Ah, aging. Last night on a Zoom with Dr. Barry and Donna, he lamented that much of our conversation was about age related health issues and death. It was a very pleasant conversation for our virtually shared cocktails. What -- would he rather talk about sex? We did, in comical, old people fashion -- but then it was back to health stuff.
I shared my experiences at Band Camp, which were, thankfully all positive. I go back July 9 for the second and hopefully last session of this Summer with the affable Dr. Shah -- last time I was much improved for 5.5 years - that would get me to near 70 this time. I'll take it!
And then I shared an even more absurd thing -- I have a sprained knee. This is nothing new -- I first had a knee injury from a baseball slide when I was probably 16. The pediatrician referred me to an ortho, who without even examining me, started a whole leg cast. I asked him if he needn't examine me first, and he angrily pressed on my knee, eliciting pain, and said "THAT hurts, doesn't it?" I learned then what my many doc friends have confirmed over the years -- surgeons are often huge assholes.
But I got better, and continued to have the occasional knee issue -- typically from sports -- once from trying to lift my corpulent suegra back into the car after T Day -- her last one at our house. I hurt my shoulder AND knee that time -- the shoulder took months to heal.
Each time, though, I at least knew the trauma that caused the sprain. Thursday night, as I left a Happy Hour , I just started to limp. Yesterday. I met Paul and visiting from Philly Lou at Coral Bagels, and the pain was so bad I joked that I needed 80 year old Lou's cane more than he did.
I came home, iced the knee, and kept it raised. My limp was so bad that even Wifey, who typically might step over my collapsed body without noticing -- noticed. I usually take Tylenol for pain, but Donna reminded me that it wasn't particularly anti -inflammatory -- better take some Ibuprofen. I took 2, and this am the aged knee seems much better -- I took another Ibuprofen with a good deal of food -- last time I took it high dose it really bothered my stomach - and NOTHING usually bothers my stomach...
But as Tony Soprano always said -- Yeah, but what are ya gonna do? The great James Gandolfini, who played him, is long dead from a heart attack -- so that keeps me thankful to be around to kvetch about bum knees.
Meanwhile, as delis are important to me, I must note Coral Bagels has gotten much better. I was never a fan, but used to go when meeting someone from up north or Downtown. Pre Plague, I met Dr. Barry there one Saturday -- the food was mediocre, and the waitress kicked us out shortly after our plates were cleared -- "people waiting!" I then banned them from my list -- until a few years ago.
D1 had a medical appointment at UM, and afterwards had a hankering for deli, too. It was a Tuesday, and our usual Bagel Emporium was closed. So she suggested Coral Bagel, and we went, and it was fine. Plus, they had rainbow colored bagels (it's in Coconut Grove -- very LGBTQ - TDYUB friendly) and we were happy. I always add letters to LGBTQ since I want to leave room for newer variants not yet identified by my WOKE peeps...
Yesterday our lunch was great -- we all ate happily unhealthy deli meat sandwiches, and knowing Wifey's "language of love," I brought her a tuna sandwich on rye toast. Her language of love is when I bring her food she can eat without having to get up from her recliner -- or coffee in bed in the mornings. The latter has tapered off since she tends to sleep late.
No grandsons today, so I'll just rest the knee, and maybe head out to fetch a new pair of glasses ready at ForEyes. Of course, the first pair was ready yesterday, and I fetched them. ForEyes started in the Grove in the hippie years, and sure enough the guy in front of me was in his 70s, wearing a Dead T shirt, and had a gray pony tail. He must have followed his glasses store to Pinecrest.
Tomorrow it's a birthday party for Jonathan -- he turns 33 on Monday. His wonderful grandmother insisted on catering the thing -- D2 was going to just bring in sandwiches -- and I'm sure we'll have a fine time, though D 1 is in NYC for a friend's wedding, and the boys will be with their Dad.
Venezuelans sing a comically long birthday song -- I guess we'll see tomorrow if we get to partake in that.
Speaking of D2 and Jonathan, after lunch yesterday at Coral Bagels, I drove past the fraud townhouse they thought they bought, which ended up being sold to 3 other buyers, too. It appears that people are finally living in them -- I guess the receiver and his minions churned the case enough. I called D2 and told her things happen for a reason -- I was MUCH happier with the street where she lived than had she ended up in the Grove. Part of the Grove, where Kenny and Joelle live, has ALWAYS been delightful -- much of the rest of it has been gentrifying for years, and the street of the townhouse still has old, crumbling apartments across the street.
Miami Shores has always been lovely -- and as a Dad -- am happy they live there, even though the drive is double.
That's ok -- for now, my aging tuches can handle the drive -- until some other body part inexplicably fails.
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