One of the joys of getting older is you become more in tune with your body. The joy of not hearing or seeing is more than made up for by the joy of more pain. Yes, that gem that we all come to grips with, (if we can still grip) arthritis.
My Dad must have known something about the future, he called it: “Author-ritis” figuring he would someday have some grandchild become a writer, and maybe even write about it.
Getting up in the morning or even in the middle of the night now takes courage. Do I dare move and chance new pain, or do I stay with what I got? It usually starts with my hands; a swelling feeling in both as I awaken to its announcement that it needs acknowledgement. But we need not forget the back or legs, or sides or hips or feet, they all clamor for attention as I try to struggle to move.
Maybe I should try to wrap myself in bandages and take a room at the local hospital. I tried to explain to TLW (The Little Woman) my condition, but I didn’t want to interrupt her while she was explaining her ailments.
Some people inherit money from their families, me, arthritis, good old fashion arthritis. You wear sweaters, blankets, drink tea, and the cold days still make you feel the pain. There is one remedy that I use that does help, no not cure, just help. Jack Daniel Manhattans, they have a therapeutic effect and a sense of easing the pain, but only if I go to bed immediately after taking a few doses will it seem to go away!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment