I was out walking with Richard on March 20th in the early morning, enjoying what used to be the best part of my day -- that exercise and a chance to visit with him. That day I felt what I call a "little stitch in my side" and I told him that I needed to walk a little slower.
The next day I could only go half as far.
The third day, I couldn't even get across the street at the light by the church. I was going slow. Richard ran out ahead of my, flailing his arms, trying to stop the line up of traffic on Crowchild Trail from proceeding at their green light until I finished getting across.
Each day my abiligy go walk has been a little worse than the day before, until finally I was at a physicians yesterday, having another x-ray taken of my hip, since it is a mystery to everyone what is happening.
"Look at the x-rays," he said, "Your left hip socket fits perfectly into the joint here, unlike the hip on the right. It is bone on bone here at the top and doesn't have the lovely spherical shape of the hip on the left. So I am suggesting an urgent hip replacement for you."
That made me feel a lot better, since I was fearing a was a hypocondriac, telling people the pain was only getting worse each day.
In another, but somewhat related conversation, some of my email friends have been talking about the work of Roz Chast.
Today I had a chance to go see a little of her stuff: Can't we talk about something more pleasant?
I laughed so hard. This isn't really reading. And it is not cartoons. I think it is a way of talking about life ... and death.
Would love to type more but I must go looking through my things and find an ancient Channel 12 bag, or if not that, count the bags I already own and see if I can find a use for them.
The next day I could only go half as far.
The third day, I couldn't even get across the street at the light by the church. I was going slow. Richard ran out ahead of my, flailing his arms, trying to stop the line up of traffic on Crowchild Trail from proceeding at their green light until I finished getting across.
Each day my abiligy go walk has been a little worse than the day before, until finally I was at a physicians yesterday, having another x-ray taken of my hip, since it is a mystery to everyone what is happening.
"Look at the x-rays," he said, "Your left hip socket fits perfectly into the joint here, unlike the hip on the right. It is bone on bone here at the top and doesn't have the lovely spherical shape of the hip on the left. So I am suggesting an urgent hip replacement for you."
That made me feel a lot better, since I was fearing a was a hypocondriac, telling people the pain was only getting worse each day.
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| Author: Roz Chast |
Today I had a chance to go see a little of her stuff: Can't we talk about something more pleasant?
I laughed so hard. This isn't really reading. And it is not cartoons. I think it is a way of talking about life ... and death.
Would love to type more but I must go looking through my things and find an ancient Channel 12 bag, or if not that, count the bags I already own and see if I can find a use for them.
Arta
If you end up in temporary storage in my closet, I will put you in the best pottery made by Rebecca (the dissent mug?), give you a new book every day, give you a matching scary, and wrap a pearl necklace around you.
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