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King Nestor

Am afflicted with a recurring problem with my right leg. When I do a lot of walking, more than usual, the back of my knee feels stiff, uncomfortable, and if I continue to walk my leg begins to swell. My remedy is to lay off and apply an ice pack. But this takes time. Perhaps a week or two. Which does not make me happy.

The sun is shining and I want to go to the creek and surrounding woods. I should see the doctor, get checked out, but I am reluctant because my financial situation is, shall we say, strained and requires continued frugality. My practice throughout the years has always been to allow the natural process of homeostasis to do its work. So far I’ve been lucky.

The worst part of being thus immobilized is that without the distraction of nature and vigorous physical activity, all sorts of geriatric symptoms like numerous other aches and pains crowd in. So I must write, or I must read, or turn up the volume on Berenboim’s performance of the Beethoven Diabelli variations.

I must be like King Nestor and refuse to yield to the sorrows of old age. But I feel like a teenager trapped in a creaky old body. Holy cow, how did this happen? And why so suddenly? Why just the other day I was running six miles at dawn. Now I'm lucky if I can walk more than a mile.

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Many thanks for your kind & generous comments, glad that you find my work of interest. Yes, my leg condition fits the symptoms and I'm encouraged that using an Ace bandage and cold pack is slowly bringing the leg back to normal. My thinking is that I'll just wait and see. If it gets worse, of course I'll bite the bullet and visit my doctor.

What complicates all this is that I'm a life-long hypochondriac, and the slightest twinge makes me think I've got cancer or are about to have a paralyzing stroke, or a heart attack.

My mother used to say, "Johnny, you dramatize things too much."

Well, what do you expect, ma?, I could have said. I'm a friggin' writer.

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