One of the good things that comes of people taking selfies is that they are a) willing to take pictures of themselves, and b) willing to then share them on line in various social media. The TODAY show spent the week exploring ways in which all of us – those taking selfies and those not – might do a better job of loving ourselves – with particular emphasis on our bodies, that aspect of self that routinely causes us the greatest angst.
I have had a long battle with my body (67 years and counting) – for which I look back to my mother who did not come equipped with the skills to know how to make that different for me (now I have a grounded understanding of that and no longer am angry about it). As a youth I was always tall, and (yes, then!) always thin. Other than being the tallest in many of my classes until High School, the height and weight were not an issue. In passing through the leg line twice during my creation, I missed out on getting womanly boobs – and that has been a forever issue for me. Add to that smallness on top to the now burgeoning, Williams women’s large middle, and the picture is even less beautiful.
But. But, I mentioned at the top that I have had surgery recently. I have a new right hip (what I lovingly call my new right rear axle). And amid the “love your selfie” conversation and the gift of the new joint, I am coming closer to loving MY selfie – loving that I was in good enough condition to have the surgery, that I am as mobile as I am, that my tummy though large and my breasts though small, are all still coming together as one to support me and bless me with a healthy being. This may indeed be the beginning of a love story, and indeed, a minor miracle.
Shortly before being wheeled into the operating room the anesthesiologist was talking with me about general anesthesia and about a nerve block. He was using an ultra sound to know where best to insert the needle for the block. I think I said something to him – but cannot be sure – about the miracle of being able to do this. Years ago I suspect when people got nerve blocks for surgery the person administering the injection did so (simply!) with his or her best understanding of human physiology. You’d have to hope it was good!
Coming home, I was introduced to the personal care minor miracles that have made it possible for me to dress myself and to pick up things I’ve dropped. If you have not yet had the pleasure of knee or hip surgery you may be unaware of the minor miracle called the “sock-putter-oner”. It is an ingenious device – you put your sock on the frame of the do-thingy (technical term), put your foot in the thingy and then pull on the straps attached thereto. Voila! Your sock is on your foot; it may not be perfectly aligned, but that is not thingy error, rather user error.
In addition to the sock-putter-oner there is the sock remover/pants remover/pant leg starter device. It is a wooden stick with two configurations in molded wire at the end. Properly used it can go into the cuff of your sock, and with your guidance and pressure the sock comes off your foot. Getting dressed or undressed in slacks (and alas, at the beginning, even your undies…) it serves to hold open the leg on your wounded side so you can insert your foot without bending. If this has a name, it did not stick. I guess it is the nameless minor miracle.
Lastly there is the “reacher” with which you may be familiar by way of elders in your family or circle of friends. Drop something? Or take off your undies in the bathroom and now need to move them from floor to hamper? The reacher is for you. And – it doubles as the nameless minor miracle particularly in sock removal if your reacher is elsewhere …as it will always be. That too, it seems is a minor – if unwelcomed – miracle.
Love your selfie. Love the minor miracles that are a part of your life. I am.