Couldn’t shake the feeling. Couldn’t figure out why. There is always a reason but sometimes we just can’t put our finger on it.

As July turns to August each year there must be something about the relationship of the distance of the sun to the earth. It doesn’t matter what state I reside, it begins to feel as if fall is upon us, even as we suffer through the sweltering summer heat in Louisiana or Mississippi, or the dreaded fear of an impending hurricane in Florida. Somehow I am keen to the change in lighting within my home and environment. From year to year I forget until it’s suddenly August and the feeling returns.

This year has been a bit different in that I unwittingly injured myself while helping my grandson out of the pool. It was such an effortless motion that I had to really think about why I woke up in fairly severe pain the following morning. The area over and around my scapula hurt so badly I stayed on the heating pad most of the day. Like most, the little physical pains of aging aren’t worrisome. This, though, was different because I didn’t have feeling in three fingers on my left hand. I couldn’t grip anything, open a jar, pull on my pants, or hold a glass. I went through my nursing neuro checklist to determine if I had had a stroke. When I was satisfied that was not the case, I took two Tylenol and the day off to do nothing.

The following day nor the next was any better. Monday I went to the doctor and we think the diagnosis is radiculopathy from discs in my neck rubbing against a nerve. She gave me an injection in my hip and a boatload of medicine. “Plan B is to refer you to pain management and perhaps a neurosurgeon,” she said.

So here I am four days later unable to shake the feeling. My daughter and family were moving this week, so I decided not to inform her of my situation for fear it add to her stress and anxiety because I was keeping my grandkids while they moved. We have had so much going on and with Covid 19 it has been easy to forget what day of the week or month we are in. And then it hit me. Steroids. Although I am truly only allergic to one medication, Levaquin, Steroids and Codeine are on my “danger list.” Steroids affect me so adversely that my husband cringes when I have to take them. Even my daughter says, “Mom, no, not the steroids!” Often the dreaded steroids make me meaner than mean. And I mean to the point even I don’t like myself. But this time it has affected my mood. I realized at that point the feeling I couldn’t shake was a result of the steroids and that realization actually boosted my mood because I knew I’d eventually feel better. (I’m still experiencing weakness, numbness and tingling in my fingers but I believe that will improve with time.)

I have continued to go about life this week with my positive attitude and God by my side every step of the way. And still … just can’t shake the feeling. So I began to think about the day of the month it is and the light bulb didn’t just go off, it was glaring. It’s August and my birthday is in August and I hate my birthday. Eighteen years ago on my birthday I was sitting beside my mother in a nursing home as she was fighting for her last breaths on this earth.

And so I have finally put my finger on that color blue. I’ll be ready when this time rolls around next year, although I do hope it will be without Covid-19, loss of jobs, moves, etcetera.

I recently told my husband everything has been so hard this year. My steady as a rock husband said, “Sharon, it’s called life. And as I’ve said many times before, no one is dead or dying, no one is in jail, on drugs and our girls aren’t dancing the pole, so don’t let that color blue sneak up on you.” Such a wise man I’m married to. (Wise and humorous. And if the girls are “dancing the pole” I absolutely would not want to know about it!)

With that humor and reality check about my health and unpredictable, complicated life, maybe a boat ride to watch the sunset is in order. It’s a plan that won’t be out of the blue because I choose yellow, red and orange to brighten my already sunny disposition.