Did You Say SHORTS? A Guest Post for Jamie Wright

I had a fun thing happen! On a whim, I left a comment at TheVeryWorstMissionary.com when Jamie offered a giveaway of three guest post opps. And I WON! Begin fear and trembling. What in the name of heaven does an old lady have to say to such a young, hip crowd as those who read this woman’s amazing words? She was encouraging and I stewed and prayed for about four days, and then, this came pouring out. You can start here and then follow me on over to her place to read the rest . . . 320-main treadmillGetting old is ripe with indignities. Go ahead, ask me how I know. I watch my 93-year-old mom take daily steps further into the haze of dementia, and I fear for the future. And then I realize — the future is here. Yowza.

In four months, I will be 70 years old. 7-0. I remember struggling a bit with 35, taking a deep breath at 40, sort of reveling in 50 and feeling resolute about 60. But 70? The word that comes to mind is sobering. Also? More than a little bit humiliating.

Case in point. About a year ago, I injured my left foot while taking a morning walk — on vacation, no less. That led to a couple of months of physical therapy, which led to a different injury, same foot, which led to three months of tests, boots, ice packs, and assorted piles of pillows.

Ultimately, a new set of x-rays revealed a congenitally crooked heel bone, which had likely led to the two tendon insults in the first place, one of which proved to be a nearly irreparable tear.

And that meant surgery — to break and reset (with two titanium screws) that gnarly bone problem and to clean-up and re-connect the bashed tendon.  Which meant, NO weight-bearing for a minimum of two months.

And? Ta-da. MORE physical therapy.

I am happy to report that I am now walking, in two shoes, and trying to re-learn how to move this elderly ankle of mine. And just last week, I was invited to try out a brand, spankin’ new, space-age treadmill called the Super G.

What they did not tell me is that to use this machine, I had to wriggle myself into a pair of strangely shaped walking shorts made of neoprene. Listen to me now — I have not worn shorts of any kind in over twenty years. Twenty years.

Even when I was younger, stronger, and more shapely, getting into this particular pair of shorts would have been a good trick. Now? Holy Toledo, it is . . . well, humiliating.

In a good way, of course. Yeah, that is pretty much the oxymoron of the century, I know. But what this strange, gravity-defying machine is teaching me is that sometimes humiliation can be a very good thing.

Come on over to Jamie’s good place and encourage the old lady, okay?

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Comments

  1. Diana! I am SO happy that you won the chance to Guest Post at Jamie’s wonderful blog, because now it has led me back to your blog and a new fun connection for me! Loved what you wrote and I left a comment there. Can’t wait to sit back and read more of your blog! Susie
    http://www.recoveringchurchlady.com/

  2. Pamela Green says:

    loved this Diana, the Lord takes you through a lot of twists and turns but He always seems to give you the best along the way. By that I mean, the wonderful care your Mom receives, the great doctors, the right diet to follow, the way out space machine and insurance to cover it all. Through all your trials you are truly blessed!! Hey I am going to text you my email address so you can fill me in more thoroughly on your activities the next month. Love you!

    • Yes, there are blessings in this season, too, Pam. And for those I am deeply grateful. Thanks for leaving a comment today, cousin. Love you.

  3. this just made me laugh out loud! Thanks for the great story! 🙂

  4. Oh, Diana!!!! I’m just now getting around to reading this, and there are so many comments over at Jamie’s, I thought I’d comment back over here instead. This was so good – and hilarious! So grateful for you – for so many reasons.