For me, I waited so long because the notion of needing a hip replacement never even crossed my mind. I thought that was for old people, or people who'd been in accidents or had a fall. I was a runner (well, at least until my hip started hurting). Even after I stopped running, I continued to walk five miles a day. I wasn't old enough, or injured enough, to need a new joint.
Until I was.
I'm not where I want to be, health- or mobility-wise, a year later. I still have trouble putting shoes and socks on. I still walk up and down stairs one at a time, like a toddler. And I weigh five pounds less this morning than I did one year ago, which is about 40 pounds too many.
But my hip doesn't hurt. I'm walking, slowly but pain-free, as many days as the weather allows.
I'm using real-life situations as excuses for not eating right, but also trying to be realistic about it. At age 65, it's not likely I'll suddenly be cured of emotional or stress-eating tendencies. But I could be making at least a few better choices.
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So we did. And it was a lovely walk.
And it was just what I needed. I'm filled with dread for the future. Mr. Trump will take the oath of office tomorrow at noon. Republicans control Congress and are determined to pull the social safety net out from under anyone who isn't a rich white man. (YES, I'M EXAGGERATING. But only slightly. I've seen NO evidence otherwise.)
People are going to be hurt during a Trump (or Pence – I fully expect Trump's impeachment or resignation prior to completion of his term) administration. I hope the pain isn't debilitating.
Just nagging enough to require a replacement.