Winding In The Sheets

You Woke Me For This?

I got up this morning before the 9 o clock alarm, though not by much. Getting up early doesn't do me much good because then it seems like my bones are EVEN MORE creaky that they are on other days. I move so slowly that it still takes me an hour or 90 minutes to be standing, showered, fully clothed, all my pills counted out into the day's compartments, hair combed, bladder relieved, et al. I used to jump out of bed directly into my clothes and hit the door (grumpy, I admit) with no waste of breath. Now I'm a mass of aches and pains, cursing man and God and every inanimate object I come in contact with! I mean, every variation of "god damn", vulgar and violent. It's as if it's the fuel that propels me or the "wind beneath my wings" (that's a funny one). Sometimes the worst experience of the day is to drop the tiny yellow Glipizide pill onto the carpet--it invariably bounces it's tiny self under the dresser where I can't see it. I have to crawl (there is no "get") down on all fours to have any chance of seeing it and retrieving it, and I curse God all the way. I guess it's my way of cursing myself and all of existence, but I address it to God. I curse a little extra if I never find the pill! I wish they wouldn't put those pills in the "push-out" cards like that because it's all I can do to push them out (i use a nickel) AND maintain a sense of where the pill is on the other side of the card! It may or may not fall into my other hand! Fuck those creeps who evidently think this is "childproofing". I'm tempted to hire some child who's still flexible to open all the medication containers for me. Though I have arthritis, it's not too bad in my fingers, but my neuropathy compensates. My sensation is limited, meaning I greatly favor cowboy shirts with snaps, not stupid buttons. Damn buttons!!! Meanwhile, my legs are doing the same damn crap. I'm creaky and I'm slow and I'm more ornery than I've ever been. You get my drift.