You probably know the noise. Half grunt, half sigh. The one that comes out when you get up from a chair.
I made it every single time. Hand on the armrest. Push. Wait a second. Straighten up slowly and hope nothing grabs.
Some nights Carol had to kneel down and put my shoes on for me, because bending over to do it myself wasn't happening. I'm a grown man. I wired houses for 40 years. And my wife was tying my laces.
This had been going on, on and off, for twelve years. Every doctor said some version of the same thing: "It's your age, Ron."
And it's not like I just sat there and took it.
Back in the aisle, Mike still wasn't buying it.
- Mike
- So what changed?
- Me
- I got different shoes.
- Mike
- Shoes?
- Me
- Shoes.
- Mike
- Dad. Two years of Dr. Patterson. The injections. The exercises. And you're telling me shoes fixed it?
- Me
- I'm telling you shoes fixed it.