The Unexpected Fall and the Joyful Crawl

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Cliff4It has frequently occurred to me as time goes by that getting older is a lot like puberty. Your body is experiencing all kinds of new and unusual changes but they are to be expected whether you’re leaving childhood behind or getting one step closer to that shining light at the end of the tunnel.

For quite some time, I’d been experiencing unusual aches and pains. For example, in my “Cat Lady of Rolfe” post quite awhile back, it surprised me how much my feet had changed from when that fall happened a few years ago. Now my feet were puffy and strange. “Bah!” I cackled. “Drat!”


This is Lauren Bacall, famous actress and the love of Humphrey Bogart’s life.



Or a couple of weeks ago when I went to sit up to get out of bed, and my stomach was oddly lopsided. “Confound it!” I cried.

Or that I’ve been so tired lately and haven’t been able to walk as quickly as I’d like and my stomach’s been bothering me more and more frequently. “Those whippersnappers out there don’t know how good they have it!” I would mutter over my bowl of steamed prunes, clutching my shawl ever closer over my shoulders in the sweltering heat.


This is Aunt Bea from “The Andy Griffith Show” for you young Hooligans that don’t know any better…


I subconsciously started changing my inner persona from an older Lauren Bacall to that of Aunt Bea. Both women of a certain age, but I hope you can sense the difference I’m trying to portray. I thought this is what was supposed to happen! And I accepted it.


Because, guess what? My appendix burst! WEEKS ago! And it died! And then it came back to life and started attacking my large intestine!





And now, after an unexpected week in the hospital and over 200 stitches and 30 odd staples and 1/3 less of an intestine later I KNOW. Old age happens, yes, just not quite that fast, and not quite this early. I will be back and better than ever! It will take some time and Aunt Bea’s face, still puffy from the good fight, stares back at me when I look in the mirror and things will be a little slow going for awhile, but it will happen!

Life is Beautiful at every stage, and there’s nothing wrong with being Aunt Bea, it’s just not my time.

And speaking of time, I am so very grateful for that little voice that told me to get to the hospital. I’m sure it’s been howling at me for a long time now, but things happen for a reason – and only more time will tell.




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12 Commentsto The Unexpected Fall and the Joyful Crawl

  1. I have been VERY worried about you and am VERY relieved that all tests came back fine and that you are on the mend. (And I have missed corkboard updates!) Thanks for a bright start to my day … again.

    • Ruth says:

      THANK you Carmella, that means a lot. And the good news is, after alllll those bags and bags of antibiotics dripping into my body, my stye is still there. SQUEE!!

  2. Mama J says:

    Thank goodness for modern medicine AND loved the pictures!!!

  3. Melody says:

    Glad to know you are on your way to OK! Scary stuff, that! Take it easy and let others do for you. Wish I was closer to bring you Chicken Soup, and all that stuff!

    • Ruth says:

      Thank you, Melody! I confess to getting a lot of use out of my toes lately, picking stuff up off the floor that I drop so I don’t have to bend…Of course, if I wouldn’t drop it in the FIRST place…

      Thanks for your good wishes.

  4. Dennis Agle says:

    I wish I could be a good a writer about some pretty serious health issues as you are, but I really enjoyed reading your blog.
    Get better, and be careful,
    Love, Dad

    • Ruth says:

      As I told you on the phone, Dad you ARE an excellent writer and I would joyfully read anything you wrote any day of the week – even though you’re trying to steal my thunder with health problems of your own.

      I love you madly,


  5. Michele Hernansen says:

    Wow, I didn’t think you’d be back to amusing others so soon! I guess you can’t keep a good Agle down! I had grand plans of sending you a get well note, complete with polar bear (so, he is really stuffed) in shocked looking head shots (complete with masking tape). However, due to sleep complications of my own, I found myself at the fab Dr. Ahn’s acupuncture clinic yesterday. I slept 99% better, which feels fantastic. And he fixed my shin splints (Wait, you’re thinking, you can’t run! But I CAN wear improper footwear to places like IKEA (aka death traps), and overdo things ALOT).

    But I digress, this is all about you! Firstly, welcome to the Appendix-less Association of North America! The Tshirt which declares, “Does Not Come With Original Parts,” is now available to you. I’ve been waiting on mine since 1994, which leads me to guess the organization has some financial issues. Anyway, congrats to you! I’m sure you’ll win the most dramatic removal of all time award (seriously, you overachiever!). You scared the snot out of me, and your entire family I imagine, so I hope this will be your medical denouement, and will not be repeated or replicated in any way. Please do take it easy, and know I wish you the easiest and quickest of recoveries! Semper Fi!

    • Ruth says:

      There’s a CLUB? SCORE! I’ll start waiting now for my t-shirt too.

      I could use an acupuncturist too – although this past week I’ve been needled so many times (hard to find veins, apparently) already that I guess I’ll take the bad sleep.

      Last night I barely slept a wink and finally gave up at 2:16 and decided to try and post instead. Perhaps it’s because I’d spent the nearly eight days past trying to make time disappear, to get more forward in the process of healing so I could just get better and get on my feet again. When you’re in too much pain to read or watch TV, you pretty much just sit there and sleep if you can – between needles and nurses. Glad that part’s done! Knock on wood. Now to avoid infection but I FEEL SO MUCH BETTER NOW.

      Thank you, Michele! Semper Fi! (I’m not a Marine, so I don’t know if I can say that, but I support them with all my heart and gratitude.)

  6. Michele Hernansen says:

    Glad you are feeling better! I know how those phlebotomists are! I swear they came to poke me every 15 minutes the time I needed a transfusion. As if knowing my numbers by the minute was really going to save me quicker. At least the lady phlebotomist acted like she knew she was torturing me slowly and sharply… The dude was just annoyed that I didn’t feel cooperative. WHATEVER. So glad you are away from them.

    Keep writing! I smile regularly while reading. Still amazed you can already amuse! You really are a Marine.

    • Ruth says:

      I’m almost positive that the first night there it WAS every fifteen minutes. I felt like I had been asleep for hours, then BOOM. Needle! Python! And only fifteen minutes had passed since the last time…

      I’m sure they have their reasons, and since we’re both still alive I guess we can’t complain (well, we CAN, but not to their faces – just in case there’s a next time). Whatever it takes!