Spare Ribs Anyone

I hurt my ribs a week ago. I won’t say how or where it happened, but needless to say, I am in excruciating pain. I have never had pain like this. But now I know why God made toes. I said that at the doctor’s office the other day, and the nurse said they’re for balance. I looked at her and said that may be so, but they are also for picking things up off the floor when you can’t bend over.

After getting home from the hospital and being x-rayed, one of the first things that happened was the gauze that had been on me from bleeding (not the ribs) fell onto the kitchen floor. I could barely bend my neck to my chest, let alone bend over to pick it up. I told myself I wasn’t going to cry. I knew there was a way to pick it up – I just had to find it. I’ll just sweep it up, I thought, until I realized that the dustpan didn’t have a long enough handle. I thought about using spaghetti tongs, but they too, weren’t long enough. So I did the next best thing, which I thought was rather ingenious. I took my right foot, and while standing up, I slowly put it behind my left foot and removed my sock. Mission accomplished. I then grabbed onto the kitchen counter, my right leg firmly on the floor, then I took my left leg, moved it over the gauze, and squeezed it with my toes while slowly raising my leg. I got it! That’s quite a feat for a 65-year-old woman with sore ribs and bad knees. Thank God for those Supartz shots that I get in my knee.

Needless to say, this has been quite an experience. I have had to learn to invent new ways to do everyday things, like getting in and out of bed and doing laundry. It’s been extremely challenging and painful. And in trying to do those things, I have pulled other things out of whack, like my shoulders and left hip. I sometimes wish I was a car and could go to a body shop and get some new parts installed.

A couple of days ago, I had to sneeze, and I never sneeze just once. I usually sneeze about 10 -12 times in a row. Sometimes, it’s even a baker’s dozen. I am a baker’s daughter, after all. Talk about pain. As that first sneeze happened, I could have cried. I then felt that second sneeze coming, so I grabbed my ribs with my left hand while squeezing my nose with my right hand, trying to prevent that next sneeze. That started what I call a series of sneeze hiccups. It’s like a car that doesn’t want to turn over in the mornings. It seems like it will start, but then it gives a series of stuttering-like coughs and stops. I didn’t want to let go of my nose because I knew a sneeze would escape. So I grabbed a tissue and tried to blow my nose, thinking it would prevent the sneeze. I can’t explain how it happened, but between my yelps, sneezes, cough, and the sneeze hiccups, I stopped any more sneezes until later in the day, when it started all over again.  

Friday, while I waited to see my doctor, I sat in the waiting room and cried and cried. Trying to get out of my car and what seemed like a long walk into the office was unbearable. There weren’t any patients in the waiting room, so I let those tears fall. That felt good until I had to blow my nose.

I hate to complain, but sometimes it’s necessary. I have gotten into a better routine of getting in and out of bed. I never knew my body could contort like that. I guess we’re never too old to learn something new.

It’s 3:00 a.m. as I write this. I can’t sleep, everything hurts, so now I am wide awake. It’s easier for me to sit in a chair than to try and get back into bed and be uncomfortable.

I peeked into the freezer to take out meat for today’s meal. There was only one package of meat there, and after I saw what it was, I quickly closed the freezer door. It can’t be, I thought. I think God may have a sense of humor because the package of meat was spare ribs. The thing is, I am going to be hungry later, and I don’t feel like going to the grocery store, so I opened up the freezer door once again and hesitantly took out the package of ribs.

When the ribs finish cooking in the crock pot tonight, I hope my hunger will override any squeamishness in eating those ribs. I’m sure down the road, a bit, I may laugh about all of this, but I hope it isn’t anytime too soon.

Commentary by: Laurie Davis

Laurie Davis, Columnist
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