My body and I seem to have this problem lately. I go about my everyday living like I have done the past 50 years or so but somehow the body gets in the way now.
Yesterday I bent down to pick up the cat food dish and hit my temple on the pantry doorknob. I wash dishes, but as I put them away, I see food I missed. Every little nick from Pogo's claws becomes a blood blister. Red splotches form misshapened patterns on both arms. Even fingers are not exempt. If I scratch an itch, a mark shows where. If I dry myself too vigorously after a shower, I get a mark. Thank goodness I am not on coumadin, just low dose aspirin.
I pick up bruises like bargains at a flea market. I get bruises in my sleep. (Must have been some dream!)
Slamming the car door on my shin has got to be the epitome of klutz. Yesterday I paid for the awkwardness. Doc PCP basically poked a hole in the golf ball size bump and then scraped out the blood clots. He squeezed and pinched. After he removed the clots, he placed a wick (yes, it looked like a lantern wick only not as broad) into the wound, put a gauze patch over that and told me to come back Friday.
PH adds its own spice to my life. The joy of downing nine pills every morning. My very own microprocessor ultrasonic nebulizer to puff on four times a day. The untitled symphony performed by my stomach after treatments. Getting to know the man in brown on a first-name basis. Does going from freezing to sweating to freezing count as exercise? How about lugging an o2 tank?
All in all, it's good.
Later, Dude.
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