Sleight Of Hand

/ Diane Henders

Lately my body parts have been trying to slip things by me.

The other day I shook a vitamin pill into my palm and then turned my hand over to place the pill on top of the bottle so I’d remember to take it later.  I heard the *click-skitter* of the pill falling on a hard surface, but even though I hunted everywhere it had apparently vanished into thin air.  Presto!

Then, for my next trick…

I sighed and shook another pill into my palm, and once again I turned my hand over to put the pill on top of the bottle. I’d seen the pill in my palm and I didn’t hear it fall, but when I moved my hand away… no pill.

What the hell?!?

My grasp on sanity is tenuous at best, and by that point I was afraid I’d lost it completely.  Fortunately, I checked my palm and discovered the pill craftily clinging to my skin by its sticky gelatin coating.

But palming pills isn’t my body’s only trick:  My mouth has been getting into the act, too.  Apparently whenever it spots an approaching tea mug, it sidesteps about half an inch to the right. You’d think I’d notice something like that in the mirror, but nope; everything looks normal. I know it’s happening, though — every time I take a drink, I end up sloshing tea down the left side of my chin.

And don’t even get me started about trying to get the aforementioned daily pill into my mouth.  If not for the fact that everything else seems to be working fine, I’d be wondering if I’d developed some serious impairment of my motor control.

Just to add insult to injury, a few days ago I cut my finger while I was trying to install my painting in its new frame.  And while I was peeling the Bandaid out of its wrapper, I got a paper cut.

Yep, an injury inflicted by a Bandaid wrapper.  Somewhere up there, the gods of irony are rolling around on the cosmic floor and peeing their pants laughing.

Come to think of it, that might explain the two inches of rain we’ve had this week.  Let’s hope I don’t perform any more entertaining tricks, or I might trigger another biblical flood.

If you need me, I’ll be out in the workshop sawing up a few cubits of wood…

55 thoughts on “Sleight Of Hand”

  1. Aah yes, a fellow 55’er. A kindred spirit. We don’t pop pills at this age, we DROP pills.

    Let me tell you the highlights of my day. Morning is…interesting. Reminds me of that hit song, “Waking Up Is Hard To Do” (or was that “Breaking Up…”?). The cobwebs don’t clear out of the mind until the caffeine kicks in, that caffeine I should have quit years ago. My first walk down the stairs in the morning sounds like Chinese New Year (AKA, the barrage of firecrackers), various joints popping and snapping, reliving human evolution over the course of 10 minutes before I walk fully erect.

    Lunch and/or dinner usually involves dribbling food on myself, or nearly spilling something (and occasionally succeeding…just after I’ve settled in at the table). I walk into a room, forgetting why I wanted to enter the room in the first place. Finding my keys or one of my phones is like a bizarre game of Where’s Waldo? played with household clutter and failing eyesight. Naps are getting more frequent and unpredictable. Yes, more dribble.

    And those pills. Those nasty uncoated pills keeping the hypertension at bay. Small and impossible to swallow. And terrible tasting, once they stick in the throat. That is, if I don’t drop it on the floor out of my pill keeper (since I need the visual feedback that hey, yes, I already did take the pill today) or like last week, when the iced tea tipped on the table and got into Monday and turned the pill into mush.

    Time for my nap!

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    • I’m laughing, but it’s a rueful laugh. What you say is FAR too true. Especially the ‘joints popping’ thing. If my life ever depends on being able to sneak up a staircase, I’m doomed — my knees sound as though somebody’s crushing bubble wrap under them with every step.

      A nap sounds like a mighty fine idea!

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      • I’m a 55’er in an 80 year old house. “Sneaking” is not an option. Everything creaks and snaps. So does the house, for that matter. My bubble-wrap joints (love that!) were recently joined by this odd little “squish” in one of my knees when climbing the stairs. And the gastric noises…oh lawdy…just the sound of dinner percolating in my gut an hour later sends the loved ones running for cover. Food coma is also a “thing,” and it’s lights out for three hours if I eat pasta.

        But hey, look on the bright side. We’re still here. We ain’t pushin’ up daisies. And the loved ones aren’t cashing in our life insurance policies. We’re not going down without a fight!

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  3. The disappearing pills are bad enough, but inflicting wounds trying to fix a wound??? Ouch! If I hear of Biblical proportion flooding coming from the Pacific Northwest….your name come into mind!

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  4. Diane, You never fail to make my day!
    Been there- done that, but with different devices!
    Am s-t-r-e-t-c-h-i-n-g #14 (really hard to do) as I cannot be without. read most twice, so get to work! Bleed later…….The world is waiting for #15!
    Love you and your words ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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    • Aw, thank you so much, Ellen! I’m grinning from ear to ear now. And I’m glad you get a giggle from my blog — I love to make people laugh! (Preferably with me, not at me; but I’m not too picky.) 😉

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  5. My nemesis is furniture legs. Furniture legs on the way from bedroom through den to kitchen refrigerator for something sweet. Several times a night. I am surprised I have any toes left after all these years. The furniture seems to shift positions at night but it is all where it’s supposed to be in the morning. Maybe I should get one of those little refrigerators for the bedroom and avoid the sleep walking gauntlet every night.

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  7. You are funny! But, can you explain the strong winds as well? 🙂

    “Palming pills”, I love it. I’ll try that trick one day, but as we are pet sitting three dogs right now, I can’t take the risk of dropping any of that on the floor.

    Whatever you do, don’t saw or cut wood. Actually, don’t do anything requiring dangerous equipment, until you manage to drink tea without spilling again!

    Once you dribble something along a certain part of your mouth, everything will make its way down that path. Now I’m speaking from experience. Weird how that goes.

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    • Ha! That’s what it is: I’ve developed a creekbed on my chin. I’d better spackle that up before it turns into a waterfall. And I’m definitely staying away from power tools for a while! 🙂

      As to the strong winds, well… maybe the gods ate too many beans…?

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  9. Getting a paper cut from the Bandaid is classic! That takes talent…either that or the gods really are having a good laugh at your expense. Bastards😂. Go shake the cooties off in the neighbors yard. Maybe the gods will move on to them.
    I always get “the dribbles” following a migraine. And I get most of my migraines when there’s a barometric pressure drop before a storm. Did your mouth changing locations coincide with the two inches of rain you got? Or is that still just my brand of freaky, hahaha. Well I hope the imps that we’re loosed on you get bored and move on quickly.
    Have a great week!

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    • Thanks, Michelle! I’ve heard of lots of people who have atmospheric-pressure-induced migraines – Calgary is known as the ‘migraine capital of Canada’ because its weather changes so fast and frequently. I’ve always been glad I don’t get migraines!

      And hey, that’s a good thought about shaking off the cooties somewhere else. So far I haven’t met anybody here who deserved that; but when I do, look out! 😉 I hope you have a good week, too!

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  10. Just ain’t gonna get into all the crappy things goin’ on with me. Pill dropping is a world wide problem. And you can’t find the darn things no matter how good your eyes are. I really don’t think its age. I have seen and listened to people much younger who I wouldn’t trade places with for a million bucks. And “one ball” could be like Reggie Chow. Love that guy. I am up to book 12 (re-reading). They were almost like reading for the first time. I sat here laughed, cried and thoroughly loved every word. And perhaps you need to stay out of the work shop. You need those fingers. Been there, done that on the CT surgery. It is great but I hate that you can’t get in the sun without very good sunglasses.

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    • You’re right, I’m quite attached to my fingers! I’m VERY careful in the workshop — I’ve known too many guys who let their attention wander for a second or two and lost part of a finger.

      It’s so cool that you’re re-reading and still enjoying the series! I’m thrilled and flattered to hear that it still holds up the second time around. I love my characters, and I’m always tickled when other people love them, too. Reggie is so much fun to write — I never quite know what’s going to come out of his mouth!

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      • my son actually lost the tip of his bird finger. got a tad too cocky when reflooring the walkway upstairs. said when he got through screaming, cursing, bleeding and paying a huge hospital bill he realized he should have used the guard on his saw.

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        • Ouch. Yep, it’s really easy to have a mishap – it only takes a second. I once sawed through the power cord of my circular saw when the material I was sawing slipped out of its clamps and fell. I jumped back (circular saw in hand) to save my toes from the falling piece. Then I got it all secured again and tried to make my next cut but… no power. I was just glad I’d cut the cord and not my leg. (And the guard was on that saw.)

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  11. I feel your pain, Diane. I’ve been checking to see if I had a stroke ever since I started dribbling out the right side of my mouth when brushing my teeth. I hope your “deficits” (is that what they’re called?) go away in short order!

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  12. Pro pool shooters/billiards players do the inverted bifocals trick. Heard about that years ago from a guy who’d always win…by one ball. That was his nickname. And also the reason for it. Or so he said. I took his word for it.

    Ah, dropping stuff. Tile floors in the kitchen. And new quartz counter tops. The rule, now, is, “You drop it, you broke it or dented it.” We’ll need (more) new glasses soon. Considering the switch to plastic. It bounces instead of shattering. Well, usually.

    I call it “Late Onset Klutziness Syndrome” or LOKS for short. Yours sounds more like EOKS. You know, Early Onset, etc. You’re lots younger than I am, after all. 🙂

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  13. When I have to look under things for stuff I dropped I usually have to look up because I am down on my knees or lower. What makes that difficult is that my bifocals are on the bottom of my lenses and I can’t see small things like pills or small screws. An electrician friend had his bifocals on the top of his lenses for all his close up overhead work. I might have to look into that. Cutting yourself with a bandaid wrapper was a pretty good trick. Do you do all of your own stunts?

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    • Sadly, yes. I do all of my own stunts. The sillier, the better.

      That’s a great idea about the bifocals on top. I’m at the stage where my eyes focus perfectly… 50 feet away. I can nearly count the needles on the fir trees outside, but I can’t see for shit anywhere inside the house. I have at least 20 pairs of glasses lying around, and they all focus perfectly at whichever distance I don’t currently need. My next step is progressive lenses, but that would mean I’d have to wear glasses fulltime, and I LOATHE WEARING GLASSES! Whoever designed this aging process needs a slap upside the head. *end rant*

      Thanks, I feel better now. 🙂

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    • I totally get that. Back in the days of BCS (before cataract surgery) I wore lineless bifocals. Since the prescriptions were almost exactly the same for both eyes, I could turn my glasses over and wear them upside down when doing close work under a car. It wasn’t comfy by any means, and it looked totally goofy, I’m sure, but it got me out of a bind a couple of times. Now, my distance vision is perfect and I wear small readers for close up work. Which I can get in legit, wrap-around, industrial safety glasses, by the way, both clear and tinted. I wear the tinted ones for shades when driving.. Much better. But the other way was still doable.

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  14. Those are good tricks. Maybe you could do a few magic shows. 😉

    but I’m a little concerned that if you start sawing wood that you’ll need more than a band-aid or two. At least the pending flood will wash the blood away, but still …

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  15. I feel for you I really do.

    After killing both feet, last week on two different occasions I’m happy to say I have no additional scars this week.
    This week it appears to be the turn for fingernails. I had them painted for my trips to Paris and figured I might as well have them done for Spain yey but I’ve lost a thumb nail and a finger and on the verge of loosing a second. As it’s just gel colour over my own nails I don’t really mind having trimed but nails they don’t look to bad. I fly home on Sunday so to have made it to the halfway point of the second week I did pretty well that’s almost two months with out a fingernail breaking for me a record.

    My friend was delighted with the books I gave her but as yet hasn’t started yours yet.

    I loved book 14. What a fab ending. And loved it said book 15 coming soon. I shall wait impatiently for it while reading other things.

    It’s rained a lot here in Spain this past week but its still nice lots of time spent with family and friends

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