Osteopathy

It’s not like I needed them anyway.

Wednesday, saw another Osteo appointment. I confess I look forward to the appointments mostly for pathetic and slightly weird reasons. 1) It’s an opportunity to get out of the house (yes, seriously). 2) I like the smell of the room (yes, really). 3) Mr Osteo is lovely and makes me laugh with his stories about his girlfriend fails. 4) IT MAKES ME FEEL BETTER.

However, I become apprehensive about appointments when I become blasé about them. Which seemed to happen on Wednesday.

Obviously, OBVIOUSLY, I forgot to check I had on suitable Osteo Pants. There’s nothing like walking into the waiting room, sitting down cool and calm, and then realising you’re wearing the wrong pants. It’s at the this moment, obviously, OBVIOUSLY, that I start sweating. Because y’know, LIFE IS JUST TOO EASY SOMETIMES.

I have my regular, not-quite-granny-pants on, I’m not trim, I’m sweaty, I need a wee and I haven’t eaten so I’m full of wind. Obviously. OBVIOUSLY.

As per usual, I was greeted and told to go through and strip down. Which I did at lightening speed, because I needed to check, um, stuff. So, I was super delighted when I looked down to see I was wearing reasonably dark pants which wouldn’t show up a sweaty front bum patch. I was dismayed, however, to see a ton of straggles of hair protruding from my pant at the tops of my legs. I mean, I tidy up, but I don’t mow the lawn because DANG that stuff itches like bitches when it grows back. Needless to say I started shoving the stray hairs back into my pants all the while praying that Mr Osteo would not forget his usual courtesy knock before returning into the room.

He knocked and entered, just as I crammed in the last hair. And wondered how hairy my ass might be, since I hadn’t checked in a while.

(Few weeks.)

It was all ok! I was fine. He was fine. IT WAS FINE.

I didn’t even panic so much when he started with back massage and I had to put my face in the hole in the bed table thing. Of course, this was the point when it occurred to me that people with colds and are recovering from mild bronchitis tend to snot every where, and it’s usually free-flowing. Which became apparent when I did turn over and pretty much snotted into the hole.

This was the point where my lovely caring Osteo realized my nose was super blocked, and decided to try and get me to say “A one way ticket to Nottingham please”, and then fall in fits of laughter. He’s such a lovely bloke (yes, sure). Of course I then threatened to snot over him. Because I’m nice too.

The good news, is that after quick manipulations, declaring how huge my Dr Marten’s boots were (“Bloody hell, they’re massive!” “Yes, thanks Andrew, my size 8 feet are huge, I appreciate you pointing that out.” “No no, *laughing* I meant they’re really tall” “Tall? Dude that ain’t nothin. I’ve got WAY bigger.” “*bemused silence*”) and clenched faces (I NEED TO WEE AND I CANNOT FART BECAUSE IF I FART I WILL WEE AND WE WILL DROWN IN A SEA OF NOXIOUS SMELLING WEE), I am told I don’t need to be seen again for 10 – 14 days. YAY ME!

It’s amazing being able to move around and stuff, and wincing only half as much as I used to. The pain is still there, but the intensity is a frillion times less than what it was. I’m to do core strength exercises; and though Mr Osteo keeps suggesting Pilates but that bores the shit out of me, so I’m sticking with hooping (and trying to see if I can find someone who does Hoopilates). I can hula hoop for about 30-45 minutes now and it’s a fucking cool workout, so I’m hoping it works the applicable muscles.

So now, just to get through the next 2 weeks, wearing whatever pants I like, and not breaking myself. And also, not wondering if he’s telling me to come back less because he’s offended by my no Osteo Pants.

It’s barely halfway through the year, and it’s already been MENTAL.

M. E. N. T. A. L.

The weddings I’ve had so far (ALL of them) have been fucking amazing. My Granddad has been here for nearly 5 weeks (he returns home in just over a week). My business has BOOMED. My polaroids and film work has gone flying. I’ve actually been able to support us a bit, financially, for the first time since Noah was born. I discovered the difference between cheap and expensive nail polish (honestly, it’s been a breakthrough).

So when Mr Osteo says “ok you need to give your body time to heal; you need to SLOW DOWN”, I literally cock my head and make that Scooby Doo noise.

Slow down? Say what now? Eh? You want me to what now?

Slow…eh?

Thing is, since I started osteopathy, I ALREADY feel better than before. Sure I hurt a bit at times, and I still ponder whether I should have readily given my crutches to my Granddad, but seriously. I’m like a MIRACLE.

Not really. But I’m blown away with how different I feel after sessions.

Unfortunately, he’s still all “yeah, dude seriously, SLOW THE HELL DOWN”.

I can’t! I literally cannot. I’m running and sheer adrenaline every weekend with the fucking awesome weddings I have. How do I slow down at a wedding? It’s kind of not in my nature. I’ve always been full of life (when I’m not on the Slippery Slope), and I get bored FAR too quickly if I have to stay in one place for too long. And then there’s all the equipment I carry around and stuff (I’ve actually LIGHTENED my load this year…) as well as the hundreds of miles I drive each month, to get to the various locations.

Then there’s the obvious; trying to make sure I actually engage with The Smalls from time to time. I’m not very good at that, but I do try. Once in a while. Sometimes. In my head.

Mr Osteo keeps saying I should try Pilates, in order to strengthen my core. I confess I fall asleep at just the mere mention of the word, and would prefer a more active way of core strengthening. Y’know, like hula hooping around the lounge. Or bouncing on an exercise ball in the garden. And yet, as I sit here with my shoulders aching again already (sorry Mr O…) and my right foot tingling with pins and needles (really sorry Mr O…) and my left hip and right butt cheek feeling rather twangy (seriously Mr O, we BOTH saw this coming though, right? …sorry…) I’m thinking all of those activities are kind of off limits.

Asking me to slow down is like asking me to be a vegetarian. I’d outright decline at first. Then when I realise the guilt trip that comes with being asked, I’d try it. And I’d probably last as long as one meal to the next (breakfast to lunch? Maybe. Depends on if there’s a packet of salami in the fridge for me to pick at). And that’s about as good as it would get. I could slow down. But truth is, a) I don’t want to and b) I don’t have time to. “Well then you should make time” say the masses of people. I would LOVE to make time, but that kind of means not working. And that’s not an option.

Anyhoo, I continue with Osteo in the hopes that it will at least keep the worst of the pain at bay, at least until “wedding season” is over and things calm down a bit. And I go into hibernation. In theory, I’m thinking that if I can just maybe drop from 6th to 5th gear until then, I should kind of be ok. In theory.

Is it wrong I still want to go bounce on the trampoline, though?