The headline is a throwback to the '60s or '70s and refers to a pair of panty hose in a plastic egg. Not being an aficionado of panty hose, I don't even know if they still make them. But, golly, it was mid-Century brand marketing at its best.
And it refers to walking. Moving. Taking care of business. Being able to think about doing chores without adding "if I can stand up" to the sentence. I'm back to making lists. Like today, I was out on the patio with my morning coffee and noted an accumulation of pine needles from the hell tree (a ponderosa pine) in the front yard. They're those long ones, with three needles to a…what?…stalk?
In any case, they get into all the plants and are nearly impossible to pick out without tearing up leaves and branches and such. If the tree did not provide excellent shade to the house, I would try to get the Homeowners' Association to cut it down. So, after a while (and especially after a rain, as we had for Halloween night) the needles pile up on the patio and it starts looking like a forest floor.
Before I went inside, I stood up, picked up the broom and swept the needles into a pile. Wow. It was an automatic thing, and I didn't stop and wonder if it would kill my back. And it didn't.
Waking up stiff now means something much different than it did in my younger days. I get up with a slight soreness in the low back. It starts to complain as I move around, but I just push through it, stretch the muscles and complete my current task. After about an hour of moving around, things loosen up, and I'm walking freely before I pour my second cup of coffee.
Until now, I've been limited to one or two things a day (do the laundry, do the shopping, take a shower, take out the trash, vacuum: pick two). Today I've been up and going pretty much like normal. After something like shopping or laundry, which requires lugging up to 20 pounds up and down flights of stairs, I have to sit down and relax the back. But in five minutes' time, I'm back up and pain free. I still do get discomfort later at night, but that's just tired muscles. When I start walking with a stoop, I know it's time to hit the sack and rest the back.
Halloween was non-eventful. That's the price you pay for living in a gated building. I still buy a sack of candy and put it in the popcorn bowl (just like we did when I was a kid), but there were no trick-or-treaters. I stayed in and watched "American Horror Story: Freak Show" on FX. A very disturbing show, but perfect for Halloween. And you won't see Jessica Lange in a more twisted role. It's definitely not for the young.
So today I did a load of laundry, went shopping, swept the patio and plan to actually cook a dinner for myself (I've been doing eggs and toast or sandwiches up to this point: tonight I'm attempting to make a turkey meatloaf). Standing in the kitchen cooking is very uncomfortable, as the counters are just low enough to make me bend slightly while working.
Standing and working are the bellwether of how my back is doing. Two weeks ago I couldn't stand for two minutes without crumbling into a chair for relief. Last night I stood in the kitchen for almost 15 minutes and got back to the living room without cramping up, stooping over or leaning on stuff. I have decided that tomorrow I'm going to start the daily walk. Nothing else loosens things up like walking.
The directory is hitting its stride, and I finally got the spreadsheets I needed to start actually laying it out, page by page. Paul (chamber CEO) really seems to like the layout this year, and I think it will be really nice once I get everything in place. Between editorial copy, photos and ads, piecing together an 88-page book can be daunting. But I like puzzles.
And another client, Electric Power Group, is putting together the copy for its second newsletter, so that's even more work for me. And since the template for the job was designed last time around, this one should be a slam dunk.
It's so nice to simply react to my surroundings. When the bed sheets need changing, I change them. When the cat needs playing with, I play. This is really the first day I could say that without the caveat of "if the back's okay."
But the biggest relief is that, for the most part, the referred nerve pain down the legs is gone, although it does twinge for a minute or two when I lie down flat in bed. And when I wake up in the morning, I still think "what will happen when I stand up," but it's usually a pleasant surprise at how limber I am after six or eight hours of sleep.
So now I can start doing all those little "outside" chores, like getting a hair cut, doing some clothes shopping, and planning a daily walk without worrying about the back seizing up halfway through. According to my chiropractor, this occurred because of overactivity followed by inactivity. Like my late friend Robert Lee Norton said, "Just keep moving."
When I was working outside the house, I got the daily exercise of commuting on the train to work. When Steve was alive, we were active and would go out and do things together. But since he died, I really haven't been doing much in the way of activity.
My agoraphobia puts the brakes on simply going out for a stroll. Until now, that is. I can override it when there's a good reason. Like pushing through the morning back discomfort, I can push through the anxiety that keeps me from going outside when there is a good reason, like being able to walk. And going up and down the stairs in my house is not enough to be called exercise; that's about all I was doing before this all occurred. One thing is for certain: now I'm going to do everything I can to avoid this from happening again. I really don't need to be an old man until I have to.
Today at the store, the checkout lady (who knows me) gave me a senior discount. She was nice enough not to ask if I needed help out to the car, though. I still have five years until I can retire, and the idea is not palatable to me. I want to keep working, albeit part time, as long as I can.
I have calls out to Regina (the cleaning ladies) and Triple Screens to get the last of the work done on the house before it goes on the market. I know there's going to be one more round of handyman type stuff (carbon monoxide detectors installed, water heater strapped to the wall, etc.) before the city signs off on the house going up for sale.
But for the present, I relax. And now, on to the meatloaf!
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