To be honest, I"m ready for a "Do Over". After three months of nursing the tendinitis in my left shoulder back to "normal" using my doctor approved method of ice, heat and Advil, less than a week before Christmas I aggravated the hell out of it.
I'm the first one to admit that I'm a MUCH better caretaker than patient. It's one of the "man" genes I have which overwhelms my X chromosomes. (Meaning I believe "sick" should be over in 48 hours. I also lack the girl gene for shopping, I hate it...especially for shoes).
This time I insulted that poor muscle so much, it left me grinding my teeth before doing the girly thing of simply bursting in tears. That was in the car, on Christmas Day, as we were headed into town for family stuff. I could barely tolerate moving and 25 miles in a car was torture. I didn't make it 3 miles before Hubby stopped the car and said, "What do you want to do?"
"Go home," came this meek little voice out of me as another round of that never ending, tooth ache of pain took a little stab at me as well. I married a good man. A man who let me cry while telling me it was okay, it wasn't my fault and that he'd simply go drop off gifts. That was the only time I said no. Just because I was in a crappy mood didn't mean it had to spoil his Christmas. When we got home and he dropped me off, I heard him say to the dog, "No, you get out and stay with her. She shouldn't be alone on Christmas."
Odd as it sounds, that might have been the nicest gift I received. I've never spent Christmas Day alone. I was hurting, feeling guilty, trying to get Hubby to promise me he wouldn't speed through the day. I must've looked pitiful...the dog, who believes riding in a car is only second to eating/sleeping, marched over to me and nudged me toward the door. Inside we went and although I spent the majority of my time with either an ice pack or heating pad while trying to think happy thoughts as I was glued to the recliner, the dog never left my side.
This wasn't exactly the vacation I envisioned back in November when I requested the week after Christmas off. Hubby even closed his Shop the same week so we could do whatever we wanted to do....and he could get in a little more deer hunting before the season ended. (Don't judge: we eat venison to the point beef tastes...odd). It has rained or been foggy the entire time. I don't remember what the sun and blue skies look like.
It seems that our choices became trying to watch several days worth of old movies and westerns to recuperate...as the weather was making his hip bother him. But as crappy as the weather seemed, we laughed. And laughter is the best medicine. (Although we both finally ended up with a prescription to aid the anti-inflammation process). We watched corny sci-fi from the 50s and began to say, "I'll bet Ray Harryhausen did the special effects!" (He did all that stop action stuff for years! Ever see the scene with Sinbad fighting a skeleton? Turns out that took 2 YEARS to film). We watched enough of his movies that I felt a little sad to discover he'd died two years ago...but at the age of 92!
Then there were the old westerns that made me feel like a kid again. The sound of spurs jangling against boots strolling down the boardwalk toward a saloon are a sound that just makes me smile. I think it harkens back to a simpler time when the good guy in the white hat won over evil. As a kid I thought Clint Walker was a handsome man...much more than Michael Landon's Little Joe. And that voice! Everyone looks big to me from down here at 5'1" but to find out he's 6'6" was a shock. Then again, that deep voice comes from the bottom of his boots. I was pleasantly surprised to discover he's 88 and still appears at Western fan conventions.
We watched a few "Twilight Zone" episodes, laughing at how many famous actors got their start...including Leonard Nimoy and Robert Redford. I even watched a couple of episodes of "Barney Miller", a police comedy (with a moral to at least one of the stories) that my Dad and I use to watch together. It's amazing what you can remember...character names popped into my head so fast it explains why there's no room for math left in my brain.
So while I try to be patient and wait for the medication we got yesterday to kick in, I'm working to remind myself that a new year offers new opportunities. As silly as it sounds, in those final 10 seconds of countdown toward the new year, I feel...hopeful. The little girl in me whispers that ANYTHING is possible. And I truly believe it is...at least for those 10 seconds.
The trick is to make those 10 seconds be the start of the next 365 days. I don't do Resolutions...I make To Do Lists that have a chance of being accomplished. I want just enough of a challenge to try harder without setting myself up to fail. The world is an odd place at times, but it keeps on turning. If the world marches on, so shall I. Someone noted today that it's a Leap Year...and there are so many possibilities we might leap toward.
And who knows, maybe I'll run into Clint Walker somewhere along the way.