Advice from a small town girl

Recently I’ve had a look at another world. It’s a world that many people already inhabit. The world of infirmity.

We all know people who live in that world. Some are in a constant state of pain. Some teeter on the edge between being able to move and not. Some live under the burden of incurable and/or terminal illness.

I’m not even close to any of those situations and yet here I am, complaining again! Please don’t be offended when I tell you that I don’t like this world and have no intention of staying in it.

I’m hoping I actually have a choice. Many people don’t.

About two weeks ago, muscles in my lower back started complaining. They were polite at first, but have been getting increasingly loud. Last Wednesday they started screaming.

A trip to the doctor ensued, where concerned and caring people (I love the Odessa Clinic!) treated me kindly, asked me a few questions, and asked if I could touch my toes. Oh, right. I’m not even sure they’re still there.

Then they gave me a shot and sent me on my way with a prescription for something to relax my muscles, along with instructions to stretch “gently.”

“If you’re not better in two weeks, call me.”

By the time you read this, the two weeks will be up, and who knows where I’ll be (back-wise, anyway.)

You see, I have about 200 pumpkin plants to set out. This should have been done three weeks ago, but bad weather and more urgent farming demands kept the tiller out of the garden. Now my pumpkins are stressed, and they really, really need to be planted.

So do my 54 squash plants, 24 gourds, a few melons and cucumbers.

Okay, so maybe I overdo the pumpkin thing a little. Maybe I overdo the whole garden thing a little. But that’s another story.

At any rate, I’ve had issues with sciatica before, and I was sure this wasn’t it. The spasms were reaching up into my underarm and shoulder blade. Sure, there was a little pain in my lower back, but it seemed to be in a much higher location than last time.

Oops.

I started getting worried when I realized that the surface of my right leg was numb. Then it started feeling like it was just going to buckle. Walking is a bit like depending on a slightly undercooked noodle.

So I connected with my good friend Google and did a little research on the symptoms of sciatica. I’m no doctor (and I don’t play one on TV) but I’m pretty sure that’s what’s going on.

Between the sciatica and arthritis in my right knee, the world has suddenly become a difficult place.

The knee makes kneeling or squatting painful.

Bending over from the waist tends to exacerbate the back problem. And it doesn’t help to know (and I do know – why is there such a gap between knowing and doing?) that if I had kept up even a rudimentary exercise routine, this might not have occured. My lack of commitment to the state of my body has left me with virtually no abdominal muscles at all.

As if all that wasn’t enough, last week someone told their daughter that I sounded elderly on the phone. And of course she shared it with me, cruel thing.

Elderly!

I’m drawing the line. My 87-year-old father is elderly. My 58-year-old self is NOT.

To be continued . . .