Bitch on the Blog

May 19, 2016

Ephemeral

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

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,

U

 

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14 Comments »

  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.

      U

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

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

    body-trade-in

    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 …

      U

      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.

      U

      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.

    XO
    WWW

    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,
      U

      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.

      U

      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.

      U

      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,
      U

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


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