Bitch on the Blog

May 19, 2016


Filed under: Amusement,Happiness,Health,Nature — bitchontheblog @ 15:56

By temperament and nature I tend to comfort people and animals. What people and animals? All of them. Earlier I spoke to … don’t ask.

This post has potential to NOT be comforting. Particularly as some of my readership is slightly/vastly older than me. “Vastly” is, obviously, relative – but there you go. I am twenty five to your 76. My breaking point – and by design I took it in my stride – when I realized that I will have fewer years ahead than those lived. This may sound obvious. It’s still a bit of a shock. Once upon a time the future stretched out ahead of you like, I don’t know, the Sahara/The Grand Canyon/or whatever else is vast, the next you are in a damp cellar. Never mind. I’ve lost my thread. Give me a moment.

Got it back [my initial thought]. I do appreciate that some of you I am in holy and sometimes unsettling communion with do have physical problems. Not necessarily anything alarming or dramatic. Just niggling. Curbing your appetite. Don’t ask me to join [the club]. I absolutely refuse to succumb. Drag me back to the cave on my hair – I WILL NOT SUCCUMB.

And here is my point – and I have high hope of all of you to throw your creaks into the Canyon: To this day I take my body for granted. If I were a car – in terms of years – I might find myself in a ditch (break pads worn). I would ACCEPT it. As I am not a car of considerable mileage I am ASTOUNDED when bits of my machinery make themselves known. One of my wrists clicks at a certain angle of movement (result of multiple breakage) every so often, though rarely, and what do you know: Suddenly I am AWARE of my body. When I really want to frighten myself I wake in the early hours and wonder what on earth is going on INSIDE. You know, all the bits you can’t see, laying dormant making as little noise as a mouse (ie none). Not a twinge. That’s subterfuge. When I want to scare myself even further I imagine rotting away inside without noticing it till it’s too late. You may ask “too late for what?”. My sentiment entirely.

I am no hypochondriac yet will confess to TWO things: I am in total awe of what the human body can withstand, what’s the second? There are too many seconds to choose from.

Hugs, kisses, hisses, wishing us all well,





  1. Not to worry. You will get where some of your vastly older readership reside. In bodies that do more than all that your, so aptly compared to a car body, does.

    Comment by rummuser — May 19, 2016 @ 16:11 | Reply

    • My dear Ramana, I once had a car you needed to kick start every morning (in winter). It’s why I decided to live (and park) on a slope. No wonder I am so fit.

      You are right: I will get there. Later rather than sooner, I hope.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — May 20, 2016 @ 11:05 | Reply

  2. SIr Cadogan: “Be of stout heart, the worst is yet to come!”


    Comment by cheerfulmonk — May 19, 2016 @ 18:27 | Reply

    • Thanks for the laugh, Jean. “Stout heart”? Sure. Till it gives out. For some reason, and I fail to see why, my heart is perfectly fine during the day. But when I wake, haven’t even moved yet, it beats faster than I can run. Not a particularly pleasant feeling. Though forgotten two minutes later. Till next morning …


      Comment by bitchontheblog — May 20, 2016 @ 11:04 | Reply

  3. I have never known a hypochondriac who admitted to being one. Rather than thinking of Urself as something ready for the recycling plant, U can take the attitude that U are a classic. Something to be refurbished and collected.

    Comment by Looney — May 20, 2016 @ 01:27 | Reply

    • Oh, Looney, that is such a sweet and chivalrous twist you put on my spin.

      Who’d have thought it? I have found my true calling – on the way of becoming a “classic”. Are you a collector? If so, please put in your bid before someone else snaps me up and puts me into their chamber of best forgotten horrors.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — May 20, 2016 @ 11:03 | Reply

  4. Interesting post. I am at the stage of jalopy. Old reliable. Needing a bit more oil now and again. But game. Never forget game.


    Comment by wisewebwoman — May 20, 2016 @ 17:25 | Reply

    • Dearest WWW, you have added to my vocabulary. “Jalopy”.

      “Game”? Yes, and it hangs well.

      Well oiled greetings,

      Comment by bitchontheblog — May 23, 2016 @ 09:15 | Reply

  5. Ursula, hows your iron level? Please get it checked

    Comment by kylie — May 20, 2016 @ 22:59 | Reply

    • Thank you Kylie. I am practically made of steel – which I know is not the same element as iron.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — May 23, 2016 @ 09:15 | Reply

  6. I have managed to pass through several decades with my body (and mind) remaining almost perfect. More than I can say for many much younger folk.

    Comment by Cro Magnon — May 21, 2016 @ 06:14 | Reply

    • Yes, Cro, and thanks for landing in my blog’s comment box (didn’t think I’d see the day). Same here [remaining almost perfect – on the assumption we were perfect in the first place. Which, of course, we both were].

      However, unlike you (or so your words imply) I don’t pride myself on being more or less intact. Some of us win in the lottery of both genes and luck. In other words – lucky genes. I thank the fairies at my cradle.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — May 23, 2016 @ 09:14 | Reply

  7. Little bits here, wax and wane – lately the body has been under pressure, and it’s due to be needled as in flu’ jab – so that means it will probably set to and deal with that…as it has done often

    Comment by cedar51 — May 23, 2016 @ 04:46 | Reply

    • Dear Catherine, I steer clear of flu jabs. Mainly because I am dead suspicious of them (and other “proactive” jabs) and secondly because I rarely succumb. Let my body and whatever swine a flu it may prove battle it out between them.

      Good luck,

      Comment by bitchontheblog — May 23, 2016 @ 09:20 | Reply

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