SLOWLY IN THE MORNING

Morning. Too early. It doesn’t matter what time it is, it is always too early. Lying in bed, I do a quick overall checkup to see what hurts. If any part of me doesn’t hurt, will it start to hurt when I move? Can I move? Can I stand?

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Various parts of me wake up at different times. The brain more or less engages first, cranking at half-speed. Getting up to speed involves caffeine. Meanwhile, I get ready for “the big push,” also known as “getting up.”

Eventually, I do it. Sometimes, I delay awhile by flipping open the Kindle and checking my email. I hope there’ll be a note from my doctor ordering me to stay in bed. Sadly, there’s no official memo, so I pivot into legs-off-the-bed position and ponder. This particular morning, Garry has an appointment at noon which means we actually have to get up. Because Bonnie also has an ear infection that needs tending and I need another pair of hands to get it done … and I am not going anywhere without coffee.

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Arising is a slow-motion event. Like watching a tree sloth making his or her way through the low hanging branches of the rain forest. These days, I do most everything slowly. All our friends move equally slowly. Oddly, we still talk fast. Type fast. Laugh frequently, though right now (and I’m referring to Real Politics, not our personal lives), life isn’t quite as funny as it was.

No more warp drive. If I can get there, it’s good. Getting there slowly is still getting there. The end not only justifies the means, it’s the part of the voyage that matters.

THE DAILY POST | SLOWLY



Categories: Humor, Morning

Tags: , , , , ,

26 replies

  1. Good morning to all….

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  2. The minute i start rushing, I start falling! Lots can still be accomplished even at a slow pace.. and it is necessary lately–within the past two or three years! Same with remembering. Thinking goes fine but remembering takes some work and concentration. Again, slowing down.

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    • Better to slow down than go down. I’ve taken a few relatively minor falls. They were a warning shot over the bow. A quick reminder that a serious fall would have serious repercussions. So yeah, I do everything carefully and slowly too. ESPECIALLY stairs. I wish this house were flat. Those stairs are wicked.

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      • the last one is the killer.. I knocked myself out twice tripping on the top of two stairs leading from my bedroom up into rest of house.. both times sprawled into the corner of a wall that I hit with my head and saw a few stars.

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  3. I know exactly how you feel in the mornings. I don’t come alive until that early morning coffee, and then it is getting through the day – slowly and creakily.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I’ve never been a morning person… and given my unusual sleep patterns, morning can be at almost any time of the day now. If there’s no alarm involved (only on my “weekends”), it usually takes me a looooong time to finally crawl out of bed. And then only if I absolutely can’t fall back asleep…

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  5. Our morning routines are very similar… I didn’t have an active youth as you mentioned in another comment, but I think having four kids in four years, then chasing after them for the next eighteen plus years, is what drained my body. I don’t use a cane because they hurt my elbows, but I have some great walking sticks. These past few weeks, I’ve been considering getting a wheelchair. Seriously, and not for the first time.

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    • I’ve thought about a wheel chair, especially on weeks like this when absolutely EVERYTHING hurts. But I know once I put myself in a chair, i won’t get up again. So my intention is to stay on my own feet — my pain pods, I call them — as long as I can. Because even though walking is no long easy or fun … and I can’t do it very long … once I get the chair, I’ll be housebound for all eternity. You know what’s REALLY tempting? Those little scooters. If you’ve never played with one, they are lot more fun than they look!

      I think running around after four kids is VERY athletic!

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      • Manual wheelchairs are difficult. Power wheelchairs are fun, but you’re right about the scooters. They *are* fun! Don’t think once you’re in a wc there is no going outside. It is still *very* do-able. It only takes a few more minutes than walking and getting ready on the slow-side of things. If you should need a device, go with the scooter first. I went to high school and college in a scooter, and only after a car accident did I need to go to a wheelchair full time. I know about the moving slowly and getting up slowly. Right now things are better for me than they’ve been in years. Here’s hoping you *do* get a cane, because they’re just darn cool things, and maybe, much later on, a scooter!

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        • I actually would love a scooter. The problem is money — and accessibility. This house is very handicapped unfriendly and I don’t have the wherewithal to install a chair lift. But there’s no way to get in and out without a lift. The stairs are way too steep for a ramp. When we bought this place, I never imagined I would be in this place. But a little fold up scooter that might fit in the trunk … Well, maybe. If I can figure out the logistics. And finances (I think Medicare pays for either a chair OR a scooter, but no help with a lift.)

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          • Medicare *will* pay 80% of a wheelchair or scooter as long as a medical professional, i.e. your doctor, says you need one. If you have medigap insurance that picks up the other 20% you will be OK. Scooters don’t usually fold up for a trunk, but they will come apart and are very dheavy. My husband took mine apart a lot, but the main body is heavy. You *can* get the little racks to go on the back of your vehicle, however. They are most convenient. As for the inside of the house, there may be a program to help re-work the inside of your home in your area. There isn’t one in my area. 😦 But I know they exist.

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      • My husband keeps saying he’s gonna get me a scooter. And yeah, I have the same thought about wheelchairs.

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  6. What’s the rush. Time to take our time.
    Leslie

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Canes have value that anyone younger cannot appreciate. My mother had one, as much for personal expression as for balance. She had a hook at the end of it, and could bring down groceries with an alarming accuracy. She also got me across the back of the legs more than once, ow.

    They are also handy for crossing streets, (you could cheat and have one with a white tip) for getting someone’s attention, or just beating clerks into submission. If you kept it near the bed it might also make getting out a bit easier.

    Most mornings I feel akin to a beached whale, far from the ocean…

    Liked by 1 person

    • I used to think it was just me. It turns out that almost everyone who had an active athletic youth pays a price for it later. They do NOT tell you this when you are galloping around on the horse and occasionally, falling off. Or when you are trying to perfect your straddle on the uneven bars. Or playing football or baseball. Pretty much all of us did most of the damage when we were … well … kids. Enthusiastic kids who thought we’d be young forever. Or at least, never imagined getting old.

      I’ve thought of getting a cane. There are times when it would be really useful. They make photographic monopods that double as walking sticks and I’m pretty sure that one of those would also make a pretty good weapon. Good way to get that clerk’s attention, eh?

      That “beached whale” feeling seems to be a lot more universal than I ever imagined possible. Life never works out quite the way you planned.

      Liked by 2 people

      • my husband was a first class skier, he hiked every weekend, and it was a pure joy to watch him ski. Easy, graceful, no fancy hard landings. His knees and hips gave out about ten years ago and his back followed. He doesnt really get it when I tell him it was all that skiing, and climbing.
        Being the watcher instead of the doer does have its perks.

        Get the right cane and you are walking with classy. =) it also gets traffic to stop if you need to get across the street.

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        • I could actually probably afford a cane. Probably about the limits of what I can afford 🙂

          These days, people are much more aware of the damage we do to ourselves with sports. When I was a kid, no one wore helmets for riding horses or bikes … and falling off meant you were supposed to climb back on right away. My husband has finally come to grips with the damage accrued in his years of hauling heavy equipment at a run to catch a story. He wasn’t supposed to carry it, of course, but he couldn’t let the camera people do everything and just watch. Now … he’s paying.

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  8. I am with you almost all the way, but my physio therapist has now shown me a way to get up with less problems and it makes it easier. Sit as near to the edge of the seat as possible, put your feet back as far as possible and stand. It really works, although when I am on my feet I need the cane to stablise. Otherwise before actually leaving the bed it is always good to think about it and checking through the night of e-mails, messages and online stuff is a necessity – brain therapy.

    Liked by 1 person

    • That is actually what I do. My bed is a bit too high for comfort, but that’s because I’ve shrunk to a pitiful little thing and everything is too long, too high, or too something for me. I should get a cane. I could hit people with it, too.

      Liked by 2 people

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