Random thoughts, Random issues

Daylilies only bloom for a day. Too bad most of us don't think about that earlier in life. Today, my husband and I went to the Miami County Fair, after I had worked in the garden for about three hours.

I didn't think I did all that much...I dug out two perennials, hauled in some soil and back filled around the pond, and planted 4 new perennials. Then, I mulched it.

As far as my normal gardening days go, this was really light. At the fair, we walked around for a couple of hours. By the end of the time, my hip was really hurting. I realized that perhaps I needed to really concentrate on losing weight so that the joint isn't under so much pressure. I also realize that just possibly this pain won't go away over time and I won't be able to be as active as I once was. I don't think I'll ever be able to run again and I don't even think that hiking, something my husband and I used to do before my daughter came along, will be in the picture. Thinking of myself wheelchair bound is just not something I ever considered, not that most people in their pre-30s ever think about something like that.

But, that might not be the case either...even so, it is sobering. It is possible, that if I survive this recent go around, I will just have to be careful. I'm not sure about if the damage or pain I'm having now is directly related to cancer, or if it is as a result of my loss of estrogen at age 38, the calcium issues (loss) from chemo, and the damage to the area from the high-dose radiation. In addition, because it was the acetabelum (the cup in the pelvis which the rounded head of the femur rests in) it is possible that it is just the problems associated with a break in that bone (nerve damage, muscle issues as well as pain because that part bears so much pressure).

I have decided that whenever the hale and hearty male friends of my daughter show up to go swimming, I am going to make each one of them dig me one hole...or do something else which requires putting foot to shovel. One of her friends offered to help me when he found out I had cancer...but never showed up until I messaged him on facebook (I don't think these kids know how to communicate other than texting or facebook) and asked him when and how much. $10 per hour, and three hours of labor I got some of the things done, but I have about 2 hours more of work to do.

I find it amazing that although these kids don't have jobs for the most part, or if they do, they are for a few hours rather than during the daytime, that I can't hire them for a bit of work. Now, I know that this sounds like I am an old fogy, and I suppose I am, but I worked for less than minimum wage when I was their age. I am amazed that making $2.50 per hour OVER minimum wage won't bring them in....and when I say digging, I don't mean hard digging....if it weren't for my hip, I'd do it myself.

I'm about ready to pick up someone who sits out on the highway exit with a "will work for food" sign....if it weren't so scary to do that..... Maybe hanging a "handicapped" sign off the end of my nose, or as a medallion on my neck might do. At present, people don't know there is anything wrong with me....My daughter suggested that I get an handicapped license. I would, but I don't need it ALL the time...just more than I'd like to admit. It is nice that she thinks about where I'm parking and how I hobble at the end of the college campus visits we make. Oh well, at least I'm still taking in breaths. ; )