Getting old is for the birds! I've just had another birthday and while I believe myself to still be young, I sure don't feel it lately. My bones are aching and I just don't have the get-up-and-go that I always had before. I was reading an article about arthritis the other day (someone my age shouldn't even be THINKING about arthritis, let alone reading about it!) and was disheartened to read that people that suffered broken bones earlier in their lifetime, are more susceptible to get arthritis in and around those same areas later in their lives. Good heavens, I'm doomed! Do you know how many times I've broken bones in my body? Let's see if I can recall the most memorable. . .
There was that time when my sister and I were jumping like monkeys on our beds. I was laying on the floor and she was jumping on her bed and all I can remember with clarity is the evil gleam in her eye as she jumped right off the bed and onto my outstretched arm. It broke like a twig with a loud CRACK! and instantly swelled up to the size of a goose egg. Talk about ouch! To this day, I believe she did it on purpose, but I'm sure it was warranted. We were hellions to each other growing up, but that's another story. . .
And then there was the time when Mom took us girls to the park for the day. We took our bikes and rode them all around the park. Some older boys had climbed this gigantic, grassy hill with their bikes and were riding them down the hill like rockets shooting out of a cannon. Boy did it ever look like fun. I decided to take my purple bike with the sparkly banana seat and streamers on the handlebars, up the hill too. I remember thinking once I got up there, it sure looked like a long way down. I could see my Mom and sister at the bottom of the hill. Mom was waving her arms and begging me not to do what I was about to do. But, I had people to impress, so off I went. That hill was way steeper than I had anticipated and I got to going so fast that I couldn't even keep my feet on the pedals. The bike started wobbling like crazy over the bumpy grass and all I could see were trees all around that I hoped I could steer clear of. About halfway down and completely out of control, the bumpiness of the ride somehow loosened the screws holding my bike together and my handle bars completely popped right off! Oh boy! CRASH BANG BOOM and broken arm number two. I gave old Evel Knievel a run for his money though.
Then there was the time I broke my leg walking UP the stairs. Actually, I was running up them, but regardless, I felt pretty silly breaking my leg on the way up instead of on the way down like normal klutzy people would have. Hubby and I were getting ready for a weekend at the beach and I was so excited to be going that I just got too far ahead of myself and when I was running back inside for my bag, I fell and broke my leg. So much for the trip to the beach. I had a nice, pretty bright-pink cast on my leg for the next few months though, and had to learn to walk on crutches. A comedy in itself.
Oh and who could ever forget my broken leg when we first moved to Tennessee! I was driving to work one day and my brakes went out on my car. I was coming up on an intersection that was blocked off with construction workers standing in the middle of the road waving their flags, so the only choice I had to avoid running over the poor workers was to crank the wheel as far to the right as I could, flying into oncoming traffic and KAWHAM crashing head-on with a kazillion ton dump truck with a load full of gravel. You know how they say your whole life flashes before your eyes? Well, that's pretty much true. I just remember praying out loud and then bashing up into the windshield. Broke my leg in two places on the steering column and had to have surgery to have titanium pins put in it. Totalled the poor little car. Ugh. It's that particular leg that is giving me fits lately, with what I think must be arthritis. Some days I feel old as Methuselah limping around the house and my knee pops and creaks. And walking up the stairs every day for work just about does me in. Ugh again. . .
So, like I said, getting old is for the birds! I want to be youthful and pain free! No more birthdays for me from here on out. Instead of getting older, I'm going to go backwards and get young again! And Mr. Arthur Itis can just hit the road! He's no friend of mine!
No comments:
Post a Comment