Saturday, March 16, 2024

Day of the Doldrums


Trees fall, and their falling causes me much anxiety ever since one fell on my house 3½ years ago.  Many have fallen around here since, knocking out power for four hours, eight hours, and longer.

Old people fall, too, and last Wednesday night, my 91-year-old mother fell and broke her right hip. She was in terrible pain and unable to walk but fortunately she lives with my sister who called an ambulance and took her to the hospital.

Friday morning, she underwent emergency hip-replacement surgery. The surgery went well and after rehab she should be able to walk again, but it's unclear how long rehab will take or if she'll ever be able to return home.

According to my sister's reports, the Moms is being an uncooperative patient, refusing to let nurses touch her or to take her medications. She's being watched 24/7 as she's been trying to take out her IV and remove her ID bracelet.  There's nothing about this story that bodes well for the Moms.

Each year, millions of older people, those 65 and older, fall. According to the CDC, more than one out of four older people falls each year, although less than half tell their doctor. But falling once doubles your chances of falling again. Medications can increase a person's risk of falling because they cause side effects such as dizziness or confusion. Generally speaking, the more medications you take, the more likely you are to fall.

Gravity's a bitch and will eventually get us all in the end, be we trees, mothers, or ROMs.  It's as if the Earth itself decides at some point that we've spent enough time on her surface, and then pulls us down deep into her bosom to reclaim our biomass. Recycle our carbon as it were.   

"You're time is up," gravity whispers to us. "Come on down."

Impermanence is swift.

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