Lamenting and Limping

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Laurie: My back has been out (not as in “out on the town,” more like “out of commission” except for when my vertebrae decide to crush the nerve endings; then there is some hellified commission going on) for almost a week. I’ve tried drugs, back braces, cold, heat, inactivity, ridiculous pain-riveting activity, visualization and just plain ignoring it. Nothing seems to be working. The upside is that for months my hip had been bothering me. It seems the pain in my back has totally wiped out that. I’ve traded up. And what’s even worse—as I toting barges and lifting bales when this happened? No, I was doing my daily physical therapy exercises to prevent back pain as I felt the muscles slip into spasm. Now where is the fairness in that?

elizabeth: I was walking around with a numb foot and I knew it meant something. The end of 4″ heels that will make my calves sit up and cheer and the end of putting off the inevitable. I rarely see my doctor because I come from hardy stock  (I don’t think I like that term –sounds like I could put a choke hold on an elephant) and I believe that some times the body can take care of its own problems. I am not being foolhardy and I don’t ignore signs that persist. If I did, my sisters could be in the throes of who gets what pieces of jewelry. (Don’t tell them this, but I will be wearing every piece of jewelry when I go to wherever it has been deemed fit for me to go). You told me I overdressed so I might as well go out with an overly stylized look for the ages. A steel enforced coffin for moi.

Laurie: I can accept the fact that I’m getting older but irony is not lost on me. I was headed down to Maryland—days all blocked out on my calendar, appointments made with friends and family, car gassed up, and suitcases out. There’s a lovely group of people from my small town that include me in their activities as if I had graduated high school with them. I would have had my mother not thought that changing locations was the solution to most of life’s problems. And this year we all turned a certain dreaded age (you would have to pry my cold dead lips apart and count the rings on my tongue to ever get that secret number) so what better time to have a huge birthday party?  I can think of none, and somehow it took the sting out of forced maturity. Ah, but Ms. Lawson must send her regrets. The repercussions of age prevent her from celebrating her age. Ain’t that a bitch?

elizabeth: Any body wants to know Ms. Lawson’s real age in dog years, please call me at 1-800- She-Willshootme.

I had a lovely MRI that informed me that I have a punched nerve and I have to go steroids for six days. Oh, I am so excited about that. So if you need any heavy furniture tossed around your apartment, now is the time to ask. My doctor assures me that I won’t gain weight. This is from the same doctor that told me that my thyroid medicine would help me lose weight. Lying bitch.

So look at it this way—you’ve got ten years to get that back good and strong. And if I am still on steroids, we can start our own moving and heavy-lifting company.  



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