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By Lise Ott 

Setbacks offer opportunity for... what?

 


I’ve been totally bummed out this week. Even before last week’s paper was printed with my ode to spring, I knew I was having a setback.

I don’t deal well with setbacks.

I want life to proceed smoothly, without interruptions and without failures.

Oh, well.

About three weeks ago, my right knee started feeling a little funny. It wasn’t bending very well, and if I set it down wrong while I was walking, there would be a twinge.

A week later there was more than a twinge, so I took about three days off from my walks with the dog, applying ice packs when possible. Samar the Brave, Defender of Irbydale, was not pleased. She has way too much energy to be lying around waiting for Mom to get better. So I started walking again. If I was careful about the orientation of my right foot, there was almost no pain at all.

Now my knee feels like it has a heavy-duty balloon filled with jelly in it. And there’s definite pain.

Now, I’m an enthusiastic if not particularly compliant user of the health-care system. And I’m exceptionally grateful that I don’t have to drive an hour to see a doctor. So off to the clinic I went. The doctor says I’ve damaged the meniscus, and it may be several weeks before I’m back to normal. Whatever that is.

I’m still encouraged to walk, just not on uneven ground. Too bad for me that that’s the best part. No more wildflowers for the next few weeks, which means I’ll miss much of what I rhapsodized about last week. Rats.

Now I’ve decided to milk the situation for all it’s worth, just for the entertainment value. So I didn’t help at all yesterday when the person I live with had to mow the lawn, which meant picking up all the icky stuff the dog had either brought in or deposited throughout the winter. He also had to pick up all the stuff that had blown off the deck during last week’s winds.

“Oh, honey, would you bring me my book, or cup of coffee (whatever),” has become a common refrain. I need to work on my timing, though. It’s much more effective if he’s already sitting down.

Just kidding. I’m not quite that mean. Maybe.

In the meantime, how to fill the void with worthwhile activity? I could see if I could find that notebook I bought several weeks ago, and practice actually using it. Fortunately, one can’t say one fell off the wagon if one was never fully ON it.

I could also spend some time actually planning my meals, instead of scrounging through the refrigerator at the last minute, looking for something, anything that’s edible.

I could try some simple strength-training exercises, and try to convert some of my flab into lean muscle.

I could get out my pad of graph paper and plan my garden, or a new quilt.

Or I could watch TV, read a book, work a puzzle.

Or nap.

 

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