Had a physical last week.
That is one thing I am pretty good about. Get checked out every year; been doing it for a long time.
That way I can keep track of how my health is deteriorating. That's how I know I gotta deal with high blood pressure, high cholesterol, asthma, and acid reflux.
Poppin' the pills, baby - every morning. But, what the hell - they are doing the trick and I have not experienced any nasty side effects. And the prescriptions I take have not been increased for years, so at least I am maintaining.
Which is good. Helping me hang around a little longer to drive Carol crazy and perfect methods of embarrassing my sons.
My right hip has been paining me for about a year and a half now. Typically a low level, annoying kind of pain. But it does spike every once in a while to a level that makes me grimace. And limp.
Mentioned it to Dr. Feelgood at last year's physical. She was going to set up an x-ray to check it out, but that was also the physical that led to the whole cancer diagnosis, so the x-ray got lost in the shuffle.
I brought it up again last week because it is a lot more annoying now. Got x-rayed that day; she called me later that day to tell me my hip was fractured.
What? Fucking fractured? How the hell did that happen?
I should have been suspicious when the x-ray technician asked me, while he was checking the x-rays to make sure they came out all right - "Have you had an accident or some kind of trauma to the hip?"
I didn't even think about it because I have been assuming it is arthritis or some other old person type thang.
Now, I did fall twice this winter in my fucking skating rink of a driveway, BUT I have been experiencing pain in the hip for a year before that. So who the hell knows what is going on.
So Dr. Feelgood wants me to get a cane or a crutch until this thing gets dealt with. Which of course I am not doing. I've been walking around on the goddamn thing for a year and a half; I don't think it is suddenly gonna snap now.
Except it does change the mind set.
Before, I dismissed it as arthritis. When you get old enough you deal with pain every day. I have learned to ignore it.
But now, every time I get a twinge or the pain spikes, I get a little worried. And of course the responsible voice in my head is saying "Get a goddamn cane, idiot." And, you know, if I do get a cane it is going to be one funky motherfucker.
So now I wait. I will be scheduled for an MRI to assess the extent of the damage and I have to see an orthopedic dude to figure out what comes next.
But of course the 4th of July holiday has put everything on hold.
In addition, Dr. Feelgood told me to stop exercising. That fucking sucks. Another thing I do religiously is ride an exercise bike, and she knows this. I average four days a week; sometimes I hit five on a good week.
I am already morbidly obese.
Carol and I stole a shopping cart from Shaw's just to get me out of the house. Shaw's sucks; we would never steal a shopping cart from Market Basket.
The way we work it is I roll off my recliner onto the floor, where Carol has the shopping cart tipped over on its side. I roll forcefully into the cart so it begins to tip upright; Carol guides it the rest of the way. She then wheels me out of the house and tips me into her trunk.
It all works just fine.
Anyway, I will have to live on carrots and water until this thing gets figured out, so I don't begin to resemble Jabba The Hut's long lost brother.
How does a fractured hip heal? I am probably going to have to use a cane or a crutch, keep the weight off, until I am whole again.
I am not happy about this.
But what the fuck - at a certain age you gotta roll with the punches as your body begins to betray you.
Another chapter, baby - another chapter.