One of my favorite little old ladies, Grandma Joyce. She is NOT from Pasadena, but I am.
Lately I've been feeling very, very OLD. Now before you all jump down my throat and reassure me that the best years are yet to come, just bear with me for a short moment (or five) as I complain about my failing body.
Exhibit A: My sore hip.
(I generally like to include only my own personal photos, so here is a disclaimer: this is not a picture of me, it is, however, very applicable to the story)
No, apparently you don't have to be an 81 year old woman to have a "sore hip." Maybe nursing school is turning me into a hypochondriac (I had a patient with a total hip replacement the other day...), but I seriously think my joints are going by the way side. I'm supposed to be running the Salt Lake Marathon on April 17th, but I'm afraid I may have to cancel, due to a throbbing hip flexor and every-day fatigued legs :( After thoroughly scaring myself by researching hip injuries on the interweb (don't EVER look up battle stories about the ailment you're dealing with, you won't like what you find), I've taken the last three days off from training. Humbly subdued into rest, and feeling rather sorry for myself, I headed for FHE; there's nothing like a great night of Mormon bowling to lift the spirits. Little did I know that this activity would only re-aggravate my injury (yes, bowling=pain). Somewhere around the 5th frame I felt a tight pinch...Granted, it was kind of worth it- I still managed to get a turkey and out-bowl everyone in my ward (the Bishop being the lone exception).
Exhibit B: Failing eyesight
Ahh, the glory days...
I've always taken great pride in my 20/20 vision, knowing that it was necessary if I ever wanted to become an ocean lifeguard. I recall watching my all-time favorite show, "Baywatch," as a little girl, and distinctly remember the episode where John Cort develops cataracts, becomes legally blind, and has to wear those ridiculously cool sun shades. Sadly, he has to quit lifeguarding and leave CJ, Mitch and the rest of the crew forever. [***Important sidenote: upon researching this story, I came across no fewer than SEVEN episodes of B-watch with "blind" in the title, kudos to those imaginative writers] Lately, I find myself squinting at objects, sitting at the front of the class (so as to read the board more easily), and getting fuzzy-eyed when reading small print. Sigh. So much for my perfect vision, I guess I'll have to rely on my astute sense of smell (since my hearing is only so-so, right Heidizzle?).
Exhibit C: Baby fever
Imagine the awesome ski outfits, Dodgers gear, and sweet shoes I could subject my children to wear!
My twenty-fifth year of life has brought with it a kicked-in motherly instinct; I can feel my biological clock ticking now more than ever. Again, I will blame this partly on nursing school, since many of my clinical hours are spent in Labor & Delivery, Mother Baby, and Pediatric units. In addition, my mind has been jam-packed with facts about optimal years for child-birthing, and the dangers of waiting too long... not to mention the small window of opportunity for "hot mom" status; I need to start popping them out before my most fertile years expire!!! I will also blame my baby fever on the fact that my best friends and family members keep producing absolutely adorable children. Perhaps if they were a little uglier I wouldn't have such a longing for my own (if you love me at all, heed this suggestion). All of this being said, maybe the two biggest reasons for wanting a baby are:
1) Being prego would finally allow me a legitimate reason for having a bit of a belly.
2) I could make a really dramatic blog-post announcement, garnishing dozens, maybe even hundreds(!) of comments from well-wishers and loved ones. Yes, I'm a bit of a ham, which is a great segway into...
Me, eating, at Point Reyes in Northern California.
Not to get too personal here, but geez! They weren't lying when they (whoever they are: mothers, grandmothers, etc.) said I wouldn't always have the metabolism of a hummingbird. A little winter insulation is expected, but when you can actually see your body composition begin to change, it's frightening! Now that you're all imagining me as a 723 lbs. woman, rest assured, I will include a current picture on my next post (don't worry: I'm only SIX 23!!)
Exhibit E: Staying up too late
Not one of my best nights of rest; sleeping out on Colorado Blvd. on New Years Eve
I just flat out cannot function without a decent night's sleep. My favorite saying lately has been: "I'm just not 19 anymore..." This indicates that I can no longer do the things that a spry college sophomore could pull. Late nights, waking up at 4 AM to cram for a test, all-nighters, and the like absolutely wipe me out. My body cannot keep up and I will operate at <30%>
Despite all of this, I still feel like I'm 12 years old some days- those days are just fewer and further between. I'm caught somewhere between a teenager and a grown adult. I think Britney said it best, when she sang her hit song: "I'm Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman." I'll leave you with her profound words as she stands atop the beautiful red rock scenery of Southern Utah: a place that tends to make me feel like a kid again, and a place I CANNOT WAIT to get back to in approximately 1.5 months!
