The Hits Just Keep On Comin'

            Lately, the messages sent my way have me scratching my head. When I add them up, they lead me to some startling discoveries about myself.

            Like many of you, when I look in the mirror – if I don’t look too closely, that is – I look and mostly feel just like I always did.  I certainly act the same; just ask my husband who no doubt desperately wishes that weren’t so.  Anyway, I’m wondering if the world is trying to tell me something.

            In the past few months, I’ve had some encounters that have given me pause.    I went to my doctor for a check up.  For the first time ever, my cholesterol was elevated.  I can’t say I was too surprised as I also learned (ok, I already knew it)  that I am just slightly off the chart in another area – ok, you guessed it – the suggested weight for my age and height.  Do you think those two things could go together? Never mind. 

            I was then sent for a bone scan where I learned that my bones are thinning out.  Furthermore, I’m a fourth of an inch shorter than I was last time I was measured.   How is this fair when my full-grown  height was only 5’ 2 ½”?

            So, I’m fat and getting shorter.   What’s so bad about that?  Well, keep reading; I’m not done yet.  I went to my eye doctor and learned that I have cataracts. They aren’t causing any problems, but they are now on my chart for future reference.

            However, my most startling revelation occurred not in a doctor’s office, but when buying a pair of shoes.  The over-eager shoe salesman would not leave me alone.  He consistently directed me to the “old lady” boots with low heels.  I kept looking at the high-heeled ones (they are great for short fat people, you know), trying to throw him off and to regain a bit of self-respect.   Nonetheless, I did finally buy a pair of black boots (Ok I admit they are low-heeled Naturalizers).  He asked me if I had exciting plans for the afternoon.  I said no, that my errands were completed, and I was going home.  He looked at me, leered,  and said, “Are you going home to take a little nap?” 

            So, somehow I’m not only short and fat with bad eyes, but I look like I need to go home and take a nap? 

Add to this list the fact that I recently got brand new glasses with very (or so I was led to believe) up-to-date frames.  Guess what?  I had them for over a week, and not a single soul –friend, neighbor, husband,  grocery clerk – noticed. 

            I think that my mother’s oft-repeated adage has now come true, “Nobody’s looking at me” – except for predatory shoe salesmen, that is.

Shrinking and thinking,

I remain

Tizzie/Tiz/Liz/ Tizmom/Mom/Grandma/Grizzie