Help… I’ve Fallen and I Can’t Get Up…

23 Aug

I never thought this lady was that convincing… nevermind that she’s barely 60.  Anyway…

I’m not big into new year’s resolutions, but every year I usually have some kind of vague goal.  There has been “The Year of Fitness.”  More than a few times, I’ve celebrated “The Year of the Dollar.”  In my later 20s was “The Year of Pulling Myself Together.”  Perhaps if I got a little more specific, I’d get more done, but that’s neither here nor there.  2012, I’m sure you’re wondering, seems to have been “The Year of Decline.”

Did you think it was going to be “The Year of Miracles” or “The Year of Very Small Clothing” or something like that?  Well, I’m not quite to “miracle” just yet (sorry, Mom), and I’ve definitely got lots of socks that I could wear on my thumbs…

Yeah, apparently “thumb socks” is a thing… for people who need more to do?

My theory, as I begin this 40th week of pregnancy, is that it’s a lot like dying.  Not young, tragic death, but the kind that takes years.  It all starts (if you’re me) with some pretty solid mixed feelings, much like I imagine a 95th birthday might.  I mean, it’s great that you made it so far, but there’s no way things will be going uphill from here.  Miracle of life.  Life sentence.  Mixed feelings.

Next, you get to be somewhat of a picky eater.  I didn’t experience any cravings or aversions or sickness, but I still found myself ordering more bland/comfort things like chicken sandwiches on white.  The last time I had lunch with some old folks, I noticed that even though there was a HUGE BUFFET of every Asian flavor a girl could want, these two were pretty into the pizza and soft serve and donuts.

Then you get a little confused.  I started to pretty compulsively double-check that I’d locked the office when I left at night.  I even drove back once or twice JUST TO BE SURE.  My dear, not-at-all-patronizing husband would make sure 6 or 7 times that I’d done whatever errand it was he had asked me to.  I walked into and out of a lot of rooms without getting anything done, because my memory didn’t make the trip with me.  And I started to forget the names of people who weren’t in my closest circles.

Then came the physical similarities… I am, more or less, a professional amateur athlete.  I move for a living.  I consider it part of my job to be in shape.  So the day I bent over to pick something up that I’d dropped and ROLLED LIKE AN EGG onto the floor was probably the beginning of this whole theory.  And finally, I gave in to the weird, nearly-opaque “ultra sheer” compression knee-highs.  Oh yes, they are as attractive on me as they are on that gentleman you see at the “condo” your grandma lives in.


Then comes the part where you don’t move around as quickly as you once did.  Sitting down is challenging.  Getting back up is worse.  And the middle of the night?  Please.  I’ve found myself lying in bed at 4am, wide awake, having to pee, but not wanting to deal with a) sitting up or 2) my aching feet, hips, and back for the 20-foot commute to the bathroom.

And if it’s the first time you’ve gone through this humbling experience (some of the aforementioned, not-at-all-patronizing husband’s contributions to this include, but are not limited to, “Humpty Dumpty,” “Little Keg,” and mimicking my awkward movements), your body and brain have NO IDEA that this isn’t permanent.  It feels very terminal, and therefore like dying.


I’m going to get one of those little emergency alert bracelets and a cord that I can pull in the bathroom for when I fall down in the tub.  I’ll see if the guy can come out next week, this situation is only getting worse.

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4 Responses to “Help… I’ve Fallen and I Can’t Get Up…”

  1. Marsha 24 August 2012 at 7:13 am #

    You are almost there! Hang on. It does get better, and YOU get better. And that little house guest who never leaves? The day you drive away from the dorm for the first time, you will be left bereft. I promise. My advice? Don’t go dancing. I retired from AM at 3 months, and went to an AM party with two weeks to go, to see my last gown in action, and did a little dancing myself. Got home, went to bed, woke at midnight when my water broke. Wait for Nate to do any more dancing! I am thinking of you Rachel, and holding your hand in my heart.

    • themaladroitwife 24 August 2012 at 11:36 am #

      Thanks Marsha :)

  2. Greta Dershimer 24 August 2012 at 11:08 am #

    Wow. I didn’t realize that getting old would be so bad. I’ll be 81 in one week, and I haven’t declined into most of those symptoms yet, thank goodness. Glad that your decline has a more positive end in sight than the aging equivalent. But the last weeks of pregnancy can be pretty hard to take, as I recall. Hope you’ll be delivering soon. It would be lovely if your baby were born on my birthday, but please don’t delay, just on my account. Hope all goes well…

    • themaladroitwife 24 August 2012 at 11:33 am #

      I don’t think it’s bad until you’re at LEAST 95 :)

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