February has started well… or at least we can’t complain. What will it be, will it be?
It has rained, which we needed, but unless it rains more, this summer we are going to be worse than a lizard in a frying pan. So far, so good. But if it continues like this, I can already see myself in August getting into the fridge with the dogs.
And speaking of things that can’t be avoided, this weekend has been weird… but in a good way. All the people have been nice, friendly, with good vibes, without long faces or absurd complaints. Just like in the old days! Because lately there was always some “weirdo” showing up with the face of having bitten into an expired lemon. But not this time. This weekend was cool!
If it weren’t for the fact that my hip is killing me alive.
I don’t know what I’ve done, but the pain has me fried. At first I thought it was silly, that it would go away in a couple of days… but after a week of walking around like a lame duck, I decided to give up and go to the CAP on Friday. And there was the doctor, looking at me with an “I told you so” face without even having told me anything before.
-Tell me, what’s wrong with you?
I explained my Greek tragedy and she, undeterred, prescribed the winning combo: Enantyum, Nolotil, Lyrica and rest. Yes, rest. The most complicated part of the prescription. Because it’s one thing to take the pill and quite another to stay still when you have a garden that looks like the Amazon jungle and four dogs who think the house is their amusement park.
And the worst was not that. The worst came when the doctor looked at me seriously and said the sentence I was dreading:
-Look, this is no longer enough. You have to have surgery for those two hernias, yes or yes.
And that’s when I felt like asking the doctor to prescribe me a time machine instead of pills, so I could go back to the years when I could do everything without ending up bent like a churro.
So of course, with that diagnosis in my head and the anti-inflammatories in my pocket, I returned home ready to “rest”.
But my dogs had other plans.
As soon as I arrived, Masto decided that the best thing for my recovery was to dig a hole in the garden. I don’t know what he was trying to find, but knowing him, I’m sure he was hoping to find oil.
Maky, on the other hand, opted for the “nothing happened here” tactic and lay down right where I had just cleaned up. As if he were a statue. If there was an Olympic category for acting crazy, Maky would take the gold.
Mastitwo, who is the most adventurous, decided that a flower pot was not in its place and took it for a walk all over the terrace, as if it were a trophy.
And Mamas… oh, Mamas… just looked at me, with that “I told you so” face that, in combination with the doctor’s, was already starting to piss me off.
Still, I tried to do something in the garden, because of course, what can go wrong? Well, everything.
Within ten minutes it was more bent than an accordion, with Masto digging ditches, Maky lying in the only clean part of the garden, Mastitwo stealing pots and Mamas overseeing the chaos.
And me, there, clutching my hip like an old man, with my cell phone in the other hand Googling, “How to accept that you’re not 20 anymore without dying trying.”
In the end, I threw in the towel and sat on the terrace with a beer in my hand. Masto came up to me, looked at me with that expression that said “I warned you, human”, sighed and lay down at my feet.
And at that moment, with the pain in my hip, the prescription on the table and my dogs doing whatever they wanted, I asked myself the big question:
Will February be a good month?
Well… if I survive the operation and my attempts to play the young man, maybe. 😆
Reflection: Time passes, but the essence remains
Sometimes, we find it hard to accept that the years go by and that our bodies are setting limits that we could not even imagine before. We want to continue doing the same things we did twenty years ago, with the same energy and without consequences… but reality gives us a tug on the hip and reminds us that this is not the case.
However, beyond the aches, pains or even the inevitable operations, there is one thing that does not change: the attitude. We can lament or we can laugh at the situation, accepting with humor that the body complains, but the head continues to dream of adventures.
Dogs, with their nonchalance and their ability to enjoy every moment, teach us a great lesson: live the present without thinking about what you can no longer do, but what you can still enjoy.
Yes, we have to take care of ourselves, slow down and accept that we are not immortal. But as long as we can laugh at our limitations and carry on with good humor, we will be beating time.
Because in the end, what matters is not the age on your ID card, but the attitude with which you continue to face life. 💪😆🐾
From MasTorrencito we wish you a good day and may your dogs be with you!!!!
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