BONES OF CONTENTION

A few weeks ago I underwent a bone density test procedure. The results recently arrived in the mail. Although I’m doing okay for a woman in my age and ethnic group, I’m a standard deviation below a “young white woman” of age 30. Well, no shit. Since I’m almost twice that age, I am happy as a lamb to be just one deviation below the age-30 standard, but the doctor recommended I start taking Vitamin D and Fosamax, regardless of my euphoria. (Taking calcium is out of the question, according to the urologist who removed the evil kidney stone last year.)

Osteoporosis runs on Mama Bore’s side of the family. She has a tiny frame and the broken bones to show for it. I have the body build of the Germans on the paternal side of my gene pool--big feet, big legs, big mouth…you name it and it’s attached to a bunch of big bones. I used to consider this a curse, but now that I’m no longer a “young white woman” I have come to embrace the idea of being a sturdy kind of gal.

This past weekend, Big Bore told me he admired how I seem to enjoy working hard outdoors (as opposed to working hard inside, which I definitely do not do!). He said this as I helped him build up a compost pile, crawled under the spruce tree to rake out leaves, and hauled around mulch. Even though I’ve evolved into an “old white woman,” my deviated bone density hasn’t slowed me down too much when it comes to hanging out in the yard. I think the D in Vitamin D stands for Dirt.