I had lunch with a friend last week. I've known her for years and count her among my dearest friends. I don't know EVERYTHING there is to know about her, but I DO know that she is extremely intelligent and very caring and giving (for a person of her political persuasion.) I admire her greatly, and the fact that she chooses to be in my company on a regular basis makes me feel ever so better about myself. But at lunch, I learned that she has a dirty little secret - one that made my jaw drop, quite possibly with food still in my mouth, and rendered me speechless. That doesn't happen to me often, to which my poor, beleaguered husband will attest.
Speaking of husbands, my friend's is a keeper. He is tall and charming, and has a lightning quick wit that can be wickedly edgy and I find it hilarious. I can't keep up, my mind becoming muddled with age and my wit not so quick on the giddy-up anymore, so I just sit back and enjoy it. He has a bad back, so I feel a certain camraderie, though I have never been flown home immobilized by back pain, nor have I had surgery on my back. I concede that he has suffered far worse than I. All the more surprising that he shares in this dirty little secret.
Speaking of bad backs, I was in The Healthy Back Store recently to purchase an inversion table. I have lost at least a half-inch from spinal compression, otherwise known as GROWING OLD, and one of my disks is squished enough to cause regular pain. I'm willing to try anything. The store manager, Don, was very knowledgeable and set me up for a test run. As I hung from my ankles, he made sure my face did not get red, my head did not explode, and my feet did not lose all feeling. Don checked on me often, but I was utterly relaxed and found being upside down heavenly, which proves what I have suspected for some time - I am now an OLD BAT. I was later treated to 30 minutes in a new, state-of-the-art massage chair that left me feeling a bit as if I had cheated on my husband. I was so relaxed, and Don and I had formed such a bond, that I told him my friend's dirty little secret. His jaw dropped, his eyes widened, and he was momentarily speechless. He had never heard of anything so alarming. I nodded smugly, feeling justified in my initial reaction. In Don's informed judgement, this was a sin against all that is holy. Also the Phylum Chordata.
Speaking of judgement, I try not to do that to my friends. Possessing, as I do, an opinionated controlling, OCD genetic heritage, this is a constant battle for me. Did I overreact to my friend's revelation? Did I hurt her feelings? Normally, these questions would drive me to distraction until I could apologize for my rude behavior and beg for forgiveness. But in some cases, like those that could cause severe bodily harm, being a friend means putting your foot down. I cannot live with myself if I do not insist that this matter be addressed. I go to bed at night worrying that my friend and her husband lie sleepless, tossing and turning in agony, unable to restore their souls with peaceful slumber, sinking into the depths under the weight of this torturous truth. I want to be supportive, but I have to follow my conscience.
Speaking of being supportive, or NOT, this is the dirty little secret: My friend and her husband are sleeping on a 37-YEAR-OLD mattress! And I am simply putting my foot down!
