My breasts were never very large, so although I've nursed two children, they're still looking okay. Certainly they're not as perky as they once were, but my nipples still point straight ahead. That's something.
I have no gray hair. My father is 65 and has only recently begun to gray. My grandfather was nearly 90 when he passed away two years ago, and still had more brown than gray. For that I can forgive him the dark circles.
I have an...ample bottom. I've always thought it was too large, even when I was a size 2. Happily, though it's a little more cottage cheesy than I would like, it has stayed put instead of melting down the backs of my thighs.
The chin hairs are annoying, but I can mow, wax or pluck those suckers. The fine lines around my eyes are becoming more noticeable, a little make-up can usually camoflage them to my satisfaction.
So I'm able to deny the fact that I am 10 months away from 40 most of the time.
Occasionally though, I get a little reminder that the old bod is experiencing some wear and tear. It may be the fact that it takes me 3 days to recover when I overindulge. Or that I can't eat spicy foods too close to bedtime anymore, lest I awake thinking I'm having a heart attack. Or even the fact that my uterus makes a valiant attempt to exsanguinate me once a month.
And such was the case yesterday when I put my back out merely walking down the hall.
I got up from the office chair, took about 4 steps and felt something leggo deep in my spinal column. I swear, I heard a SPROING!!!! sound. An excruciating pain shot through me, severe enough to make me cry out. I staggered, and nearly fell. I paused for a moment, asessing my situation, and found that I could not straighten up.
For the last 30 hours or so, I have been completely supine. I can't walk and I can't tolerate any position that compresses my spine even a little. I haven't slept and my head aches from lying down so long.
Ice and Advil seem to be doing little. I have to just wait. Though it's better today than it was yesterday, I'm still not remotely functional.
Ten years ago, I would not have suffered such an injury. Ten years ago, I could suffer through anything and still care for my small children through sheer indomitable will and mind over matter.
Now? I've turned into a big wuss. I no longer suffer through migraines and head colds and back injuries with cheerful determination. Hell no. I take to my bed and whine.
And my whining has now extended to you, my dear readers, who came here today, no doubt expecting something a little more interesting and palatable than one aging Mom type having a big ole pity party for herself.
I guess that's yet another indication that I am growing old; the need to catalog my physical complaints for anyone who will listen.
I feel betrayed by my own body. It once seemed so strong! It grew, birthed and nourished children.
And now? It's seems little more than an aching heap of aging flesh.
Ah well, I suppose that's just my injury talking. Being out of commission makes me grumpy. Reminders of my mortality make me grumpy.
I'll try to do something uplifting tomorrow.