Can’t complain

My foot kind of hurts. That’s not a complaint, it’s a fact. However, because my foot hurts, I went to a podiatrist, who poked at it with needles and squished it around and asked things like “Does this hurt” and said things like “You might feel some discomfort” which is doctorspeak for “this will hurt like hell but I am not going to say that because you’ll walk out.” I am not complaining. It’s a fact.

This is not my doctor. He is cleaner than this.

Why not? What’s wrong with complaining?

I have nothing to complain about. I can go to a specialist if something hurts. Not everyone has that luxury. Once he is done with his poking and prodding, I can go home and prop up in a comfortable chair with a glass of tea. Not everyone can do that. I don’t have to put on a uniform or uncomfortable shoes and pretend to feel well so my boss won’t fire me.

I realize that, and what a privilege it is. Sometimes it shames me. Not in that “I gotta quit with being comfortable!” but more in a “Why aren’t I using this to Do Good Things?” I don’t feel guilty about privilege, about being comfortable, but I recognize it for what it is, and know that I am not any better or more deserving than someone who isn’t so fortunate.

This prosperity…is it a blessing? it could be a curse, really. It could be that I am so comfortable that I forget where it comes from and start thinking I deserve it, then cop an attitude toward God when something doesn’t go my Precious Princess way.

All along, in our 28 years of marriage, I have said that I would give it all up and live in an old single-wide housetrailer if it came to that.  All this stuff is gravy, you know. gravy makes you fat (spiritual fat is complacency, don’t you think?). I want to remember to be thankful for what I have, and that God has me here for a reason, and this stuff needs to be used in a way that glorifies and honors Him…

Even I, who loves gravy, yes I does, would not do this.

even the shot in the foot, and the uncomfortable boot. I am not sure how to use those things…maybe it will come to me.

On a completely different subject, I was informed yesterday that if one put antipersperant antiperspirent  …that stuff you use on your pits to cut down sweat… under your boobs, it will help there as well. how about that!




About rootietoot

I do what I can.
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3 Responses to Can’t complain

  1. Bella Rum says:

    I’m going to try this again. I just posted it, but it disappeared.
    My sister told me that antiperspirant trick. Isn’t that something? Useful information.
    Keep that foot propped up. Hope it decides to feel better.
    It annoys me that we’ve practically stopped using perfectly good words like “pain” and powered down to “discomfort,” or we say this is going to be a challenge instead of damned impossible. It seems that those words are there for a reason and those other words serve to dilute their meaning. It’s a conspiracy.

    • Rootietoot says:

      Oh I agree! My foot has gone from kind of uncomfortable to needing crutches through the afternoon. He warned me it be uncomfortable for a couple of days. Discomfort… hurts like hell. But in a different way, I can tell it’s from having a needle shoved in it and wiggled around.

  2. Judy says:

    I learned about that antiperspirant under the boobs a looooong time ago–thank goodness! Enjoy your comfortable life–you’ve earned it!!

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