Super Heroes and Gettin' Old

Snap, pop, crackle goes the fabric as I pop the creases and bunches out of my thigh high atomic compression stocking. Actually it is practically package high. I have become very adept at peeling it on and off, a skill lost on many wearers. It does put me in mind of cereal sometimes though. The finished product is a manikin leg if all is done correctly. Getting them on is all about getting the heel in the right place to begin with. I use lotion now, never have I been softer Inger pointed out as she did my MLD pump points. So the disease now allows me to be Spandex Man, or Soft Leg, Rice Krispys Man, Manikin Man, Smooth Foot among potential super hero personas. The list is potentially endless. Mom used to set out on a neighbors patio in the front of her building with the other single ladies. Often times they would engage in conversations about their health or about someone they know, or someone known by someone they know, or sometimes someone they have no idea who they are. Paul likes to remind me that as we get older us guys are sounding increasingly like Mom and her octogenarian friends. At a recent outing visiting with other bladder cancer victims I listened as the acronyms, pharmaceutical names, precise dosages and gory detail rolled out. I now understand that this is an important part of the process of coping with age, pain and disease. While I abhor the practice of going into minute detail, I do feel a little endorphin rush sometimes when I am sharing it. There is a sort of third person fascination with my own plight going on here. Mother nature at work I think.