Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.
Today this word takes me right to my own self. I never thought much about how it would be to be physically broken at this stage of my life. Never thought it would be such an effort just to go up and down a flight of stairs, or take a short walk, or climb up on a bed. Getting in and out of a car can be a challenge. Partly, it’s my height. Or, rather, lack thereof. I’m used to having to climb up on stools and ladders to reach stuff. It continues to be slightly annoying, but it’s nothing new.
But the weakness, the slowness, the uncooperative muscles? I wasn’t expecting that. Not yet. Most of it is due to the back problems that started about three years ago. If you’ve never had serious back issues, be thankful. And please don’t think that those who suffer are just faking it, for goodness’ sake, or using it as an excuse to get out of work. While I know there are those who do that sort of thing, most of us would LOVE to be able to put in a full day’s work without the accompanying pain and debility.
I took a lot for granted before all this mess started. Bending to pick up a baby, to make a bed, to clean a toilet or tub, to scrub a floor–never thought about it. I had the strength and energy I needed, and I guess I just expected it would always be there. Sure, you slow down a bit as the years go by, but I truly didn’t think that at nearly 71 I would be in this condition. Maybe by 85 or 90. Not yet.
But, lest I leave you on that gloomy note, I have NOT given up or given in. There is a lot that can be done to restore strength I lost while I really couldn’t move much at all. Working on it. Hoping to improve. There’s always hope.