Found this blog along with about a hundred others that I started last year but didn't finish or publish. It's from October 2021. Thankfully, all is well with my leg now. I haven't laughed nearly enough these days, although the memory of this incident has helped.
My blogs might be on restart mode. We'll see how this goes. Gone are the days of trip info and celebrations. I don't want to write about bad news, the virus with which some people seem to be obsessed, the latest in trivia, sports teams, or movie stars. I also don't want to make this depressing. I hugely admire "older" female writers like Loretta Laroche and the now deceased Erma Bombeck. In fact, I once took a writing course and told the instructor that I enjoyed the writing style of these women. He looked down his nose at me and proceeded to tell the class about his science fiction, fantasy, vampire, and alien novel which he had completed and was trying to get published.
I knew that laughing is a good tonic (an old person term to be sure). I am going to try to paint some pictures with words describing events in my life.
I've always had issues with focus...this is nothing new. I've been called a squirrel more than once, although I think the word more likely comes from distracted puppies who are busy, but then get distracted when they see a squirrel.
Other than things like going down the downstairs to the freezer three times to get butter, and resurfacing from aforementioned basement on each occasion with clean laundry, garbage, and soft drinks, but no butter, I have all the usual aches and pains, a little Sunday to Saturday weekly pill suitcase, and memory farts that most "older" adults develop.
Yesterday, my moans, groans, and creaking bones, weren't the only sounds emanating from me. I did something which caused me to laugh so hard, I forgot about all my aches and pains.
Part 1
I have some pulled tendons and a tear in the meniscus in my right leg. Add that to the moderate to severe arthritic knee and OUCH. I've gone to physio...fun. Armed with a wad of exercise sheets that I've been attempting regularly, plus icing my leg each day, there has resulted in some improvement. Yesterday morning, after icing my leg, I was feeling a tad chilly and crawled back under my covers. Since I was wide awake, I decided to use my time wisely and pulled out my empty boxes to sort my pills into the appropriate days of the week. I placed them on my nightstand.
Part 2
As I neared the end of my sorting and organizing from bed, I dropped a pill...on the floor. Annoyed, I hung my head and torso down the side of the bed, being careful not to uncover my cold legs...an odd angle but it worked. I located aforementioned errant pill just under the wooden bed frame, picked it up, and proceeded to tell my upper body to get back onto the bed. As much as I told my body to do this, it refused to budge.
Part 3
I tried lifting myself by pushing on the bed frame, and I attempted pulling myself onto the nightstand, but it was all in vain. I was left with the only option I could think of...crawl out of bed, onto the floor. I put my palms on the floor and walk myself forward, being careful not to further injure my leg. As I did this, my pajama bottoms decided they wanted for the most part, to stay in bed without me. I started to laugh and laugh at the absurdity of it all.
Part 4
As I landed on the floor and turned myself over, still unsure how I was going to get back up, the words from the old commercial, "I've fallen and I can't get up" were ringing in my ears. My pants were around my ankles, I was grabbing for anything that could pull me up, and hubby walked into the room. Without batting an eye at the contorted half clad mess on the floor, he asked, "Are you doing your exercises?"
I laughed and laughed for the next five minutes. He must have thought I was insane. Nonetheless, as it often is, the day was much better after that.
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