Maintaining Dignity

C'mon, let's face it! At some point in time we all have struggled to maintain our dignity. And no matter how much you try, you can't undo what just happened or what was just said. It's out there. And it always seems to come back home to roost.

It can embarrass you, or it can make you laugh. It can fill you with regrets, or you can add another notch to your learning curve. It can fill you with disgrace, and certainly not give you any semblance of grace. But once done, there is no undoing.

I watch athletes, from Little Leagues to the pros, do some incredible graceful fetes in scoring. Then they ruin it all by being unclassy and undignified afterwards, showing to those watching how much better and deserving they are than all the rest in the game. It bothers me no little to see a talented, gifted person being rudely undignified in their praise of themselves. Yet isn't that who we want our kids to grow up to be? I don't understand that. Never have! And even when I taught, many of my students ridiculed me for being a David Robinson fan because while no one doubted his class, he couldn't be a winner. Guess the Admiral got the last laugh there, but knowing the kind of person he is, he probably didn't even care that people thought that.

Maintaining dignity is difficult on a good day, and down right impossible when you are idiotic! I was an idiot when I forgot I was on the stairs and tumbled down the last few. It was impossible to lay sprawled all over the floor and yell out that you've fallen and you can't get up and still be dignified. It was really hard to maintain dignity when I was locked in the staff bathroom when the lock broke and somebody talked about calling the fire department. I didn't know if I was laughing/crying from the ridiculous situation or from the embarrassment.

It is embarrassing for people to stare at you or make comments about you when you are obese. For all of us fatties, we work hard at being dignified as we walk past, ignoring the barbs thrown our way. Those undignified people must think their comments will "help" us see the error of our ways and suddenly drop a hundred pounds or so. They think they are doing us a favor.

I have become inured to doctor comments about my size. I mean, I knew I had a problem or I wouldn't have felt the need for weight loss surgery. And for the most part, your doctor does mean well when he says something about your weight.

This past week, the pain in my buttock got so bad that I sought medical treatment. I already knew from a previous visit to my family doctor that it was due to my back. The pain got so intense down my side and  thigh that I wanted to make sure I had not broken something and was too dotty to remember that I had even hurt it. Since my family doc and my regular orthopedic doc were both out for the holidays, I had to see another physician in the office. He was a nice, older gentlemen, who examined me, even apologized for pulling down my jeans partway to see my hip movement as I walked. I maintained my dignity during that exam. But it was after the x-rays that I really had to work at it.

The results showed that I had a degenerating (but thankfully not bulging) L-5 disc. I knew that; I didn't even try to maintain my dignity when at age 13, the skateboard didn't go in the right direction, causing me to shatter my tailbone. I suffered long and loud for quite a few weeks! The tests also showed some normal wear and tear in the hip, along with some bone spurs. Again, no real surprise. When the doctor said that my sacroiliac was inflamed, I was relieved that he found the biggest problem. Maybe a pain free day was on the way.

Until he said something that made me struggle to maintain my dignity....

He basically said that because I am allergic to aspirin, my choices of treatment are extremely limited. And because of some overuse with a previous surgery, too much Tylenol gives me "rebound migraines." That leaves a shot in the hip. But according to that nice old gentleman, "women who are as thick as I am in the buttocks" make it difficult to find just the right spot in which to stick the old needle. Did he just call me a fat ass?

I smiled politely, thanked him for seeing me, picked up my purse and proceeded to maintain my most dignified limp right out the door!

It is difficult to be dignified when you are summarily put in your place, be it at work or at home, or maybe even in the doctor's office. It is especially hard to do when you are angry.

My resolution for this new year is to be a kinder, gentler version of me. I am determined to smile more, and not worry about what I cannot immediately control. But I have been angry over some things that happened at work, and even though I was furloughed for the last two weeks and had time to think about it all, I still find myself angry and frustrated. And I am down to my last twenty-four hours of trying to find that dignified demeanor I will need to take to work with me tomorrow.

The older I get, the more I realize that the tally sheet is getting longer and longer with my misdeeds. And the atonement time is getting way too short. I cannot waste my days being angry and worrying about getting even with some perceived slight. My one-on-one meeting with God is right around the corner. What will I be able to say to Him?

I want to be able to say I was dignified and graceful. Not in my movements, but graceful in my thoughts and deeds.  I want St. Peter to report that I was a good person, not an angry one. I want to walk through those Pearly Gates with my head held high!

Therefore, even though I am, and indeed do HAVE, a pain in the butt, I will resolve to maintain my dignity and forge onward.

And try not to do something stupid.