One of life's little pleasures.

One of the common phrases I heard growing up came when I would fall down; trip over something, lose my balance, etc. etc. The phrase was, "come here, I'll pick  you up." In my younger years, I might whine over some little incident and would be told, "I'll give you something to cry about.". Don't get me wrong, our parents weren't abusive, just would not tolerate whining over little things. Another phrase I remember that would come if there was a semi-serious injury; "that's gonna feel good when it quits hurtin". That one came from people who witnessed another's trauma as well as a response to one's own misfortune. When the news of my grand-daughter fainting while helping me out of bed got to family members, I got a card from an aunt who said, "We heard you had an 'out of bed experience' 'haha'" Little unpleasant incidents were often met with some form of humor to bridge the moment. A little closer to home, another  instance came to mind. A few years ago. I had noticed this little pimple on my abdomen at my belt line. It was noticable because it was irritated by my belt. As time went on, I somehow forgot about it until it had become a rather painful abscess that gave me difficulty in walking. I finally yielded and called the MD for help. Our regular doctor was on vacation so I was seen by a female PA (physician's assistant). She was a rather matter of fact individual, pleasant, but not overly friendly. She came up with the same conclusion as my family veterinarian; it needed to be lanced. At this point this thing was very sensitive to the touch. She prepared the site as I laid back preparing myself for what was about to come.  She punctured it, giving me a really, really sharp pain followed immediately by relief I hadn't felt in several days. I sat straight up and exclaimed, "You Bitch! Thank You".. She just looked at me and grinned, knowing she had done her  job and my comment wasn't meant to be personal (except for the thank you). But there it was again. the pain/pleasure cycle born out in an instant.

Some time back, I posted my feelings about the total knee replacement. Now, a few weeks later, except for those excruciating times when I (or a physical therapist) forces the joint to either straighten or bend beyond that comfort zone, I am pretty much painl free. In fact, although it's hard to compare, I would say that overall my knee feels better than it did before the surgery. However, the knee isn't the issue for this post.  Did you see the movie "Crazy Heart"? Remember how they helped paint the personality of the main character as he got out  of his "boat" and poured this amber fluid from the milk jug in the parking lot? I think they accomplished their purpose as most people thought, "how gross".. The other day, somehow in our conversation, Georgia said something to the effect of, "do you have those times when you have to pee so bad, but you know it is going to hurt to get out of bed, so you lie there trying to decide whether to go or not?" I got this smile on my face which threw her for a bit of a loop. You may have heard that old saying, "a bean is a fruit, but a pea is a relief". Right???? Is my tapestry pattern starting to take shape?  If you are alive enough to read this and aren't wearing a catheter, you know the great feeling when you relieve the pressure of a full bladder. So why was I smiling? I realized in that moment that I had nearly reached nirvana in that regard. A month ago, in my post op condition, after pulling my catheter, they supplied me with this cute little bottle which they called a urinal. Here I am, a month out from surgery, and one of my most prize possessions is that little plastic bottle. I only use it at night, but after lying in bed for a while, my knee starts to stiffen, so that the thought of getting out of bed during the night even sounds painful to me. But I have my little friend who helps me to relieve the pressure of a full bladder without risking the pain of getting out of bed. Now you can surely see why I was smiling. What more could one ask? Then I got to thinking about that movie. Here was our hero who was driving long distances, most likely imbibing diuretic fluids and not wanting to make pit stops. A logical solution was the empty milk jug. What a brilliant practice. I could however expect that there might be some tense moments while placing that jug and driving without spilling the elixer. Then I felt a bit foolish. We raised 3 boys, yet, in all those trips between Georgia and Indiana as well as between East Central Illinois and Northeastern Indiana, I don't ever remember employing this brilliant tool. We would look for acceptable places to go to the bathroom and when the crisis demanded, would often stop along the highway to let one of the boys "take care of business" .. always one at a time, right? Why did we never think of this????  There might have been the rare instance where an empty coke can was used, risking repeat circumcision, but we never made it a practice to have something in the car solely for the purpose of collecting urine when necessary. Well that was then and now is now. You can bet however that on future trips across the country, there will be one of these little beauties in the vehicle. Sorry ladies, I don't have a solution for you,. but thanks to Crazy Heart and Dr. Bane, my problem is solved. Just one of the little pleasures in life in which the accompanying pain can be avoided.  Truly the "pause that refreshes".