Saturday, December 20, 2008

Attitude, part two


I want to run. I mean, I want to run just for fun. I have not been able to really run for many years now. I used to run just for fun. I used to bike just for fun. I'd like to do that, too. I want to be able to build up enough muscle to walk a mile without stopping. I know a mile seems like a short distance, but I can only do a mile on very good days and I do have to stop and sit a couple of times while I do it. My legs just hurt so badly if I don't. On bad days, well, I'm lucky to get up and down my steps at home. I guess there are "in between" days, but those don't stand out as much as the extremes.

I never know what kind of day it's going to be. I don't seem to have any control over that at all. Yesterday I was lamenting (whining) to myself about that, and that I can't run like I want to. In fact, I had a really good pity party last night. I just needed some cheese to go with my w(h)ine. Then I thought about JT, the young man I mentioned last time. I suspect he'd like to just be able to walk like I can. Ok, Lord, I know you poked me with that one. I'm sure it wasn't coincidence that 1) I worked with him on Thursday and 2) I thought about him during the middle of my w(h)inefest. You ruined a good party, ya know.

No, the Lord isn't on Facebook. Well, He might be. Who am I to say? But my paternal grandmother used to talk about the Lord poking her with things. I know what she means, now. And this was long before the advent of computers, Facebook or any other digital event. She lived in an analog world and declared Neil Armstrong's walk on the moon was done in Hollywood on a stage. I was all of 11, then, and remember her twinkle when she said it. I'm not sure if she was teasing or for real.

Back to the "festivities". I was cuddled down in the middle of my bed with the electric blanket full blast because I couldn't get warm and had those deep shivers that often indicate oncoming traffic...I mean adrenal insufficiency. The house was at a nice 76 degrees, but my body insisted it was below freezing. That's when the party started. My cats joined me because they love the warmth of the electric blanket and they think I go to bed just to play with them. I did have a laptop with me in the middle of us all, but Rita insisted she had to lay on it, so I had to move it. Annie just played with my toes through the covers. She thinks they are there for the sole purpose of entertaining her. They wanted to liven up the party and just weren't very supportive of my tantrum.

A muscle cramp/spasm in my left leg forced me up. I limped into the kitchen to get my potassium and some water. It and some magnesium did the trick, but ouch... Wonder if that was another poke? The two little buggers followed me indignantly. How dare I mess up their warm spot?

It wasn't long before I made it back to my cocoon and fell asleep with one fur buddy nestled in next to my feet and another one in the curve of my back. She lives dangerously, but never seems to worry. I had to get up at the prescribed early morning time just to take my meds, but an hour later went back to bed and slept 'til noon. Wow. I haven't done that in a while.

I eventually did get a shower and head out for much needed groceries, a manicure, and some dinner. Those are in order of necessity and not by when accomplished. Actually, I had dinner first at a local place. Chicken livers with onion and turnip greens. I had perused my cabinets and refrigerator earlier to find some old sugar-free ice cream, half a jar of peanut butter, and a can of tuna. Oh, and some frozen veggies. It wasn't appetizing. My cats voted for the tuna but I nixed that. I wouldn't get any.

After the manicure and dinner....wait, I left out the most important part...STARBUCKS COFFEE!! After the coffee (which I took into the manicure place), manicure, and half-eaten dinner I debated on where to get groceries. I really wanted to go to a local supermarket which has the best produce, but I needed things like batteries, paper towels, cables of various sorts, a new LCD TV (oh wait...wishful thinking), and other non-grocery items. I absolutely hate going to Wal*mart just about any day, but especially on Saturday, and especially on the Saturday before Christmas. In fact, I got tickled earlier at Dr. Rob's tweet: "Got back from Christmas Shopping. Ugh. At Wal-Mart I had shopped for 30 min and then someone stole my cart. I walked out." I knew what I was in for if I went there.

I went there. The good Lord shoulda poked me before I did THAT. What was I thinking? A fine, misty-almost-snow rain was falling and I was glad I was in my trusty sneakers my daughters gave me for my birthday. I did pretty good for a Cushie with a pity party hangover. I parked at the first place I saw, and walked to the store in record time for me. So what if the little old lady parked next to me made it in before I did. She's been training longer than I have.

There were buggies at the door, and there seemed to be plenty. Dr. Rob, I thought of you and realized I needed to be diligent. I didn't want to go through the battle to come out without the loot. I don't know about the rest of you, but my local wally world has remodeled and I can't find anything. Neither could half the folks in there. One sweet lady and I kept running into each other in the store.

"Where's the perfume", she asked.
"Near the cosmetics, I think", I replied.
"Where are the cosmetics?"
"Uh...hmmm...well...."

I wasn't much help. I did find the electronics with no problem and spent way too long in there. I headed to a few other spots for various stocking stuffers I needed, and then to the food section. Just about the time I got a buggy half full of food, I got dizzy and nauseous. RUH-ROH... The last time I did that in a grocery store I made a mess in aisle nine. I didn't want to embarrass myself like that again. But instead of upchucking, I realized my stomach was going to rebel in other ways. OH OH....

Have you ever seen a short, round woman go as fast as possible pushing a buggy? (Dr. Rob, I wasn't about to let go of my buggy!) Well, you never pray for something you don't want the Lord to answer. I ran. Not a pretty run. Not even a quick run. But I ran for the closest bathroom. And I found it.

I found it barricaded with a sign: "Closed for cleaning" and something about other restrooms in the front of the store. OMG. I was in that clenched cheek state by now that doesn't allow running. You know what I mean. Not the cheeks on the face. So off I went, no longer running. Waddling, shuffling....Shaddle? Wuffle? Yeah, I was doing that while pushing my buggy. (I didn't let go, Dr. Rob!) And I made it. But what to do with my buggy?

I can't let go of my buggy!!! NO!!

I let go of my buggy. I had no choice. Oh, Dr. Rob...I was torn.

You know the drill, ladies. You go in, make sure there is paper in the stall that you choose, hang your coat and purse on the back of the door, cover the toilet seat with paper, and then FINALLY crouch. I don't remember closing the door, hanging the coat, and I didn't have time to cover the seat. I won't go into details, but I was so sick. And praying no one else would come in.

No such luck. In came a mommy with her little boy.

"Ewwwwwwww, mommy, what's that smell?"
"Shhhhhhhhh...use the bathroom."
"Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwww, mommy, it stinks in here."
"Shhhhhhhhhhhhh....use the bathroom!!!"
"But mommy..."
"Use the bathroom NOW!"

Needless to say I didn't come out until they left. I was wishing I'd found the perfume aisle by this time. And I just knew my buggy was going to be gone. I washed my hands and made my exit, looking left and right to make sure no little boys with mommies were close by. I knew they'd recognize the shoes.

My buggy was still there! I contemplated checking out with what I had and leaving, but I also couldn't bear the thought of making another Wal*mart run. I stayed and finished, but had to sit down once on the bench that's halfway up the food section. I know they put that there just for me.

Finally I made it to the checkout line. I was the 5th person back. And I got my poke. In front of me was the kindest lady who had her son with her. He was wheelchair bound, couldn't talk, but he could sign. I didn't ask what was wrong and she didn't offer. However, we talked and I helped her unload her buggy while she helped him navigate to the front of the register area. She was so sweet and full of Christmas spirit that I felt ashamed again for my whiny attitude the previous evening. And he was laughing and signing to her as she talked to him. He obviously could hear, but not talk.

They wished me a blessed and Merry Christmas as they left. I had tears. So did the lady at the register. Sometimes angels come in human form. And sometimes they come in odd places. Even Wal*mart.

So, tonight I ran*. And I was poked. And I didn't lose my buggy.


*ran (past tense of "run"...and for me it means moving faster than usual. It may not look like running to you.)

4 comments:

  1. Well, I am glad I wasn't the "Running Man." I was so mad when they stole my cart that I would have probably just let loose.

    I was only about 10 feet from the cart and it had stupid stocking-stuffers and some pet toys. I would have hit the person if I found them.

    It reminds me of when I was stuck in the old Newark (NJ) airport due to snow. A woman turned to me and said: "if this isn't Hell, I don't know what is." Wal-Mart on the Saturday before Christmas is one of the circles of Hell.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Yes, it may be a circle of hell, but I did find an angel or two in there. No, wait...they found me. I certainly wasn't looking for them.

    Merry Christmas, Rob. Thanks for being a good sport.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Well, unless the first bathroom door was locked, I'd have gone in anyway!

    ReplyDelete
  4. I've been thinking about this post quite a bit, Robin. Well written and what is it with running? I used to and still find myself longing to run, too. I used to hate training to run at the beginning of soccer season when I was a teenager, lol.

    I had to think long and hard about it: I did run, just one time during this extended stay in illness-land. My youngest was two years old and discovered how to unlock the deadbolt on the front door and made it halfway down the block before I realized she'd escaped. *faint*

    ReplyDelete

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