Um, ouch?
Around a year ago my ankle developed on-again, off-again pain. It would be swollen and sore after a long walk, as though I had a mild sprain, though I couldn’t remember twisting or otherwise damaging it. And while my memory is absolutely wretched, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have forgotten something so obviously painful.
While talking to my physical therapist, I remembered that I’d sprained that ankle badly about a dozen years ago. I was racing my very fast kid in the Trader Joe’s parking lot in shoes that were not made for running.
There are so many things wrong with that choice that I can hardly bear to think of it.
Not surprisingly I rolled my ankle and was on crutches for days.
And now, apparently, my ankle remembered its former trauma and was ready to process it via recurrent pain. What the hell?? My PT confirmed that old injuries can rear their ugly heads later in life. Which made me think about the increasing lack of mobility in my left shoulder, site of another I-should-have-known-better injury even older than the ankle sprain.
Here is a thing I’ve learned about aging: Just when you think you’ve got a handle on the changing parameters of your body, something new pops up to unsettle you. It’s kind of like parenting that way.
I’m tempted to respond with the oft-repeated phrase, “Nobody told me this would happen!” But is that even true?
My parents were New Englanders; they did not complain. They both enjoyed excellent health, something I aspire to but probably will not match. Did either of them ever mention that they were suffering from old injuries resurfacing? It’s possible. I’d like to think that if they did, I reacted with the proper amount of sympathy.
When you’re not old it’s hard to pay attention to people telling you what will happen when you do get old. Especially if you’re busy trying to manage the difficult things that are on your plate at that very moment. It just doesn’t seem like something you need to worry about.
And would worrying help? We live the lives we live. Maybe if I’d been born into one of the Blue Zones I’d be fitter and looser and free of pain, but that was not my destiny. I could get more exercise and eat more vegetables, but I’m guessing that’s not going to help with the ghostly re-emergence of all my old false moves.
Life is a series of surprises. I think that’s true whether or not you’ve been warned. Some days the surprises are welcome, others not so much. Or, in the words of the unparalleled Mark Knopfler, sometimes you’re the windshield, sometimes you’re the bug.
As for the travails of aging? Ice packs, Advil, and a sense of adventure are the best I can come up with.