I am sad and depressed tonight. Not depressed like clinical depression but like shit, this sucks.
And it's nothing. It's nothing new, nothing I didn't know.
Dr. V. operates out of his home, or at least it looks like his home, and he is all business and has a degree in body mechanics and is from Malasia which I know ridiculously little about. He is a trim man and he seemed to be interested in the fact that I have chickens and immediately upon seeing me walk and stand he asked me about various parts of my body which have indeed been injured or overused or misused and I have no doubt the knows what he's talking about. He put hands upon my hip and did some manipulation but mostly he gave me a set of three exercises to do and then he attempted to teach me to walk properly which, it turns out, I have been doing improperly my entire life and which is tearing my body down and if there is anything more difficult than the idea of relearning to walk at the age of fifty-eight, I am not sure what it would be.
Still. I am going to try.
The injury on Saturday night occurred due to the overstretching of my ligaments on that side of my body and that hip has been bothering me for so many years I can't even tell you the number. I know that I went to see an orthopedic surgeon at least eighteen years ago about it and he x-rayed it and told me I had no arthritis and sent me home after a lovely chat. It has been one of those things I've learned to live with and I've blamed it on carrying babies on that side of my body since I was twelve when my brother Chuck was born but I was probably built crooked to begin with and that has only exacerbated the problem. Over the years I have cocked that hip more and more and I'm sure that's why I've had injuries in my calf, in my foot. I stand wrong, I walk wrong. I obviously dance wrong and I am wrong in all regards, it would seem.
I asked him to take a look at my bad wrist and I think I am more depressed about that than anything. He barely looked at it, took it up in his hand for a few seconds, laid it gently down and said, "Oh, this is very bad." He said that it's a mess in there from the bone being set wrong when I broke it and that over the years adhesions have formed and so forth and that if I did get surgery on it, it would probably not be "successful." That he can help me with alignment of it and circulation but that would be it. He left me realizing that I am never in my entire life going to not be in pain from this wrist and that as I age it is probably going to get worse and it is already far more of a bother than I even care to admit and seems to get worse by the day.
The reason I am depressed is that this is all just more definitive evidence that no, I am not going to wake up one of these days and be who I used to be. My face is still going to frighten me in the mirror, my skin is going to continue to wrinkle and fold itself into horrific origamis, my cuteness will never, ever be a factor in any conversation or encounter I ever have again, my memory is not going to improve, and now my vertebra are going to thin, I am going to have less and less function of my hips, my legs, my wrist.
And I am always going to be in pain.
At least I still have a great deal of hair and I am loathe to even say that, knowing that as I do, I am going to jinx myself and it is going to start falling out by the handfull. And my teeth- they are decent, although they've always looked fucked up and still do, they remain serviceable and my own. But you know, overall, there are no magic bullets. I used to go fairly regularly to a chiropractor, did yoga for three years and here I am. I have walked regularly and faithfully most of my life and it turns out that I have been doing it in such a way as to hurt myself. There is no expensive face cream or body lotion which is going to turn back the calendar. Surgery of any kind is probably NOT GOING TO BE SUCCESSFUL.
Hormones are not the fountain of youth.
Coconut oil probably is not either.
And so it goes.
I suppose the trick is to accept with grace, to do the exercises Dr. V. has given me, to try to learn to stand and to walk differently, from the shoulders, ignoring the hips and legs and letting the feet fly over the ground as he demonstrated. But at the moment it all seems so hopeless. And I have arrived at this feeling of hopelessness by means of what was supposed to be a lovely and for me, rare night out, a night of music and dancing and look where it's led.
I'm sure I'll perk back up again at some point and I'm not exactly wallowing in despair, although perhaps I am. I wouldn't put that past me. But I am definitely having a what-the-fuck and what's-the-point moment and please don't tell me about all of the things I CAN still do. I know that I am still capable of a lot and will be, hopefully, for some time but it feels as if the tipping point has been reached and breached and that it is all downhill from here. I have no desire to hear about women who are still doing yoga or dancing into their nineties and beyond. I know these women exist.
I am not one of them. And for the moment, I seem to have misplaced any grace I might ever have had and also and more worryingly, my sense of humor.
Blecch. Fuck. Shit. Damn hell.
I believe I am going to make a martini. With my good hand. And cook supper. Mr. Moon has had a rough day of it too and is still far away from home. I will gladly drink his martini as well.
Seriously, I need to remember that I have used this body long and well. It has brought me much pleasure and I have asked of it much work. It has given birth four times, it has walked countless miles, planted seasons upon seasons of gardens, carried and toted and lifted and tended babies, dug ditches to lay PVC, dug huge plants out of the ground, crocheted and knitted and embroidered and sewed and chopped and sliced and hauled and pulled and so on and so forth and yes, I have danced.
I will try to put this all in perspective and adapt and reorder my priorities and DO THE DAMN EXERCISES. I honestly believe that Dr. V. knows the body and I would be a fool to ignore him.
All right. That's enough.
Have a good evening.