Stories from the Stringam Family Ranches of Southern Alberta

From the 50s and 60s to today . . .



Tuesday, September 15, 2020

Eleven Twenty-Twos



My foot hurts. I don’t know why; it keeps its own council. But this morning when I first walked, it hurt.

Yesterday, it was my shoulder. It—creaked—whenever I moved it. And forget lifting or carrying anything. It was just determined to hurt.

My knees are always ‘iffy’. Most days, we get along. But occasionally, we are at odds. One or the other—or both.

And forget my memory. I mean, really forget my memory. Things from when I was 4 are crystal clear. Breakfast? Never happened.

I used to listen to ‘old people’ talk about their aches and pains. And think, “I will never get to that point!”

I was wrong. Now it isn’t unusual for a bowel movements discussion between Husby and me to take up an entire lunch.

How did I get here? I was young a moment ago. Strong. Elastic. Now I wear wrist and elbow guards to skate.

I worry about falling. What if I break into pieces and all the king’s horses and men can’t put me back together?

Getting old isn’t for sissies. There, I said it. My baby sister posted something yesterday that I think expresses this time nicely:

I came. I saw. I forgot what I was doing, decided to retrace my steps and got distracted on my way back.

“Now I have no idea what’s going on and realized my hip hurts. And I have to pee.” Yep. This is me.


Today my fellow Word Counters and I are sharing our monthly group post. Each month one group member picks a number between 12 and 74. All participating bloggers are then challenged to write something (or a few somethings, as the case may be) using that exact number of words. Today's number is 22 and was generously donated by Karen of Baking in a Tornado!
Today we all share what we came up with.
Go and see what the others have created!
Karen
Mimi

7 comments:

  1. Oh Diane, I can so relate. My shoulder is always acting up. My knees can be iffy too. When I go downstairs, I cling to that railing like my life depended on it, because... well, it does. A fall wouldn't be good.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I'm sort of laugh crying here. Like it's funny, not funny. Many of those apply to me, but the memory part, that scares me sometimes.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Sadly yes.
    Except for the skating. Wrist and elbow guards would be totally insufficient protection.

    ReplyDelete
  4. You nailed it, in more ways than one.

    Although, as i tell Brother-in-Law, you know you are getting old when you are more worried about your colon than your sex life. That usually gets him to quit talking about his bowels.

    ReplyDelete
  5. I haven't skated since I was 10 (long story) but apart from that: yes, exactly.

    ReplyDelete
  6. I've never skated. I'm also part of the achy, creaking brigade, but eight days ago I fell over in the garden and all I hurt was my wrist, so I kept on gardening. Told my neighbour I was fine, nothing to worry about. Then four days later I woke up so stiff I could barely move. It's always that way with me. Fall now, hurt later. Much later. Weird.

    ReplyDelete

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