When Nature Calls

So I am superstitious.  Not about everything, but about somethings.  I am superstitous about my birthday.  I have always felt that however my birthday plays out is a precursor for the year’s events.  If it is a good day, it will be a good year.  If it is boring, nothing extraordinary will happen that year.  As an example, when I was twelve, I had a fever on my birthday, a horrible birthday.  That May, I didn’t make the cheerleading squad.  Coincidence?  I think not!

This birthday, however, I refuse to believe that my health will have any baring on my year.  You see, I threw out my back on New Years Eve, and I am still in quite a bit of pain.  It literally hurts to walk.  Nonetheless, yesterday, we went out for breakfast and I indulged with biscuits and gravy.  We laughed the whole time because Maggie entertained us with cheesy pick up lines:

“Your hand looks heavy, let me hold it for you.”

“Is your name Google because you are exactly what I am looking for.”

God only knows why a thirteen year old girl knows any let alone about a hundred pickup lines.

The day itself was relaxing.  We watched football, I read a magazine, it was complete and utter pleasure.  In the evening, we went to a local watering hole with friends.  It was a good birthday.  I hurt, but I sat a great deal,  and the laughter deterred me from worrying about back pain.

However, this morning my body felt like a cement block.  No, more like the cement blocks in parking lots that are used as bumpers, and last night, a lot of cars took advantage of hitting me.  As much as I hurt, I had to get up.  Nature was calling.

After rolling around and grabbing sheets, the night stand, the bed frame, and a nice shove from Tom, I finally got myself into a sitting position.  I clenched my teeth and stood.  My back did not spasm, but my hips felt sore.  With each step, they throbbed.   Last week, I didn’t think I could ever feel worse, today, I knew better.

It took me a good five minutes to walk down the steps to get to the bathroom, which actually worked out well for me because it allowed for whatever was brewing in my bowels to make its way to wanting to come out.

However, after I went, I had a problem.  I could not find an angle that would allow me to wipe my tushie.  I tried the reach around, but the twist made my back spasm.  I tried to reach in between but because of my hip pain, I couldn’t lean forward enough to reach.  I tried to stand and wipe, but again, twisting made that equally impossible.

I stopped and took a deep breath.  Could this be happening?  I thought about calling for Tom, but then I talked myself out of it.  47 is not the year I rely on someone else to wipe my ass.  47 is not the year I throw in the proverbial towel.  I had a good birthday, and damn it, I wasn’t going to allow going to the bathroom conquer me.

I sat back down.  I took a few deep breaths.  What was I to do?

The bathtub!

Our bathtub is close enough to the toilet that I was able to rest my heels on the edge, hinge forward on my hips, and clean myself the way only I should clean myself.  I wiped three times, not because I was that messy, but because I could!  I used a few extra squares as if to thumb my nose at my body for trying to take me down.

Freedom may be won with amunition.  My freedom was won with Charmin.

 

 

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Birthday Blog

Hi!  I started this blog on my 42nd birthday and committed to writing for one full year.  I wrote more than a year, and then I stopped.  I cannot lie, when I was writing every day, I couldn’t imagine life without it, but when I quit, it seemed impossible to return.

Recently, two former students who secretly found my blog while in my class, tweeted that they missed it, the blog.  I realized that I missed it, too.

Thus, on my 47th birthday (yes, I am not shy–  I am closer to fifty than forty), I have decided to give it a go, once again.

For my first blog in a while, I would like to share my conversation with Carson.

Hannah and Olivia want me to blog.

So blog.

I do miss it.

So blog.

I know, but my back hurts.

So blog from the iPad.

I don’t have anything to say.

Sure you do.

You’re right.  I could talk about my fear of yoga.

Fear of yoga?

Yeah.

What is your fear of yoga?

Farting.

What?

I’m afraid I will get into some pose that’s supposed to open me up, and it will literally, “Open me up.”

Mom!  

The fear is real!  I must admit though,  two of the most euphoric days of my life involve the blog.

Wait.  Two euphoric days?

Yeah.

Involve the blog.

Yeah.

Not Dad or me or Lizzie or Maggie.

Um, well, yeah, those days were euphoric, but they weren’t about me.

Mom, you birthed me.  That definitely was about you.

Yeah.  And you and dad.  And definitely dad. It started with him, hubba hubba!

MOM!

Well, you started it.

I didn’t mean to start that?

Oh you didn’t.  Tequila may have.

MOM!

Sorry.  Anyway, I just meant the blog gave me an accomplishment that was all mine.

What days then?

The day I was Freshly Pressed and my April Fools blog.  I never felt so giddy in my entire life.  Each time, I felt like I had accomplished something.  Really accomplished something.

So write.

Maybe.  I think I will shower first.

Oh good God, you are a procrastinator.

No. I am not.  I am not procrastinating.  I am blogging.  To anyone who reads, thank you!  I will try to make you laugh more than I make you cry.  God Bless!

 

An Open Letter to God

Dear God,

I know I am not the best Catholic;  I do not attend mass regularly.  However, I do try to always live a Christian life.  I live to help others, share my talents, and never bring harm to anyone.  Also, when I do think to pray, I always try to be mindful that my family and I have our health and we share a great deal of love, so I am blessed.  I pray for the less fortunate and those in need.  I pray for an end of violence and oppression and for worldwide compassion and empathy.

However, today God, I am not only praying for others.  I am asking for myself.

Please, please allow the Cleveland Cavs to bring home the NBA Trophy.  I want nothing more than to feel elation and pride to be a Cleveland fan.  This city, these people need this win, too.  We are a community of people who care deeply for each other, and a win will signify that the love and friendship we feel for our fellow man is really alive.  It will restore a sense of pride, and when people feel good about their community, love and friendship and good will to all men is bound to be the attitude!

So fellow Cavs fans, please say this prayer aloud:

Dear God,

Thank you for all of the blessings in my life.  Thank you for the people who surround me.  However, God, in less than an hour please give the Cavs the strength, the stamina, and the will power to win Game 7.  It will mean the world to me.  Thank you from the bottom of my heart.  Amen

God bless the Cavs, the city of Cleveland, and all men and women who are proudly wearing wine and gold today.

Amen!