With baby boomers pushing 60 there will be a focus on care-giving for their aging parents. Our own baby-boomer offspring are assisting me in being there for their father, who recently fell and broke his pelvis. Interesting fact. Medicare doesn't pay for a care center stay while you are healing your own pelvis. But what else is new in the present health care dilemma? You will soon know after seeing Michael Moore's new tell-all documentary "Sicko."

Every one of my friends has advised me to take care of myself. "Now, get your rest. Remember, you need to have an outing once in a while. You have to be there for yourself as well as for your husband." It all came crashing down when my Achilles tendon failed me. The human body is a miracle until certain parts wear out or are injured and then scream for attention. I wasn't prepared to be told: ice it three times a day and take Ibuprofen for inflammation and wrap with an Ace bandage. If that doesn't work we'll fit you with crutches.

Now I would love to tell you an exciting story about how I injured my Achilles tendon but I never get any sympathy because my stories are so mundane. I bought some mail-order sandals that cut into my right heel. The right sling was made just a little tighter than the left and the stitching of the elastic insert on the sling was digging into my heel every step that I took. Never having had any ailment that I couldn't survive, I said to myself, "Just ignore it. It will go away after a while." But after a few weeks it began to get worse and I am paying the price for ignoring my own pain.

My husband expected me for my daily visit to his care center but I had to tell him that I was grounded for a while. Darn. Even when I had carpal tunnel syndrome I could walk. I did have to wear wrist braces when we went on a cruise, however. That was great for getting people to open the heavy ship doors for me. And I could walk anywhere I wanted, but not this time.

When the consulting nurse finished gathering all my vital statistics and listening to me ramble on about being a special patient who rarely takes medication, I remarked, "If talk could cure I should be well very soon." The nurse responded, "You don't sound like an 86-year-old." I replied, "I always put my best foot forward. In this case it will be my left for a few weeks." And the doctor who filled in for my own physician was a good-looking young fellow who wasn't yet jaded by old "ladies" complaining. He seemed sincere when he said it might take only a couple of weeks to get back on my feet. I had planned on walking the three blocks from my car to my husband's care center room until the dreaded back spasms began.

I thought, "At least I can sit at my computer and communicate with all those who read this column."

"Not," said my daughter who is here helping me this evening.

So I finished this in longhand for my daughter to transcribe. As she read it through she remarked, "Mom, this column is more like a diary to let off steam." And I must say that letting off steam has relaxed me. I even discovered a way to put my keyboard into my lap while propping my feet up on my computer shelf. Actually this position is one of my back exercises. Wow. Now I can write without my daughter scolding me. Just knowing that I won't be grounded from polishing this column is a breath of fresh air. I feel better already.

Georgie Bright Kunkel is a freelance writer who can be reached at gnkunkel@comcast.net or 935-8663.