Escape with Eddie
Here I am, zinging around all day. Sometimes not a care in the world, but writing articles on time, petting the animals, cooking, cleaning, all the various chores of daily life, and there’s nary a twinge in the joints. Well, maybe one or two, but certainly nothing to complain about to anyone.
Then, you experience the wake-up call! You’re sleepy, you turn out the light, get comfy, turn to your favorite sleeping position, and WHAM! Your joints ache, that shoulder that hasn’t bothered you for a month of Sundays is suddenly demanding attention. Naturally, at the first twinge you tell yourself it’s just your imagination. You roll over again — BOOM, THROB, ARE YOU PAYING ATTENTION YET? The mad yapping chorus of physical awareness starts creeping into your consciousness.
I don’t understand how laying down in a bed and getting comfy can be a prelude to physical assault. I know, of course, age brings its awareness to us all the time. After driving the car for a few hours, I’ll stop to get gas, and WHAMMO, I crawl out of the driver’s seat and realize my lower limbs are a tad stiff and don’t want to cooperate. After balancing on the feet for a few minutes, all gets better and I fill the tank. The walk into a gas station to pay goes without a hitch. The walk back to the car is a cake walk. Still, there were those moments when the body parts began to rebel. What I don’t understand is this: I can go for hours pain and ache free, but as soon as I crawl into bed, all those nerve endings, muscles, joints, and hidden bodily structures suddenly make themselves known with WHAMMO, BANGO, THROB, THROB, and HOLY COW, where did that twinge come from anyway?
I think when you get into the superior years of the aging process your body thinks its time to play tricks on you. What was a simple task at 16 becomes a complicated maneuver at 74. I can’t complain too much, because I have really been quite lucky. I don’t have nearly the issues many people younger than me deal with on a daily basis. However, I do find fault with interference in my sleep habits. At my age, I need all the rest I can get. After all, aging takes a lot of energy.
I’m not a big believer that you have to take a pill for every twinge. However, even I, after rolling back and forth for an hour, will finally “bite the bullet” and take something to deal with the constant ache and discomfort of unmitigated pain and misery. My question of course is why this has to happen when I am all set to enjoy the comforts of sleep and contentment after a full day.
The answer, which I am not at all happy with, is simple, like the poem about the one horse shay, which gave service for a hundred years and a day and finally went to wrack and ruin. I am not saying I have completely fallen apart, but there are definitely parts of me that used to function better. I have discovered only one knee aches with regularity. It’s the one that hasn’t been scoped out yet. The other one, repaired a number of years ago, has ceased aching. My resolution is that perhaps it is time to scope the right knee, and then perhaps I might get that sleep I so earnestly require. Fortunately, this is not a nightly occurrence, but I am as sure as I can be, my knee is suggesting I pay attention. I remember a time when body parts did not speak so loudly.
Growing older is an experience that comes once in a lifetime. I will just have to persevere to see where it leads — probably, the bone doctor’s office.