned leaden, sweat was pouring from my forehead, and every step was torture. At the half mile turn, I spied my car. I focused on it, and forced one foot in front of the other until I got there. I collapsed in the seat. I had to rest a minute before driving, but once I got off my swollen feet I felt pretty satisfied that I'd actually done a half mile. I decided to go to Walmart and do some shopping. I'm pretty sure I did another half mile there.
So....it's 2:00 A.M. I just woke up with leg cramps that rival childbirth. I have never had my big toe lift off of the floor and point at me. Try walking like that. Try climbing the stairs to the kitchen to get some orange juice to restore the lost potassium with Charlie horses in both legs and your big toe standing at attention. Oh Lord. I'd rather have the swelling.
So, I've had my orange juice, I've bitched, but now I'm afraid to go back to sleep. What if it happens again? Growing old isn't for the faint of heart. I need a muscle relaxer. :) Actually, I need a good stiff drink. I can't wait to see what's in store tomorrow. Happy Birthday to Me, Happy Birthday to Me. Happy Birthday dear Ginger... Happy Birthday to me. And many mooooreeee. *lol*