Since collapsing a couple of months ago, I’m much more aware of the daily reminders that I really am 74 years old. About the only change doctors recommended after my bout with atrial fibrillation was to start taking a baby aspirin a day.
That has proved to be easier said than done. Twice this week I’ve dropped the aspirin before it got to my mouth. One morning it fell in the sink, settling in the basket over the drain. The sink was clean, the pill looked the same, so I took it. A day later, the same scenario. Almost. This time the aspirin landed on the rug in front of the sink. Although the rug certainly wasn’t as clean as the sink, the pill looked okay and, yes, I popped it down the hatch. (Why these little white devils can’t be packaged inside something bigger, say M&M's, escapes me.)
At breakfast the morning the pill fell on the rug, a piece of toast slipped from my hand and landed jelly-side down on the table. While that was annoying, I was glad about one thing - the jelly missed my newspaper, inches away from the landing zone. Wiping jelly off a table and place mat is a lot easier than getting it off a newspaper.
There have been other signs of fading agility in the past year. I drop my house keys a lot, and I occasionally wobble when I get up from a chair after sitting for a long spell. Part of this unsteadiness may be the result of bursitis in my right hip. A shot of cortisone and two bottles of pills (not taken all at once) didn’t do the trick and now I’m trying therapy three times a week.
If you haven’t had bursitis, let me assure you it hurts, and it can make the simplest of things difficult, even getting dressed. A few days ago I sent an email to an old friend in Germany asking if he had experienced anything like this. In the note I said:
“Since you are older than I am, perhaps you can be of some assistance in regard to a problem that has recently arisen with my parts in these parts. Perhaps the sage of Waldtruderingstrasse 78 has experienced similar difficulties and has simple remedies at his disposal that will enlighten those of us on Long Island.
“In the last several months, I have had trouble putting on my underwear. Not the top part, the T-shirt, the bottom part, my briefs. Perhaps it’s the bursitis in my right hip that is responsible for this dilemma. Perhaps those with Canadian hips and legs are just naturally more graceful when transitioning from bare-assed naked to dressed. Lots of “perhapses,” yet I seek guidance and wisdom.
“This morning at the gym is fairly typical of what has been happening at home. After working out – lots of stretching, then some basketball, machines and the bike – I showered, dried off and started to get dressed in a fairly small locker room where there were two or three other guys close by. I got my briefs from my gym bag and put my right leg in first as I usually do. No problem, no fumbling around. Done. I then tried to put the other foot in the other leg of my shorts. This would be my left leg in the left hole of the underwear. My foot got caught in the underwear about half way down the leg hole. I tried to push my foot through, but it wouldn’t go. Standing on my right foot, I put the left foot lightly on the floor and tried to pull, tug or lug upward, but no dice. The left side of the underwear wouldn’t budge from the wet floor.
“While this display of ineptitude was going on I wondered whether the attendant or any of the other guys in the locker room were aware of my predicament, my seemingly eternal awkwardness. It was, after all, taking lmc one hell of a long time to get his underwear on. I renewed the attack on the left side of the underwear, adopting a new tactic. I took off the clunky shower shoes I was wearing. This meant I now had my bare feet on a wet floor, something I try to avoid. I did more fumbling and struggling with no success. Again, the left side ended up on the wet floor with my left foot snagged in the cloth, and once more I wondered about the number of spectators watching this spectacle. On the third or fourth try I succeeded, driving my left foot through the left hole of my underwear. Finally. Putting my T-shirt on was quick and very unremarkable.
“I’m guessing that if I had failed one more time to get into my briefs I would have been reduced to sitting on a bench, a wet bench no doubt, to achieve this goal.
“Should you have had similar embarrassments, I would much appreciate your secrets or suggestions for overcoming them. I thank you.
“Cheers,
“lmc
“P.S. Before I finished this email, I went downstairs for lunch where, waiting for me on the dining room table, were four new pairs of briefs. Irene had been shopping and noticed a sale on underwear. These briefs appear to be slightly longer than the ones I have on now, meaning, I would venture, even more adventures in getting dressed in the days ahead and thus making your quick response even more imperative.”
When I turned on my laptop the following day, a response was waiting. My friend had been “spared this problem” but suggested I start with the left leg instead of the right unless that suggestion was “so simple that it’s stupid.”
A second, more elaborate, email passed on a step-by-step solution from his wife:
“ - cover bench with towel
“ - sit on covered bench
“ - remove left foot from shower shoe
“ – holding foot in air, slide left hole over foot
“ – insert foot back into shoe, holding underwear above wet floor
“ – repeat for right foot
“ – pull underwear up to knees
“ – stand up
“ – pull underwear over bum
“ – retrieve towel”
Sounds easy enough. Now if I can only remember all those steps the next time I’m getting dressed in the locker room.