Taking Inventory
"Do you hurt anywhere right now?' they ask Don first thing when he is seen at the VA Hospital. And he always says, "No.." How can that be? I wonder this because Don has osteoporosis. And I don't, but if they were asking me and I sat quietly, I could tell them that my thumb hurts at the base on my right hand and right above my hand on my left arm hurts, and there is a band on my back just below my neck that aches a bit, and the right side of the headache area is activated as it would be in a migraine if I had migraines any more. Now that isn't much I know. But I don't understand about Don. He has some spinal column work done with the same thing you use to seal up windows; he has the osteoporosis; his hip hurts too much for him to ever walk more than a block; his left leg is totally swollen from poor circulation. And I begin to understand that pain is to the beholder as is beauty, relative. So I let him know when I hurt and he does not let me or anyone know about his hurts.
Sometimes when we are at odds a bit or just unsettled, I will ask for a "Getting Current" a management I learned once in a twelve step group. First one person tells about a period of time using "I words", without blame, the good experiences and the bad. And then another does the same. And that way everyone knows what is going on with each one. "Who will go first," I will say. "You first," Don will answer. Don will listen to my "I words" and try not to interrupt, and then when it's his turn, he will say, "I have nothing to report." And we are done. Is that a man-woman thing?
So I know that I probably spill too much and he spills not a drop.
Seems like a good time for a "Getting Current" right now. About me and my family, partially including Don.
The Christmas tree still stands. The ornament of the Marcel Marceau on the unicycle is well spotlighted by thefurnace's blowing of the tinsel to feature it. I've loved each Christmas card and any written note included. I gained a bit of weight surely from the chocolate I continued to eat all day, so much chocolate thatl Don disgustedly decided to hold the prime rib for the next day. I met the family by phone, hearing about a motor bike, cameras, video games, a remodeled bathroom project, family entertainments, good times.
I'm remarkably healthy, 75 going on 76. I'll probably live til 96. I have new lines down from my mouth like a ventriloquist doll. I note them, regret so many sour looks, rub Vicks on them at bedtime. I still have my own teeth, my hair is no longer bottle blond but natural grey. There is a balding spot above my forehead. I wonder "who in the hell" is that old lady in the mirror? And don't worry about it.
It is good living here in the mountains. It's nostalgia time living in someplace so like the canyon cabins of my childhood. I eat with the "ladies who lunch" three times a week and work on a group puzzle. I read, knit dish cloths, watch Charlie Rose and films on the telly. I sleep from 12 to 8:45 with BBC and do my 3 pages until 9:00, drink my half cup of coffee and with laxity plan out my day. (To be continued)
Sometimes when we are at odds a bit or just unsettled, I will ask for a "Getting Current" a management I learned once in a twelve step group. First one person tells about a period of time using "I words", without blame, the good experiences and the bad. And then another does the same. And that way everyone knows what is going on with each one. "Who will go first," I will say. "You first," Don will answer. Don will listen to my "I words" and try not to interrupt, and then when it's his turn, he will say, "I have nothing to report." And we are done. Is that a man-woman thing?
So I know that I probably spill too much and he spills not a drop.
Seems like a good time for a "Getting Current" right now. About me and my family, partially including Don.
The Christmas tree still stands. The ornament of the Marcel Marceau on the unicycle is well spotlighted by thefurnace's blowing of the tinsel to feature it. I've loved each Christmas card and any written note included. I gained a bit of weight surely from the chocolate I continued to eat all day, so much chocolate thatl Don disgustedly decided to hold the prime rib for the next day. I met the family by phone, hearing about a motor bike, cameras, video games, a remodeled bathroom project, family entertainments, good times.
I'm remarkably healthy, 75 going on 76. I'll probably live til 96. I have new lines down from my mouth like a ventriloquist doll. I note them, regret so many sour looks, rub Vicks on them at bedtime. I still have my own teeth, my hair is no longer bottle blond but natural grey. There is a balding spot above my forehead. I wonder "who in the hell" is that old lady in the mirror? And don't worry about it.
It is good living here in the mountains. It's nostalgia time living in someplace so like the canyon cabins of my childhood. I eat with the "ladies who lunch" three times a week and work on a group puzzle. I read, knit dish cloths, watch Charlie Rose and films on the telly. I sleep from 12 to 8:45 with BBC and do my 3 pages until 9:00, drink my half cup of coffee and with laxity plan out my day. (To be continued)
posted by Barbara Buttel @ 1:41 PM
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