Wednesday, July 9, 2008 11:09 PM CDT
COLUMN: Who knew that putting on underwear could be such a moment of triumph?
By PENNY WEAVER, Night news editor
pweaver@jg-tc.com
As God is my witness, I shall never take my mobility for granted again.
Okay, sure, I borrowed that line from Scarlett O’Hara — with a few tweaks — but I say that with a lot more meaning and believability than could be ascribed to that character.
I really don’t think I usually take my overall good health for granted, but it’s easy to get complacent until something goes wrong.
I woke up last Friday — Independence Day, ironically enough — with pain in my lower back making it starkly clear to me that I wouldn’t have an easy time getting up and about. To make matters particularly vexing, I didn’t even do anything that I know of to cause my back to go out.
Nope. I didn’t trip climbing out of a hot tub. I didn’t pull a muscle dancing the tango. I didn’t even feel something give way when I leaned this way or that to kiss someone.
Alas, I just woke up with back pain. This has happened to me before, for unknown reasons — just one of those things. It’s been worse this time, but I don’t know of any specific cause.
First I had to get out of bed. I started to turn with the thought of swinging my legs over the side — spasms of pain ensued. Okey dokey — “Let’s try something else,” I thought.
I managed to roll out of bed, then to gingerly, painfully stand up almost straight. That’s progress. I hobbled to the bathroom, took much longer than usual to take care of that part of my a.m. routine, and set out to get dressed.
Well! Many times I’ll put on casual around-the-house clothes, then change later before I go anywhere. I didn’t have that much gumption that day. I was to go to lunch with friends at 1 p.m., so I endeavored to only have to slip out of pajamas and into decent clothes once.
Now this, of course, was not so funny at the time, but it seems humorous now. Then, I was emitting exclamations of pain through gritted teeth, and that does make it kind of hard to laugh.
I had little trouble shedding shorts and T-shirt — my usual nightwear — but donning underpants posed an interesting challenge.
I couldn’t bend over. I couldn’t twist to one side or another. I couldn’t bend at the knees and crouch down.
So I dropped my underwear on the floor and slipped my right foot through one side. Out of habit, I started to lean down to use my hands to pull them up, and I immediately was reminded why I was going through these a.m. calisthenics. Ouch.
I rested a hand on the bed mattress for something to lean on first, but it gave way far too much, so I switched to the bed post for more solid support. Then I slipped my left toe through that side of my underwear. How to pull them up?
I had to get creative. I used my feet and shins to work each side up far enough so I could reach without bending and pull the darn things in place with my hands. I have no doubt that if some poor unfortunate soul had been witness to these ridiculous gymnastics, he or she would have been reduced to a belly-aching fit of laughter.
It wasn’t much easier with my shorts, but finally I got everything in place and was fit to be seen by society at large.
I didn’t even try to put on shoes and socks; sandals that slip right on became my new best friends.
Next, I gathered up a cane, ibuprofen and a heating pad. I know, at 37, you might not expect me to have a cane or other such things around the house, but I have a couple of wooden canes that my dad had because I like the wood; I think that’s why he had them too. You never know when something like that might come in handy, as I discovered.
I hobbled around the house carefully. I managed to get set with the heating pad and, not ashamed to use the cane, settle flat on my back on the couch with the heat directed to the small of my back.
That’s how I spent most of Independence Day — quite the opposite of independent. I really feel for people who deal with some kind of physical limitation like this every day. I’ve always thought I could empathize, but even more so when I have to put up with such things myself.
I’m not as patient as I should be. Since I started working out and eating more healthy, I just can’t lay around for hours and watch TV or read. After a couple of hours, I get antsy and I want to be up doing things.
Well. This was a lesson in patience. I decided I could lay around at my mom’s house as well as at home, so Saturday I went over so I could at least visit with her and my sister and her family. It was weird hanging out with my nieces and nephew without them climbing on me like a big human jungle gym.
I did read them some stories, and they were quite accommodating, gathering at the end of the couch where I lay prone with my trusty heating pad.
Truly, my hat’s off to all the people who are physically limited every single day and never complain but just go on about their business and do what they can at the pace their body will allow them. Young or old, y’all are better people than I am.
Luckily, my back is getting better. I’m proud to say it’s now quite uneventful at my house when I go to put on underwear. That, thankfully, is as it should be.
I’m still hobbling a bit and am afraid to move too fast, but I did take a walk Wednesday and no spasms of pain ensued. I take that as a good sign.
Most of the improvements are silent victories, however. I don’t really think my co-workers would appreciate my daily exclamation of “Hey guys! I got my underwear on today in 2.5 seconds — all by myself!!”
Then again, since they know me, they just might not be surprised at all.
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cd wrote on Jul 10, 2008 12:45 PM:
I rested a hand on the bed mattress for something to lean on first, but it gave way far too much, so I switched to the bed post for more solid support. Then I slipped my left toe through that side of my underwear. How to pull them up?
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That's way too much information, Penny!
That would be the case even if someone else wrote the article. "