Given that I've been feeling fairly well of late, I decided yesterday to drive out to Bali Mall Galeria. It's a fair distance from my home in Sanur, in the estimation of the elderly anyway, and it's something that I've not attempted in … how long? … a year and a half? Two years? But it's also something that I used to do in years past as a matter of course, once a week, to shop at the Hypermart and so on--no big deal. (In those times there were no large supermarkets in or near Sanur, except for Hardy's, and that's another story altogether).
Upon arriving at the mall, I no longer felt 'fairly well'. My shoulders ached, my neck ached, and, once I started walking through the mall, my legs ached. My plan was to shop at the Hypermart, wanting in particular to purchase a few pairs of reasonably priced socks. Nonetheless, I stopped first at the Gramedia bookstore and then strolled down to Starbucks for a coffee.
Upon finishing my coffee, I returned to the main mall. There are three steps one must mount for entry to the mall from the sort of recessed side lane where the Starbucks is located. On the second step, my right leg decided that it was against this idea. Not a great surprise, really. My right leg fairly often decides that it is against the idea of walking normally. This is called "foot drop" and is a fairly common symptom in MS.
What was a surprise though was that I actually fell, I mean all the way down, full out, a nosedive, boom. My cell phone has skittered some distance across the tiles, my shoulder bag is around my neck like a noose, my glasses are askew. Instantly, five people, leaving behind grocery carts, shopping bags, babies, rush over to help me up. Nor is it easy, once down, to get up again. It takes some effort, some arranging of limbs. And how embarrassing this all is!
Old people fall differently than young people. Young people pop up again, laugh sheepishly, shrug off assistance. Old people just lie there, momentarily stunned. They struggle to their feet, lifted by multiple witnesses. They don't bounce. They hit the ground like a stone. Thump. And they feel the impact as they try to resume functioning. I mean, somehow the body stops as it hits the floor or the street or the dirt, but the skeleton keeps going, rattling within the frame, crunching against itself. I had regained my feet, yes, but my shoulder ached, my head ached, my side ached, and, strangely, my left testicle ached. Go figure.
So by the time I reach the Hypermart, I have lost interest in my original mission. What was so important about socks when I could have just sat at home, barefoot in my chair? Instead, I must now take my aching shoulder and neck and side and testicle and drive them all the way back home.
Why trust one's body to accomplish anything anymore?
Upon arriving at the mall, I no longer felt 'fairly well'. My shoulders ached, my neck ached, and, once I started walking through the mall, my legs ached. My plan was to shop at the Hypermart, wanting in particular to purchase a few pairs of reasonably priced socks. Nonetheless, I stopped first at the Gramedia bookstore and then strolled down to Starbucks for a coffee.
Upon finishing my coffee, I returned to the main mall. There are three steps one must mount for entry to the mall from the sort of recessed side lane where the Starbucks is located. On the second step, my right leg decided that it was against this idea. Not a great surprise, really. My right leg fairly often decides that it is against the idea of walking normally. This is called "foot drop" and is a fairly common symptom in MS.
What was a surprise though was that I actually fell, I mean all the way down, full out, a nosedive, boom. My cell phone has skittered some distance across the tiles, my shoulder bag is around my neck like a noose, my glasses are askew. Instantly, five people, leaving behind grocery carts, shopping bags, babies, rush over to help me up. Nor is it easy, once down, to get up again. It takes some effort, some arranging of limbs. And how embarrassing this all is!
Old people fall differently than young people. Young people pop up again, laugh sheepishly, shrug off assistance. Old people just lie there, momentarily stunned. They struggle to their feet, lifted by multiple witnesses. They don't bounce. They hit the ground like a stone. Thump. And they feel the impact as they try to resume functioning. I mean, somehow the body stops as it hits the floor or the street or the dirt, but the skeleton keeps going, rattling within the frame, crunching against itself. I had regained my feet, yes, but my shoulder ached, my head ached, my side ached, and, strangely, my left testicle ached. Go figure.
So by the time I reach the Hypermart, I have lost interest in my original mission. What was so important about socks when I could have just sat at home, barefoot in my chair? Instead, I must now take my aching shoulder and neck and side and testicle and drive them all the way back home.
Why trust one's body to accomplish anything anymore?
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