Tuesday, February 26, 2013

And What Are The Options?

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.

Love...Ms. Moon













26 comments:

  1. Oh dear. Getting caught up here.
    So sorry to hear you are suffering.
    I always find myself trying to figure out if my mother is doing better or worse....when in fact she is 88. 88 1/2, actually. She is aging, and no matter how I care for her I can't stop that.
    As for me. Oh, hell. I'm sixty. And I fucking hate how people oohed and aahed over Jane Fonda at the Academy Awards. Give me a break.

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  2. Denise- I am fed up to here with celebrities who look great at the age of sixty and beyond because they have had the benefit of every sort of surgery, medical science, personal trainers who watch every move they make to make sure they do it correctly, personal chefs, Etc. Etc.
    Also makeup artists and clothing designers.
    They can bite my ass.
    Also? I thought Jane looked like an alien in that weird yellow dress with the pointy shoulders. A freaking alien.

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  3. Mary, that "Seriously, I need to remember" paragraph was just beautiful. You Have accomplished so much in your lifetime with your faithful body. I need to remember that about mine too when it pains me....neck, ugh, from a car wreck.

    A martini sounds like the best of ideas and I hope it relieves the bother of your hip a bit.

    Jane Fonda....is just plain Sad.

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  4. I am thinking about a mass suicide -- virtual -- for those aged fifty and above who are tired of faking it. No Kool-aid but martinis and some sort of citrusy sour vodka drink. Keith Richards can join and play the role of Jim Jones.

    That sounded pretty sick, when I actually wanted only to express my sympathy for your pain -- both literal and figurative.

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  5. Watching my mother get older and sicker has been a horrible wake up call that we are all headed in that direction one way or another no matter how well or badly we take care of ourselves.

    And those celebrities may look good but death is going to get them too. It does not discriminate.

    I'm sorry you are sad Ms. Moon. Have some martinis and a good night sleep and I hope tomorrow you will feel better.

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  6. liv- Hello, dear. I am so glad to see you. The martini did help but we all know that's such a transitory sort of help. Well- better living through chemicals, as they used to say.

    Elizabeth- And what you said only made me adore you more. I almost mentioned Keith tonight and then thought, "Oh well. They're so tired of Keith." So thank you for mentioning him for me. I keep seeing his beautiful old wrinkled, craggy face smiling despite it all.

    Kelly- Go out and have all the wildness you can muster. That's what I say. Because believe me-the time for that is limited and when it ends, you just sort of wonder why you didn't.

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  7. I really think the martini is the key to it all. And hell yes, drink his too. I keep my bottle in the freezer for just such an emergency.

    When my Mom's dementia cleared up she told me what she's been up to at the day program the past three years with a man who had flown for the British Navy during the war. If she can turn heads at 87 with a bum hip, q vacant stare, wearing Depends and pushing a walker...and here I was worried sick about her.

    Maybe the hokey-pokey really IS what it's all about.

    -invisigal

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  8. I have just seen what the aging process can do. Seriously, my wife and I talked about how we would definitely support assisted suicide or euthanasia if we could get a Dr. Death to take my MIL out of her misery. I am not looking forward to living until an ancient age. I hope that you will do the exercises. We do what we can.

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  9. anonymous said ' when my mom's dementia cleared up'

    really? I didn't know that was possible?

    As for Mary, you rock baby, don't kid yourself, I wouldn't let my husband w/in a country mile of you. ha.

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  10. Invisigal- Well hell. Let's hear it for your mama. I have not given up on the coconut oil. Whatever helps. There is no cure but whatever the hell helps...

    Syd- It is a sin and a shame that our culture does not support the easing on out of life when it is truly done. I will always believe that. I think that we, as humans, should have a choice when it comes time to say, "I've lived long enough."
    I'll do the exercises. Yes. We do what we can. I sent you an e-mail. Thanks for being my friend.

    Deirdre- Coconut oil. That's what cleared the dementia.
    I sincerely believe that you could safely leave your man and me in the same room for 24 hours without any fear. I am so not cute any more. But I love you for saying that.

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  11. I'm hating my body these days too -sadly, most of what I hate IS completely in my control. I need willpower. And more vegetables. And motivation.

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  12. I think you are cute for sure and I can also relate to every single word you wrote and hate to say I want to be invited to Elizabeth's party... S Jo

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  13. As sure as we get better so shall we get worse and then better again.
    I think it is a societal thing Mary. We are provided no space for aging, and are only told in so many words that we are goners. However, I refuse to go out meekly. So be it.
    Tomorrow is a new day.

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  14. Oh Mary. That sort of news does SUCK!

    I wonder if ace wrapping when you are using it would help, or maybe the occasional cortizone shot?

    You have definitely walked some miles woman. I wonder how many...? That would be fun to know.

    I feel ya on the "WTFWTP" moment. I have been having quite of few of them myself for different reasons lately. I wish I had something useful to say about it, but I really do not... well, except that they do pass.

    Hope you sleep well and that everything looks a little shinier in the morning.
    Hugs to you and the Mr.
    xoxo m



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  15. Oh btw, you probably already know this, but flax oil has anti inflammatory properties and also aloe juice. Aloe juice is not expensive and it also help digestion.

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  16. Gosh, I can relate to the realization that "shit, I peaked already - probably about 15 years ago" I too think about how my beauty used to stop men in their tracks. And now they look right past. It is a strange realization indeed. I suspect (and hope) that you are like me and only have those depressing realizations infrequently! Here is to tomorrow.

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  17. I had a good snappy comment, then the cat knocked his little glass bowl of pâté onto the tile floor and it shattered. So I had to go clean it up before the dog cut her tongue up on pâté glass. Now all I smell is Friskies pate.

    I agree with you about the humanity of assisted death. We can euthanize a sick dog...

    I think you're cute when you curse, but I'm like a sailor so who a, I to know from cute? Feel better about yourself and your body,

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  18. Well, we're all on that same slippery slope, to one degree or another. Your approach sounds like a good one -- do the exercises, adapt and reorder. (And drink a martini or two!)

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  19. Oh dear, this is sad and I can feel a flash of sympathy pain coming on in my hips joints which are not the best in the world on any day.
    Now, I am a great fan of osteopathy and rolfing, not because I have seen lame people walk again or any such dramatic developments, but because a good osteopath or rolfer can make you feel more frienldy towards your body. And someone who knows the stuff may over time be able to help you to slowly get better and understand why. But this is based on my very limited personal exp. and (sadly) I do not get any money out of my sales pitch here.
    Look after yourself.

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  20. Know that you are not alone in what you have written. This hit home for me too. I am prob wrong in that I have hardly any pictures of me anymore. If I went missing my husband would be showing an outdated photo I suppose.
    --Michele R.

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  21. Well, he sounds REALLY good. And the exercises work, I know so many people they've worked for. I need them too! I have my own hip problems... gah. I'm not looking forward to what will develop in the next few decades either.

    It is fucking depressing, you're not wrong.

    And how am I meant to see the wv numbers, you bastards, they're tiny and blurred and four digits long. Grr arg!

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  22. Bugger Damn and Bollox indeed, we need a female Keith Richards. Its all very well him being beautiful (which he is) but he's a HE!
    I know you don't want to hear about what you have got . . . but don't underestimate teeth and hair!
    Half my hair went with the onset of the men-pause and three quarters of my teeth went(yes the denture is waiting in the cupboard ready made, too scary!) after a late pregnancy.
    And you'll look back in another ten (?) years at, say, the photo of you and Gibson on the bed the other day . . . And think, well, you know what you'll think.
    Pain, I don't know about (yet) but I do know you are beautiful and funny.

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  23. I laughed and cried and laughed and winced and identified with the heck out of this post. Everything you write here is true for me. My son, who majors in exercise science and sports psych, has been trying to teach me to walk again. He says I, too, have been doing it wrong my whole life, and this is the source of my injuries. I too have exercises I am supposed to do and they have helped. I too went to a doctor who did an x-ray and told me I didn't have arthritis some years ago,so I continued on with my wrong walk and favoring this ache and that until i became an absolute mess. You should see me trying to get up from the ground. I am in awe that you get down there so often with your grandsons! Ah, Mary. So much of what you write here is so piercingly true, and yet, for someone who temporarily misplaced her sense of humor, it's funny as hell too. I hope you don't mind that I laughed. It's so much better than crying. I am sorry about that wrist though. Dr. V sounds like he knows his stuff. Another doctor might have recommended surgery. Thinking of you, loving you, hoping Keith Richards or whomever comes along a brightens your day. xo

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  24. Oh Mary. This made me cry, for you, me, all of us. I just left Angella's page and cried a little with her too. It's hardly fair, is it? I can see the whole story stretching in front of me, and the ending sucks no matter which one I get. I think that dealing with chronic aches and pains is as depressing as anything. I'm glad you found a dr. to look at your big picture, and tell you honestly what he thinks, even if it's not the greatest news. There will be days when you can celebrate something as simple as functionality in a joint, and other days when you wonder how we could end up with such a pathetically low bar for celebration.
    Good days and bad days. I wish us all a few good ones, pain free.
    Me, I'm drinking too much wine, which doesn't help much, especially the next day, but I get an hour or two at night where I don't have to listen to the sad commentary in my head. At least you have chickens and grandbabies. I have a foot of snow. Did that help at all? :)
    xo

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  25. SJ- Oh honey. I understand. I've got that shit going on TOO! Isn't it nice to know that things get so much better in every way as we age? (Hysterical laughter.)

    S. Jo- It's gonna be a BIG party.

    Rubeye Jack- And it is tomorrow and honestly...well, there's always another tomorrow. But I agree with you. And I applaud you for not going meekly into that good night.

    Ms. Fleur- As always, thanks for the sweet words and at this point, I don't really need digestive help (that will come soon, I'm sure) and I'm trusting Ibuprofen for the anti-inflammatory thing.

    Jill- I only wish I didn't know what you're talking about. I only wish I didn't think about it ALL THE DAMN TIME.

    Heartinhand- You're a good kitty mama to buy the expensive stuff. AND YOU PUT IT IN A GLASS BOWL? Fucking A! We should have a curse- off.

    Steve- What the hell else can we do? Dammit. Dammit. Dammit.

    Sabine- Doesn't Rolfing hurt like hell? I thought it did. You are right though- it is very, very good to feel better about your body. I think. I think I remember how that went.

    Michele R- What you said about if you went missing and they would have to use an old photo of you? I've been thinking about that all day, ever since I read your comment. BECAUSE IT IS TRUE FOR ME TOO!

    Jo- YOU DON'T HAVE TO DO THE NUMBERS! I promise. Skip them. It won't matter.

    Bugerlugs- You delight me. Thanks. And you're right- we DO need a female Keith. But who in this world would qualifty? The criteria for male and female beauty are so very, very different. Which is what sucks.

    Angella- God. We ARE sisters, aren't we? And honey- it is NOT a pretty sight, seeing me get up from the floor. I have to think about it first for about a minute. Then the actual act begins. And it hurts and it looks like it hurts. And I'm glad I made you laugh.

    Mel- It does help. It really does. We are all going through it or WILL go through it and there's really no way out. And you know what? My chickens and grandbabies do make me happy. So there is that. And I don't have snow and that makes me happy too. May your spring arrive soon. I will wish that for you.

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Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.