When I was a kid I would play all day and my legs would ache when I’d go to bed, so my mom gave me the special Kentucky home medical treatment of tying socks around the sore parts. This was a method handed down from my grandma and after I pointed out all the aching spots that needed socks, I would look like a sort of sock mummy, but just on my legs. I offered this treatment to daughter’s friend who looked at me with a special look and said “I think I’ll be all right, anyway.” That’s fine; I’ve been running low on socks.
I love taking walks around the neighborhood with my next-door neighbor. We stroll around and talk about just about everything in life from religion, family, politics to movies and recipes-everything! Well, a couple weeks ago we took off walking when she turned suddenly to me and put her hand on my shoulder.
“Jodie, you’re hip,” Steph said.
I was knocked out by her kindness for minute, thinking how nice it was for her to notice how “with it” I am. I didn’t think I was that into what’s cool nowadays, but maybe I was more up-to-date than I realized. I was planning some return compliment about how great she was when I realized she’d actually said, “Jodie, your hip.” As in, “It is popping so loud. Can’t you hear it?”
Susan is always telling me on walks that my hip pops, but I can’t hear it from the outside of my ears, but I can feel it on the inside of my body sort of in my eardrums. It’s weird because I don’t even notice it and it sounds so loud to other people, but I am used to it and it never bothers me. Until today. I went to Indian Fort and was creaking and groaning around going up the hill and then I knew. There IS something wrong with my hip. It hurts.
Is this the new forty that’s always being talked about? I think people are trying to tell me how in-the-know I am, but they’re really telling me that I sound like firecrackers when I take a step? What was the old forty? Maybe I will discuss it with Stephanie on our next walk if she can hear me over the sound of my hip.