Knackered Waxes and Wanes with Benzos

   Hey there.  Knackered here.  Did you see it?  It was quite the galactic event.  A once in a lifetime deal.  Alas, the knackered household was not on the path.  Actually, the only path I’m on these days is the one I share with you.  Nevertheless we did reach totality.  It happened in living color right in front of the T.V.  The only atmospheric conditions going on in our part of the world were the usual clouds and drizzle.

   If you were in the right place, at the right time, looking in the right direction, I hope you wore your special glasses.  If you thought that dry, irritated, itchy eyes were a symptom before, frying them while star gazing could lead to even worse results.

   As I observed all the waxing and waning, I couldn’t help but reflect on the same cosmic occurrences going on in the tapering Knackered body.  Once an exercise affectionado, these days I struggled to lift my carry on as I reluctantly boarded my last plane ride.  While I did, somehow  survive the trip, I am concerned about my strength during this time of my life. It’s been waning for two years now, and I fear that I’ve become a waxing weenee.

   While I once pumped plenty of iron, today I would struggle to pump up my bike tire.  Although I would have to have another MRI on my head before I ever actually climbed on the thing.  The once chiseled physique has undergone  a drastic transition.  Though not too bad (I’d like to think), my six pack abs closely resemble a classic muffin top. The whole devolution resembles one of those tragic Grecian statues now on display in the museum.  There are definite signs of a one time greatness, now sadly diminished by ravages of time and too many cuts.

   I can trace much of this back to a an event, over two years ago, when someone told me that ‘we need to get you off this stuff’. Little did I know at the time what would follow. But it’s  been the gradual, steady decline in the strength of the Knackered 'power bod’ that really concerns me.

   This demise was sharply evident most recently along the walkway up to our front door.  We had a nasty freeze last winter that knocked out two prominent shrubs housed in ginormous pots out front.  My wife pointed out they were ugly goners and had to go.  She enlisted my help, for what it’s worth these days.  The plot was laid out.  I was to assist her in lifting each of them into a little red wagon that our children (now pushing fifty) had abandoned long ago.  We don’t have a wheel barrow.

   With grunts and groans, coming from my side of the wagon, each pot was hoisted into the lift and then wheeled out to the community bin in the alley.  Once there, the idea was to lift them to the opening and dump the contents, thereby saving the pots.  We lifted until I reached the point of maximum arc.  Fearing that I was about to give out and leave my wife holding the bag (er pot), a much younger neighbor stepped out to rescue my side.  I sadly watched as my wife and he lifted, dumped and set the pot  back down.  Ah, humiliation right beside our own garbage can.  What would the neighbors think? 

   Following that was the whole bark chip incident.  My wife made an announcement, as she went out the back door, that she would return with bark chip bags for the flowerbeds.  No actual mention was made of my involvement.  She returned later with ten heavy bags in the rear of the auto.  Although she said that she had had help, I could almost imagine her hoisting, hauling and driving home.  And I did provide some assistance. It was quite a feat carrying those babies ten feet to the stacking pile near the side of the house.

   I’d like to say that the weekly humiliation had come to an end, but we went to the grocery this AM to purchase some large, bulky, and yes, heavy items.  My job was to push the cart, something I’m getting quite good at.  I can lean on the thing and stay upright.  She, in turn, did the loading and unloading at the self check out. Real people don’t actually work here any more.

   I can proudly say that I was instrumental in pulling out my debit card and helping load the stuff in the car.  Once home, the process was reversed before I collapsed in the bathroom.  I had remembered to hydrate before we left.  Gotta keep up on that stuff.

   While all this waxing and waning goes on, one thing remains certain.  None of us are going to be alive for the next big eclipse.  But, rest assured, your taper will have finally come to an end.  You can take those glasses off now.