Today I feel . . . I feel . . . I feel spongy.
So, I’m driving to physical therapy, the sun is out. I have this uneasy feeling and I can’t figure it out. Maybe it’s those warm sunny rays — maybe, no wait, I know the feeling. I’ve felt it before and there is a word for it, and the word is spongy. Yes! But it’s not the sun’s rays that I am absorbing, it’s the bits and pieces of other people’s anxieties floating around in the air. Then again, if I’m feeling it doesn’t that make ’em mine?
And if you are wondering how my torn meniscus is doing — the answer is, “much better, thank you.”
It is Saturday and beautiful out. The sun is shining. I have been recently diagnosed with a torn meniscus. First doctor called me and said, “surgery, you need surgery!” I went for a second opinion and the doctor said, “no surgery, physical therapy . . it will take time . . .”
So there you have it — a new word added to my vocabulary — meniscus. I’ve heard the word before but I never paid attention to it. Now it’s become a major part of my vocabulary.
“Elevator? Escalator? I have a torn meniscus.” “Taxi, just a few blocks please, I have a torn meniscus!” “Aleve, please, my meniscus is hurting.” “Happy hour, sure … just as long as I’m sitting – – I have a torn . . .”
meniscus: A crescent-shaped fibrocartilaginous structure that only partly divides a joint cavity.
torn: Past part of tear
tear: A hole or split in something caused by it having been pulled apart forcefully.
Put it together and what have you got? A big pain in the knee!
Napping, reading, wobbling around — not too much but just enough to fall up the stairs and hurt my other knee (not too much, just a little.) And Drew sleeps. All this crazy activity while Thera prepares dinner.
Tomorrow? What’s happening tomorrow? Probably more of the same. Well, almost. I can already hear the buzzing of Thera’s brain, “So this is what they do on a beautiful sunny weekend day? Not for me, I’ve got fill my tomorrow up and get out of here!!!!
And fill it up she did!
It seems like everyone around me is repeating the same stories over and over again. So many times I want to cut in and say, “Stop, stop, stop, you told me already!” But I don’t — I listen and realize that even though I heard this already I don’t remember how it ends. It’s like watching “Law and Order” over and over again and each time never quite remembering who did it.
As I write this the “Law and Order BINGE-A-THON” is on TV. Yeah, I remember this one. I remember all of them. I remember, I remember, until I don’t. Sometimes I wonder what’s happening to me. Should I be concerned? Is it an age thing? I can’t even remember the title of the book I just read. Should I be concerned? But then I take a step back and realize that I’ve always been like this. Should I be concerned?
The three of us at the table.
Picture this: Three of us sitting at the table. And Thera, says, “I love the part in the book where … blah, blah, blah.” And I’m sitting there nodding my head thinking, “Really? Did we read the same book? How does she remember the scene in such detail. Yes, there was an old guy and a mountain (nod, nod, nod.) All the while Drew is futzing with the music — And he chimes in, “I love this song. She’s great in concert. Remember? We had great seats and the sound was so clean.” (Nod, nod, nod.) Who is this? Was I at this concert? Drew did mention seats . . . click, cick, click goes my brain — great seats? He didn’t mention food. But still, it could be City Winery. (Nod, nod, nod.)
And the book — let me look it up — “The 100-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window,” by Jonas Jonasson recommended by Marcia, marcia, marcia . . . please, stop me if I’m repeating myself.