ENFORCED REST, A GODSEND OR A CURSE?

 I have hurt my knee, strained a ligament or something and have to rest for anything up to three weeks. It's hell! So I am spending more time on my laptop. Time to be philosophical and maudlin I suppose. I have been thinking a lot about growing old because of this. My knee has literally had me hobbling around and for the first time in years I have to lean on someone, namely my husband. We have been through a bit of a testing process because of this, in the beginning, refusing to rest, thus him believing that I wasn't so bad. Me believing I wasn't so bad either but with my secret martyr whispering in my ear. You know the kind of thing the 'poor me' syndrome. Waiting for him to say 'let me do that love' or 'should you be doing that dear?' Sadly it doesn't happen at first mainly because I rarely ask for help therefore I don't get it when I really need it. However I am irritated by my own resentment that I generally believe I anticipate his physical needs if and when he is ill. Now after two weeks that horrible part of me is creeping back in. Why doesn't he think I might be a bit fed-up and need to be taken out somewhere, even for a coffee in the local café. He doesn't because he is waiting for me to say what I want. Is it me?  Men are very logical creatures on the whole and his belief is that I just have to sit this out and therefore shouldn't need anything because 'it's how it is'. 'It's just a case of rest and that means grin and bear it. I am obviously stir crazy because I feel irritable and angry grrrr!!!

It has been a learning curve to be sure, there are so many things one takes for granted, even walking down the hall to the loo was a hazard for the first couple of days and hubby had to push me in the office chair leaving me to scrabble my way in and out of my ablutions. Joy Oh Joy! Not being able to take the dog for a walk has been the most frustrating.  Cooking dinner at night something we usually do together, well, he peels the spuds and lays the table while I do the rest normally. I am having to instruct him on how to cook certain things. His repertoire of egg and chips or pasty and chips a bit limited or a ready made curry his speciality. Not good for someone who is starved of exercise and needing comfort food and definitely no more padding on the hips.

Growing old, and I am, is something to be feared or welcomed as it slowly engulfs me. Seeing someone I don't recognise in the mirror, walking a bit unsteadily on occasion and that was before the knee issue. Failing to remember things unless they are written down and then forgetting where I wrote them down. Frightening!
Who wants to grow old? However it's inevitable and we hear the old cliché 'it comes to us all'. Do we fear it because it brings us nearer to death or just that we become incapacitated in so many ways.
I suppose in the words of Maurice Chevalier 'old age isn't so bad when you consider the alternative' is something to ponder.
 

Age creeps up, a cliché I know but sadly it is true, as a young woman I would never have considered how it felt to be getting old and indeed why should I? Although I watched my mother age and she was ninety-four when she died as was her mother before her. I still could not imagine myself getting there. I have been blinkered with the unconscious philosophy of ‘It won’t happen to me’ apologies for yet another cliché. Aging is full of them. Past it, over the hill, doddering, what can you expect when you’re getting old, losing your marbles, deaf as a post and so on?

None of that has happened yet thank God! I can be thankful that at nearly 70 it's just my knee.