Treading Lightly

She pulled the pad to her while forcing her right eye open by prying it apart with her fingers—ripping out a few eyelashes in the process. Thankfully, her left eye wasn’t also crusted shut. Just the right.

She squeezed her eyes open and shut a few times to get them to focus before trying to read his message. Nothing. Nada. The pad was blank.

So…he still wasn’t talking to her.

“Damn it! And damn you, Martin, for starting this little war!” Although she was angry at her ex, her heart sank because she hadn’t gotten a note from Craig. He always wrote something before he left for school, and she loved his sweet notes. They started her day and made her smile.

There’d be no smiling today. “Thank you, you rotten, selfish bastard!” she said aloud to her ex, hoping he could hear her.

On to Mr. Coffee. Once she was fully pumped up with high octane, she could begin her morning ritual.

Her morning ritual had changed dramatically these past few months.

It had all started when she hurt her back. Thinking it was a pulled muscle, she’d tried to ignore it, but within minutes it had gotten so bad she was crippled in pain. That’s when she’d figured it might be more than a pulled muscle. She didn’t have one ounce of medical training, but she didn’t have to be a medical genius to know that if one minute she’d been fine, and the next she could barely move, things weren’t right. When she could finally get herself out the door of her apartment to see the doctor, she’d begged him for muscle relaxers, hoping to ease the excruciating pain.

“Not so fast, little lady,” Dr. Harvey Rogers had said.

“What? No drugs?” she’d shrieked in panic.

“Yes, I’ll give you a prescription, but by the way you’re standing, I’d like to get some X-rays, too.”

“X-rays? It sounds expensive. Is it covered by my plan?”

“Yes, Janine.” He’d rolled his eyes. “But does it make a difference? If this were Craig’s back, would you ask that question?”

“Of course not! How could you even ask me that? If this happened to Craig, I would do anything he needed. No matter what the cost. And you know that!”

“Yes, I do. And you deserve the same quality of care. So don’t tick me off again by asking another stupid question, Janine. If I tell you I want an X-ray, just go get the damn X-ray!”

She’d smiled at him. He’d been her doctor for as long as she could remember. “Yes, sir.”

The results had come back a few days later, and instead of telling her over the phone, he’d made her come back into his office. She had no idea what to expect—and her mind had included a plethora of possibilities—but what he’d told her was the furthest thing from her guess.

If she’d been paying attention to the clues, she would have known before being told. She’d known Craig was growing, but it seemed her height was diminishing as well. Then she’d had that sudden pain—stopping her completely. It had hurt to stand, walk, sit and lie down. There was no position she could assume that would give her relief. It hadn’t felt like a pulled back muscle. It had been too debilitating. In her heart she’d known it was something else, which was why she’d dragged herself down to the doctor’s office to begin with.

“Osteoporosis,” she’d shrieked when Harvey Rogers gave her the bad news. “How in the hell did I get osteoporosis? This is ridiculous. There must be some mistake. I don’t have osteoporosis.”

“You do, and it’s bad, Janine. I’m not playing here. One sneeze and you could break your spine. Clip your pelvis into a counter’s corner, and you could be in a wheelchair for the rest of your life.”

At the time she’d thought he must be kidding, and had said, “Stop making this up, Harvey! I’m really in no mood for jokes. I’ve got a deadline, and stress up my ass! I don’t need your stupid gags today.”

“Honey,” he’d said far too seriously for her comfort, “I’m sorry, but I’m not joking. Your spine is collapsing upon itself. You didn’t pull a muscle, honey, you fractured your spine.”

She’d remembered looking at him as if he were nuts. “Check the report again, Harvey.”

“I’ve checked and double-checked it. I even put a call in to the lab’s head technician to see if there could possibly be some mix-up.”

“And?”

“And, there’s no mix-up, no mistake.” The look he’d given her was steeped with sadness and concern. “My dear, you’ve got the stubbornness of a two-year-old toddler, the eating habits of an eight-year-old child, the figure of a sixteen-year-old boy, the mentality of a thirty-year-old wildcat, the mouth of a forty-year-old sailor, and the bones of a seventy-five-year-old woman.”

He’d tried to use humor to help defray the emotionalism of the diagnosis, but she’d been thrown into a state of shock when she’d found he wasn’t kidding around. “How did this happen?”

He’d shrugged. “You’re genetically preprogrammed.”

“What the hell does that mean, Harvey?”

“You’re tall, thin, Caucasian, and breast-fed a child you had later in life. You’re the poster child for this disease.”

“It’s a disease?” she’d gasped.

“Osteoporosis? Sure is, honey,” he’d said quietly. Too quietly.

He’d scared her. “So what happens now?”

“Well,” he’d said slowly, “now you have to use that stubbornness of yours to get yourself on a regimen of eating right and exercising to get those bones as strong as we can.”

“Can we do that?”

“We can try. But I have to tell you, there’s no easy or magic solution to this, Janine. You’re going to have to work at it. Diligently. And daily.”

She’d made a face.

“Look, if you need their help, I’m willing to put a call in to your mother and also one to Martin if you feel you need support with this.”

She’d gasped again, only this time, not in shock but in horror. Clutching her hand to her chest, she’d said, “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Oh no?” he’d said, eyeing her directly. “If it’s the difference between your doing as I instruct or not, you’re damned straight I’ll call in the troops. This is serious, Janine. I can’t stress this enough.”

“Okay already, I get it, Harvey. Cool the threats and theatrics.”

“You need to follow my orders or I’m going to call in the hounds.”

“Hounds my ass…they’re more like pit bulls!”

“Like you’re not one of those yourself,” he’d said with a chuckle. “Now listen up and listen good…” was the start to his long list of things she’d had to eat daily, do daily, and take weekly. He’d also given her a prescription that came with a warning list so long it had scared the hell out of her. After taking the pill she couldn’t lean over, bend over, lie down, eat fiber, take medicine, drink anything other than water, or ingest food, to list a few. It was scary, and had made her realize the magnitude of this whole thing.

Harvey had been right. It wasn’t a joke.

After that, she’d done some pretty thorough research via the Internet, and everything he’d said was true and accurate. Everything. From her genetic predisposition, to her chances of future fractures and damage based on that current level of bone density. He was also right on the money with his ordered advice on how to fight any further damage through diet, exercise, and the latest medication he’d prescribed to help stop and possibly reverse bone loss.

Now, as he’d said, it was her job to follow that strict course of therapy.

That fateful day, on her way home from Harvey’s office, she’d stopped at a grocery store and bought milk, yogurt, ice cream, and one of each of their stocked cheeses—Romano, Parmesan, Monterey Jack, mozzarella, provolone, Swiss, jalapeño jack, American, Muenster, white cheddar, and regular cheddar in mild, medium, sharp, extra sharp, New York, and Vermont.

The other thing she’d done that day was call a used-sporting-goods shop to find a reasonably priced, secondhand treadmill. The first call was all it took.

“I’ve got plenty to choose from, lady. Come on down and you can try ’em out,” the man had said.