If I were a little kid and used tantrums to indicate my displeasure, right now I’d be down on my back in the middle of the floor having the mother of all tantrums. WAHHHHHH! WAHHHHH!
Why?
It has been confirmed by my doctor. I’ve SHRUNK!
WAHHHHHH!
All the tests I’ve taken in the last few years to measure bone loss have been in the normal range. So why, when I get on the scale at the doctor’s office, do I suddenly find that I am no longer 5 feet 6 inches tall, a height that I’ve maintained since I was a senior in high school, and now am a runty 5 feet 4-1/2 inches?
I have a theory, however. I’m going to go to a good shoe store and have one of those cracker-jack salesmen measure my feet, and I’ll betcha’ he will find that I take a much larger shoe size than before. I think the extra inch and a half that I have lost in height has simply moved down into my feet and elongated them a couple of inches.
This is just the same principle as the calcium in my fingernails leaving for the big trek to the toenails, which now, with that extra layer of nail on them are totally untrimmable by anyone except someone using power tools.
My upper eyelids are moving down to rest on my upper eyelashes. When I went to the eye-doctor the other day for my visual field test, which is for checking peripheral vision, I told the technician that I always had to be very conscientious about holding my eyes wide open, so I can see all the little flashing dots around the edge. I keep my eyes open as wide as if I had been goosed unexpectedly. Believe me, I see every flash! She laughed and said I should consider my doctor for doing a blepharectomy, as she does an excellent job. Obviously the technician does not recall that I am on Medicare, and eyelids are considered superfluous for medical attention. Maybe when the time comes that I have to scotch-tape my eyelids up to avoid needing a guide dog, Medicare will reconsider.
My usual happy-face grin, the reflection of my happy personality, now has suffered the same effect as a carved Halloween pumpkin does when it sits forgotten on the back porch until December.
Everything in my body, from the top of my head, my eyelids, my mouth, my earlobes, my neck skin, my boobs, my stomach, my gluteus maximus, the skin on my knees (of all things!), the arches of my feet, right to the end of my toes, are all moving south.
Now none of this is a big surprise – except for not being 5 feet 6 inches tall any more. That is just shocking to me. I am SO distressed.
I always considered myself a nice height. I bred three tall children and one short one. Short is hardly a word in my vocabulary. And the most distressing part is that I am almost shorter than my shortest child now. Oh my gosh, I am soon to be a little old lady, and that’s probably how my kids are going to refer to me, “Oh, my mom? Yes she’s still alive but she’s a little old lady now.” I can hear it coming!! WAHHHHHHH!
There’s not much I can do about it, except for this. Just as the DMV probably has always wondered how I managed to keep the same weight over the years, they now will wonder the same thing about my height. I’m not telling them, ever, that I’m not 5’6” anymore. And if I ever get stopped by a cop, I really doubt if he’ll challenge anything on my driver’s license.
Oh my, I don’t see myself as a little old lady. But I saw the measuring arm of the doctor’s scale stop at 64-1/2 inches so I know it is true. But I sure don’t have to like it! WAHHHHHH!
3 comments:
How funny! Southward migration. My favorite part (actually there were many favorites) was your height moving to your feet.
There is actually one part of the female southward migration that, like a salmon swimming upstream to mate, bucks the trend and carves its own northward path - hair! The hairs on my legs have migrated north and are now making their home on my chin!
OMG, you are SO right! Mine too!
Post a Comment