The hairdo, not an actual hive with bees in it.
Around two years ago, I noticed when I ran that my feet tingled. A lot. It seemed like they were always on the verge of going numb. This lasted for over a month before I went to the doctor and by then my tingly feet were NOTHING compared to my hypochondria.
My doctor sent me to a nerve specialist who said I did not have nerve damage. They didn’t get better, but hearing that helped ease my hypochondria flare up.
After a year of no change, I went to a podiatrist and he said that I have Peripheral Neuropathy. He said it’s slow but progressive and it won’t get better.
I asked him if that meant that one day I wouldn’t be able to walk anymore. He was very cheery and reassuring when he replied: “I have no idea”!
I was home for lunch earlier this week and my feet were in full on tingle mode.
Me, feeling all hypochondria-y: What happens if I can’t walk when I’m old?
Randy, who is very used to our ‘medical’ discussions: I will push you in a wheel chair.
Me, feeling a little panicky: What if you’re too old? What if you can’t push me?
Randy: We’ll get you a Hoveround.
Me: I’ll need velour and a beehive.
Randy: You’ll need what?
Me: If I need a Hoveround when I’m old, I’m wearing nothing but velour and my hair will need to be in a beehive. And I’ll need cat eye glasses with rhinestones.
Randy: Why wait?
Me: If I had kept that one shirt you got me for Christmas a few years ago, I could have practiced. Remember that one? Black velour? Animal print collar and cuffs? That one that a 90 year old woman in Miami would have declared ‘gaudy’?
Randy: Oh yeah. How come you never wear it?
Me: Dude, that was donated before New Year’s.
Randy very often buys me clothes that I love. He’s pretty good at picking out shoes as well…however, when he sucks at picking out clothes, he sucks at a professional level.
For instance, he found an outfit that he wanted to buy me for my 40th birthday. He picked out a rockabilly sundress that was white with red cherries on it. He picked out red pumps that probably would have accelerated my nerve damage. He even picked out little red cherry barrettes.
HAHAHAH. I am all for wearing what you want, age appropriateness be damned…but there is a fucking line and that line is WAY before wearing a dress that shouldn’t be worn by anyone under the age of 12.
I guess I will just have to wait and see. It’s possible when I’m 90, you’ll see me in a rockabilly dress, beehive hair held up with plastic cherry barrettes and a velour throw. I wouldn’t get too close, though..I’ll probably run you over with my Hoveround.
Pretty sure Randy will still think I’m hot.