Wednesday, August 28, 2013


I'm finally sharing with everyone something I haven't even admitted to myself.

It's sort of shameful and I really didn't want to tell anyone. But it's become so obvious to ME that I'm sure people have taken notice. Even though they haven't said anything about it.

OK. Here goes.


I suppose it's okay to be deformed. We have a tolerant society. It's politically incorrect to laugh at people with handicaps.

It's really okay to have one boob too small. It's not like I use them for anything anymore. I breast fed four babies and entertained a number of husbands & boyfriends and made less endowed women jealous. Alas, those days are over.

I only wear bras to keep my boobs from jiggling when I walk and from getting stuck in the waistband of my pants. (Even though I think bras were invented by sadistic misogynists to sell them to women who never knew they needed them. Or to squeeze the breath out of us so lack of oxygen will befuddle our brains and make us more docile.)

I was wondering how I ought to go about fixing my smaller boob. I'm disinclined to get a boob job like the young hot girls. (It's really hard to let go of my big boobed hot years of long ago. << Sigh >>)

It's doubtful I could find a plastic surgeon who'd be willing to shorten the other one to match.

I'm not sure if I should look around for a bra that's padded on only one side. I could look around the house for an old shoulder pad that used to come with blouses and dress jackets. I bet most of you all are too young to remember them. I'd worry that A shoulder pad would fall out at an inopportune time and splash into my soup. Oh yeah. That's another reason I wear bras. Some soup is steaming hot!

Should I just forget about fixing it? If someone actually notices I should be glad that they still think it's worth looking in the direction of my breasts?

I don't know.  

I'm glad I got that confession off my chest. So to speak.

I'm not ready to talk about my other deformities. The real reason I wear pants with elastic waists. My stomach is too big; it sticks out too much. On the other hand, keeping up the interest in my different sized boobs does detract from interest in my potbelly.

Me at age 14 in the olden days when both my boobs were big enough.

Monday, August 05, 2013

I sprained every muscle in my body Saturday night. Listen to this (without laughing).

I keep forgetting my nighttime medications make me off balance. I went into the bathroom without my cane to use the "facilities" when I'd already been dozing off. I felt kinda like I was walking drunk (tho I forget what that was like because I quit drinking after my wild 20's.)

So before I knew it, I lost my balance and tipped over backwards, I grabbed at the handicapped bar beside the toilet. I missed!

I then kept tipping over so I grabbed at the smaller handicapped bar beside the tub.

I sat down on the side of the tub, relieved. Next thing I knew I was still tipping over backwards. I slid into the tub still holding to the bar. It was a slow motion fall. I wasn't hurt in the fall. I just sort of slipped in.

Eventually (i.e., not suddenly) I found myself in the tub, with my head leaning forward, on the far side of the tub and my legs sticking up over the side into the room. I was sideways in the tub, not lengthwise. 

I still had my shoes on.

I wasn't hurt in the fall. I just sort of slipped in.  

I have yanked myself out of the tub when I take a real bath, so no problem, right?
I realized I had to pull myself up with my arms by holding the handicap bar but I couldn't do it with only one hand. I had to go straight up because my legs were pretty much higher than my head, if you can imagine. 
However, I had the shower chair in the tub and it was pulled up closer to the faucet so I was wedged into the space between both faucet and chair. No wiggle-room.

My first thought was, "I hope there's no spiders in here." Then I noticed my butt was getting wet from the tub floor. I reminded myself I had other pajamas. Then remembered I didn't and what was I going to wear to bed? Dismissed that idea. I'd find something.

I knew I had to get out. I would have been too embarrassed if someone found me in this un-ladylike position. Especially dead--no telling how long it would have taken to find me. Besides I didn't want my dogs chewing on my toes. 

I contemplated my dilemma. I had to turn and get all the way into the tub before I could get out. So I swiveled around in the small space available. Oof. Groan.
Now my knees were bent up in front of me. Nearly touching my chin. At least I was facing the right way.

My left knee hurt when I tried to bend it enough to get my feet under me or push myself up to standing, so I couldn't do it. Ouch. 

I then had a hold of both handicap bars, one on each side of the tub. So I tried to pull myself up with my arms. Ugh, what a job that was.

I finally lifted myself up, moaning and straining and finally sat on the edge of the shower chair. It was a tough maneuver. But I did it!

I couldn't help but think:  I wish I hadn't gained 20 lbs. the last couple years. I thought next that if I were really really old (instead of just moderately old) I never could have done it. No time to worry about the future at this point.

So, I'm glad I wasn't hurt myself in the fall. I just sprained every muscle in my body getting up. Probably serves me right. If I ever fall again I hope it's in-love not bathroom fixtures.

So. The next day was Sunday and  "day of rest" has taken on a new meaning.