Falling Apart and Getting Together

I am lucky that I don’t have a major health issue but that’s not going to stop me from writing a whiny post about all the little stuff that’s keeping me from popping out of bed each morning with a great attitude and my arms outstretched and singing Sound of Music style. Why can’t I be like that? Maybe if I could throw open the windows and listen to the sounds of spring it would be different. But the furnace still runs, my winter coat is still needed and we’ve even got a chance of snow back in the weather forecast! The Canadian Geese haven’t even been by yet on their way up north. Skip the robins, honking geese is my signal that spring is on the way. Come to think about it, I haven’t seen a robin either. They’d have to have microwaves to defrost worms for their dinners. I want spring and if it doesn’t show up soon I’m going to have a hissy fit!

I have so much to be grateful for yadda, yadda, yadda and yet it’s a collection of petty stuff that’s dragging me down. Remember the Popeye’s Elbow (Olecranon Bursitis) I wrote about a month ago? It didn’t go away on its own like Dr. Google predicted happens in most cases. It got bigger and redder and I called the doctor’s office. They got me in the same afternoon to see the nurse practitioner. I’m allergic to some of the (shotgun type) antibiotics commonly prescribed and the one she put me on has this written in all caps on the bottle: IT’S COMMON TO HAVE DIARRHEA WITH THIS DRUG! Yippy I oh, won’t that be fun! I also have to use heat on my elbow four times a day and go back next week to get it aspirated if it’s not gone. It’s not going to be gone. My Lucky Human Being Card is expired.

Then there are the hives I’m starting to wake up with again. This has happens like clockwork every 4-5 years my entire life. So I’m taking Zyrtec to limp through until I see my internist in April. I blame him this time for messing with my thyroid meds. It’s a balancing act. According to an autoimmune specialist I saw a few years ago, thyroid antibodies are causing the chronic hives aka I’m allergic to myself. Also going on: I broke off the side of a tooth and I’ll probably need a cap. Thankfully, that doesn’t hurt because I don’t dare to make an appointment with the dentist until after I’m finished with the round of antibiotics for my elbow. Same goes for the foot doctor that I need to see about two different issues going on that interferes with me falling asleep. And speaking of sleep, when I wake up in the morning I have an eye that’s getting crusted over and doesn’t want to open without a warm compress. I feel like a one-eyed minion from Despicable Me. And if anyone brings up the fact that a year ago I was preening about going to the gym and losing the weight I gained back over this past winter, I’m going pitch a probiotic Activia cup at their head. On the good side, a split fingernail I’ve been trying to grow out for over a year is nearly to the point where I’ll no longer need to put a nylon patch on it every Sunday. See, I can still appreciate my first world blessings. 

The complaint department is closed. Now on to some fun I had this week at an Irish Pub with four of my Gathering Girls friends where I had a great corn beef sandwich and a decadent chocolate dessert. They still had green beer but I’m not a beer kind of person. Though I miss the days of having a designated driver because I would have loved having a grasshopper, if people even make those crème de menthe drinks anymore. We laughed as if we’d been drinking, though. Boy did we laugh and I managed to dig out my rusty flirting skills and practice on a couple guys who were going by our booth on the way to being seated near-by. One of the guys paused and said, “We could just sit with these ladies. Their food looks pretty good.” “I’ll slide over and share,” I said, “I can’t eat it all.” He bantered back, “You’re not shy. I like that.” I took a little teasing from one of the ladies about talking with strangers. “Quiet Jean! Who would have ever guessed you had that in you?” Answer: Almost anyone who knew me in my twenties.

We were still there laughing and talking when the guys left after their lunch and the friendly one told us to “behave yourselves, ladies.” He got ten paces away, then turned back to say, “No, don’t do that. Have fun!” We always do. The funny part is that “behavior yourself, ladies” line is one I often use on young service people---at the hair salon and in restaurants---but it’s the first time someone used it on me. Ohmygod, it was a match made in heaven and I let the old guy walk out of my life without a second thought. Just kidding. I caught up with him in the parking lot and slipped him my phone number and if you believe that, I’ve got a bridge in Brooklyn to sell you. But sixty years ago? ….well, I might have done that. It's fun to remember what it was like to be young. I just can't be it anymore. More's the pity and disappointment in that admission. ©