When we moved to our present lodgings, we were offered the use of office space across the hall from our suite. We aligned three bookcases inside the outer cubicle panel of our office. These are substantial bookcases, each one six feet tall, 30 inches wide and 16 inches deep. They form an excellent wall to the outside and make our books easily accessible from the inside.

There was one little problem, though. Their initial placement left too narrow of an opening to our office, I felt a like a reclusive hermit at the back of his cave. I saw what seemed like an obvious solution, just move the bookcases westward far enough to align with the end of the outer panel. I filed that thought in my mental to-do list, waiting for the right moment.

Last Friday I decided the right moment was never going to come along and announce itself, it was up to me to take the time and do it. So I did. Remember, these are heavy bookcases holding heavy books. I thought I had a solution for that. There were a couple of folding tables just sitting there in the hall, I took one, set it up between the bookcases and the desks and pulled the heaviest books out of the first bookcase and set them on the table. Then I manouvered the somewhat lighter bookcase into the desired position and reloaded the books onto the shelves.

I repeated the process with bookcase 2, and then bookcase 3. Then I folded the table up and put it back where it had been sitting and stepped back to admire my handiwork. Just as I had hoped, it gave a much more open feeling to our little office space. Why had I waited so long to do it?

The next day I sat down at the table for dinner, prayed for the meal and spent some time contemplating the food my wife had prepared and realized I just could not eat a bite of it. Things went downhill from there. I spent most of a week sleeping a lot, trying to drink enough to keep myself hydrated, but not eating. Not working either. I was weak, felt myself in a brain fog, and could not get up from a chair without a lot of help from my arm and shoulder muscles and when I was up on my feet my wakling was very shaky.

It took several days to sort out what was happening to me, but the message finally became clear. My abdominal muscles were telling me “You have mistreated us terribly.”

Today, one week after moving the bookcases, I feel almost fully recovered. I can arise from a chair with no problem, walk steadily, I have eaten three meals, and I have made a start at getting back to work.

What was I thinking? How did I expect that a guy in his mid-eighties whose main physical activity is punching the keys on a computer keyboard could do such a thing and feel no consequences? I have two husky young grandsons, why didn’t I ask them to do it?