Tip Toe Through The Tulips

I used to write health (or medical) updates to a set of friends via email, but I haven't kept that up for some time. People drift apart, for one thing. For another, I don't seem so dramatic a subject to me any more. Without getting well, my diseases are made commonplace and unworthy of remark. I take my medication and until the next procedure some mad scientist wants to perform, it is difficult to focus myself on the current state of health sufficiently to have words for it all. I've worn out many of the words, and am sick of myself, so how could my friends not be sick of me? Therefore, I've tapered off, and seldom have much to say. I use the cane more and sometimes wonder if that doesn't make me more dependent--it's a vicious circle, maybe. Even if it does, it insures against me falling to the floor again, an experience one cannot relish! I really only fell (completely) once, but once is all it takes to make me stop trying to "bull" my way through all this feebleness in my head or neuropathy in my feet that contributes to my present state of inattention. Am I "dizzy" or not? I don't know--the word has a tendency to sound comical and therefore I shun it when I can. But the semantics don't really matter much, do they? The only bad thing about the cane these days is that once in a while you have to prop it somewhere for a moment, and when I do that, it is apt to slide askew and fall to the floor! Damnation! I cobbled together some bits of leather I already had lying around and made a sort of "holster" for the cane to hang on the back of my belt, out of the way when I need to employ both hands at once. That works pretty well unless I forget it's there and start taking full steps with it, causing the cane to swing and almost trip me. Nothing's perfect. This method sure isn't.

---