Aug. 16, 2003 ~ Maintenance
There was a time when I didn't require much in the way of maintenance. A little food, a little exercise, and an annual checkup, at which I was pronounced good to go. Took a multivitamin when I remembered.
Now, both getting up and going to bed require some advance planning. There are pills to take at certain times, and my memory is such that the pills must be sorted and placed into one of those little contraptions with boxes for different times of day and days of the week. Eye drops must be put in first thing in the morning, then there's the usual routine of washing and brushing... that part's easy. Next comes moisturizer with sunscreen, every day without fail. Wait twenty or thirty minutes before going outside, to give the sunscreen time to kick in. Apply minimal makeup. There are nose sprays and things for allergies. Eye drops throughout the day, and trying to remember to take the pills. Can't lift anything heavier than about ten pounds now, so I just have to make more trips, whether it's to unload groceries or whatever. Not that long ago, I was the one always helping people carry their heavy loads. No more.
Nighttime means more eyedrops, then ointment in my eyes before bed. That changes things a bit. Once the ointment is in, my vision is too blurry for reading. My habit of many years was to read until I was sleepy, put the book down, turn off the light and go to sleep. Now I must get up and put the ointment in, and just the getting out of bed seems to make it hard to fall asleep. I expect I'll adjust eventually.
None of this is a big deal, and overall I'm still pretty low-maintenance. I was just noticing the differences.
When we first moved here and bought Dakotah, he was 6 years old. Shiny, oh, so shiny and sleek. Our mare, Sugar, was about 13 (we aren't so sure about her age), and Bucky was born that first year. Now Bucky is... 9, Dakotah is 15, and Sugar is 22. Dakotah, my baby, probably qualifies for senior horse status! He still looks like a baby to me, despite the extra white hairs on his muzzle. But maybe we should start giving him the food for senior horses, and check his teeth more often. As time passes, we all just seem to need a little more maintenance.
Husband has gone to get the first load of hay. The fellow who is selling the hay has a machine which picks up 8 bales at a time, then he can set them down on our trailer. So at least Husband doesn't have to load them. Unloading will be hard, though. He plans on 2 loads today, possibly 3. I guess we'll get 5 loads, which will be anywhere between 350 to 400 bales. Well, it's 80 bales per load, but we wanted to get 350, which would wind up being 4 full loads and 1 little one, so we might just get a fifth full load. Depends on how exhausted Husband is. He should be home any minute with that first load. I'm listening for his arrival, so I can go out and open the gates.
Our friend is feeling a little better, though I think he is scared, frightened by all this pain. He also doesn't know what the future holds. I know that in this era of lawsuits, people aren't supposed to apologize or admit any fault whatsoever. But it is strange to think that someone could cause another person so much pain, could disrupt his life totally, and never say a word. I understand the practical reasons for her silence; it just feels weird, that's all. And while the injured person is laying there in bed, they are thinking, "Why, she's not even sorry. She doesn't even care." I'm no expert, but I wonder... does that encourage more lawsuits? I don't know.
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