I once had a little league baseball coach tell me that I needed to make an adjustment to hit the outside pitch to right field. I've made a lot of adjustments over a lifetime and now I find myself making some adaptation in these senior years. Adaptation is a more intriguing word than adjustment. Well. it is to me. We have all seen that three-legged dog make adaptations; also, we've noticed humans adapting with various physical challenges.
My wife told me recently that my posture is getting poorer. I suppose three back surgeries and hip issues cause a subliminal 'gate-adaptation'.' On occasion, my children have asked their mother 'why does Dad's right hand sometimes 'shake?' I asked the doctor on one of my checkups about the 'hand-tremor' and he said, "Don't worry, you are not having a stroke and you do not have any nerve disease; you simply have a senile tremor." Holy crap, I thought, explained that way (senile), I won't look for that malady to improve unless I start getting younger.
I must conscientiously attempt to adjust to my tremor-'shakes' and hope that some adaptation will kick in soon; I am tired of putting soup up-my-nose.
I hesitate to mention the following but the other day, I was standing at the men's urinal at Wal Mart; yep, you guessed it. I happened to look down only to notice that I was missing the 'target' and coming close to the fella's shoe next to me. Thank goodness, he was reading a newspaper on the wall. My wife tells me that I could avoid this problem if I'd only make the 'adjustment' and sit down on the potty stool. I hesitate to make that adjustment; next thing you know, I'll be 'giving ' up car keys.
I'm going to stop here; it's beginning to rain and I like to walk in the rain. Actually, I like dancing in the rain.
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