On The Eve Of My Disability

A year ago I was bragging about being able to ride my bicycle for 14 miles each morning and to go to the gym and perform a lengthy and involved workout and to jog, power-walk and fast-walk for 5 or 6 miles daily.

 

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Image Is On Pixabay And Is Creative Commons

I was proud of the fact that I was 79-years-old and “In better shape than most of my peers.”

This morning, I am sitting here at this keyboard, my left leg, knee, ankle and foot wracked in terrible pains all because I dared to walk to the gym and work on an elliptical machine for a scant 15 minutes yesterday.

In order to move about my house, I am forced to walk like a turtle and to hang onto furniture to steady myself. It takes me about 5 minutes to move from my bedroom to the kitchen. A cane helps, but not much!

Acetaminophen tablets are helping a little bit and because of blood pressure problems, I am not able to take the more powerful Ibuprofin.

It is amazing just how fast a person can deteriorate from glowing, confident health to a condition of misery and apprehension.

I would be bitching and complaining a lot more this morning were it not for the fact that I know a couple of people who are far worse off than myself.

One of my internet friends has recently undergone what must have been horribly difficult and exceedingly painful operations to remove toes from a foot.

My Cousin is no longer able to drive her automobile and is more or less confined to one chair in one room of her sprawling house for the day — every day she lives.

Forgive me, folks — I am venting a little this morning because it seems to help a little bit.

What I managed to do yesterday was to put too much pressure on the affected foot thus bruising it considerably. That’s what happens when a person is inactive for a few months and gains too much body weight and does a little exercise for months at a time.

Basically, this is my fault and the fault of the severely-limiting weather we have been having around here all through this winter season.

I think I might have found a new genre to write about. I think I might start researching and writing about coping mechanisms that people can use to deal with advancing age. It might help me and it might also help somebody else as well.

4 thoughts on “On The Eve Of My Disability

  1. Medicinal Marry-Jane brownies. Best coping mechanism ever.

    Be thankful you made it to 79 without falling apart. What you’re describing is more, or less, where I am now. Actually, I think you’re better at the moment…And I’m several decades younger and have never suffered any kind of injury beyond a Charley Horse.

    Three-four years ago, I too was going to the gym and was in the best shape of my adult life. Comparable to back when I played football. Now I hurt everywhere for no reason at all. I sound like a bowl of Crisped Rice cereal in the morning.

    I blame The Illuminati.

    Liked by 1 person

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