I feel that my body has been transposed somehow over the last 36 hours. As I check in the mirror, I wonder whose frame now hides my triathlete body. The recent more memorable and painful difficulties initiated during the monsoon weather that invaded Chicagoland the last two nights. We had some ridiculous total rainfalls at O’Hare. For example,our cleaning lady couldn’t come because she had a boat in her back yard. She doesn’t know where it came from but it was bobbing away in her former flower garden.
We know the pain goes up in this weather. I think I could outline my hips without need for an x-ray for I sure have noticed them lately. It’s funny when you see Bob and I walk. It’s like some video you put in that is running in slow motion. Then there is Einstein right next to us moving at fast scan. I think some birds assumed I was a statue with my speed on slow. I missed their bombs though.
Our dumpster outside is gaining notoriety. Picture a couch already stinking from a fire and add ten inches of water. The mosquitoes are in Seventh Heaven and are booking rooms for summer vacation. I’ve noticed they are flying in though with clothespins on their noses to avoid the stench. Not a fun monstrosity to stroll by since it takes me a good ten minutes to pass.
With an achy frame that could be the poster child for any arthritis or fibromyalgia group, I have started to notice how differently I act when that pain scale hits 10 or above. My daughter has long since pointed out that she can tell how I am feeling by the speed I drive. I go much slower when my body is yelling at me in efforts to avoid any accident. Today I just sat in the car and put it in reverse. I’m more tired so you can note the pillow creases embedded in my cheek. Our culinary skills dissipate – we had popcorn for dinner. I also tend to use more humor. The neighbor’s brother thinks I’m hysterical and ready for the stage, but I think my jokes are a way for people to concentrate on my words instead of the screams of agony under my many rolls of my body. Lately my daughter has called me “goofy” when we text back and forth. I just pray she doesn’t notice the tears running down my plump cheeks.
I’m aiming for my blogs to be shorter in length so you avoid them fearing you lack time to read a tome like War and Peace. I’m not having a lot of success there if you haven’t already noticed. Thanks to each and every one of you who do take time to read my thoughts for it makes me feel as if this rounded body has at least a little worth left inside. Your notes and emails mean much to help me bother to look in the mirror or even pry my fingers from my clenched blankets on my bed. I’m humbled when I look at the number of hits so far accumulated this year. (I’m pretty sure I get more each week than my beloved Cubs.) You truly are my gift from God each time you type my site on your computer. Thanks.
Way God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove Life is Good:
- Go to the restroom and look in the mirror. It’s you guys who take time to read. Thanks.
No comments:
Post a Comment