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I hit the hay each night hoping for sleep and a clear mind when I wake up.
So, is it any wonder, after recent rains have brought my old nemesis Arthur Itis to visit? I hate taking medicine because there's always a side effect, but when the pain gets to the point I'm nearly immobile and crotchety to boot, I curse those pills and down a few.
They haven't done their magic yet but the gray matter is still functioning. I think.
As I type this, random thoughts flutter by and once in awhile I catch the essence of one. For instance: How much of our pain is self inflicted?
In my case, if I were more active, I'd have less pain. The worse thing for Arthritis (and many ailments) is being sedentary. And if one is not constantly medicated (the first option for most people IMHO) then you wind up riding the pain roller coaster. Too tired because you're in pain; too much pain so you sit; move around to remain flexible and you start to feel better and overdo it!
Of course, some people love pain! You know the kind. They whine to friends and family; are forever being doctored for their various ailments and have convinced themselves they need assistance for their plight. And run for cover when their short fuse is lit!
How dare someone suggest they need an attitude adjustment by way of weaning themselves off their drug of choice!
I witnessed this while waiting at the post office, of all places. In shuffles an obese woman whose cane seldom hit the floor - being draped over her wrist like it was.
Five people were in line in an 8'x14' waiting area with a counter in the middle for customer use. First, she announces she can't bear to wait in line. A kind Southern gentleman steps forward (3rd person in line) and says she can take his spot.
He walks to the end of the line while she bumps into everyone and everything to the third spot. And then drops her cane! And whines again. Seems the two people in front of her knew her. Poor souls. Or wise souls as it turned out.
"Well Sissy, I see you're walking around now," says one woman.
"Hmph! Not like I have a choice," Sissy spouts as she begins her litany of grievances with a family member.
While the rest of us glance at one another with knowing eyes, Sissy has the floor and becomes more animated - and flexible - as her plight is explained.
By the time she left the rest of us in line were shaking our heads. A little small talk ensued and wouldn't your know it, we all had ailments and pain. Arthritis, MS, Parkinsons, a prosthetic leg, a steel pin and Shingles!
Like I told the postal clerk, Drama must be her middle name and #1 Poor Me Street her address.
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3 comments:
Well, for years my dad said he would lay in bed and hurt or maybe get up and move a bit. Once he's moving it's not so bad. Might as well move.
I'm getting there myself, but I'm fighting it.
I'm afraid there is always at least one in every crowd now days!
One more reason to stay away from large groups!
I had the fortune to run into this woman again today at the grocery store - after she played the same song while standing in line. I stood in front of her and counted to 10 a few times while the clerk glanced our way. Finally, I turned and said: "Didn't I see you a couple days ago in the post office complaining the same way?"
You could have heard a pin drop.
She didn't know what to say based on the blubbering half formed words that came out of her mouth.
Meanwhile, I retrieved the items from my walker basket. CATCH that, I was using my walker and not complaining about it. Ms. Poor Me kept staring at my walker so I said, "Ain't she a beauty?"
She didn't answer.
I paid for my purchase and turned to Ms. Poor Me.
"You need to stop whining and be grateful you're even have a life! Now get on with it and shut up for a change!"
Guess my lack of medication makes me a bit fiesty.
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