If fancy Manhattan orthopedists were really the supreme beings my mom thinks they are, wouldn't the prominent doctor who gave her the go ahead to run marathons have anticipated that her spine was about to break in two? So much for blind faith.
Yes, just as the mayhem of May seemed to really be behind us and mom was happily going about her business on two legs, she was struck down again, this time by a compression fracture in her spine. Whether it resulted from the strain of her accident related breaks or eighty years of normal wear and tear on her bones, it just plain sucks.
The gods (with a small "g") on the Upper East Side are scrambling to ascertain the source and remedy the problem; hopefully, they will be able to restore power to my mother faster than Commonwealth Edison has been able to restore power to deep dark suburbia. It's been five days since the latest devastating storm hit, and many folks remain without lights, without air conditioning, and, most tragically, without the use of their favorite health club.
As if I didn't have enough problems, the doors of my trusty old gym have been closed all week. Even in the wee hours of the morning, when the air outside is still cool and heat stroke is probably not that much of a concern, they won't make an exception and let the diehards in to get a quick fix. A little stretch, a few quick lifts -- what would be the harm?
Apparently, Commonwealth Edison does not grasp the situation. Desperate, endorphin starved faces are pressed against the glass doors of the dark health club each morning, and the electric company looks the other way as it misguidedly prioritizes its work on the grid. For some reason, places like doctors offices are deemed more deserving of immediate attention. And this isn't even the Upper East Side of Manhattan!
Where, mercifully, there is power, so the supreme beings there can get to work figuring out how to fix my mother. Again.
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