• Skip to primary navigation
  • Skip to main content

cosmicgirlie

spouting all the crap you never say out loud.

  • Home
  • Cosmicgirlie Crafts – Shop
  • It’s ME!
  • Say hi
  • Blog

Osteopathy

If you’re going to have Non Osteo Pants, you better OWN THEM.

June 28, 2013 by cosmicgirlie 6 Comments

One would think I would have enough common sense to realise that, ace that Zumba is, it will probably break you before you become efficient at it. I’ve learned that now. I get it. Especially after I lay in bed not moving, but feeling various parts of my body randomly panning with pain. It’s kind of funny (once you’ve stopped crying about it), because the pangs of pain happen without even moving. It’s almost like a kind of Body Pang Roulette. It’s fun. No really.

Anyway, needless to say this meant I was on the phone to Mr Osteo to see if I could get a last minute appointment, ahead of Saturday’s wedding. I am terrified of the idea of starting a wedding already in pain, as I know I’ll be immobile by the end of it. Which, y’know, sucks.

Book an appointment with a top quality Osteo for the following day? Errrrrrrmmmmm no. Fully booked.

And then somehow I got SUPER FUCKING LUCKY; I got a text at late o clock last night telling me I’d been booked in. GTFI.

Wake up the following morning and I realise that not only do I NOT have Osteo Pants at the ready, but I don’t even have a bra fit for the general public. I grabbed a shower after the school run (lunchtime appointment) and stared blankly at my wardrobe.

All manner of pants, but not even any “boy shorts”. And even the biggest of pants were the ones which I wouldn’t wear in a Tampax commercial. Cute and stuff, yes, decent ass coverage, yes, but it’s safe to say that if I was wearing a Tampax tampon, I’d probably have a mouse tail.

Why the hell do even some of the biggest pants come with the tiniest of gussets? I put my burger in a bun so I have a full package and everything stays in one easy container. Otherwise there’s just no point in having the bun, surely. Mind you, having said that, I’ll gladly take bacon as it comes, but that’s neither here nor there.

After much deliberating advice discussion debate with some friends on Facebook (including my mom), I settled for a regular pair of grey and pink pants, with the only bra I could get away with. Which is hot pink and doesn’t fit properly. I was doing ok until a bent over in front of the bathroom mirror to check my arse and crotch, and discovered a hole in the arse of the pants. No, it wasn’t a forced hole.

One pair of pants remained. A trusty pair, SC & Co, but not exactly toned down. Hot pink and neon orange. Striped. Teamed with my neon pink bra. Which didn’t have cups as full as I’d have liked. Fuck it, put on a pink t-shirt and call it fashion. I was feeling almost smug and confident until I took my clothes off in the osteo’s room, and he actually exclaimed “Holy shit! That’s bright isn’t it?”

Fuck. My. Life.

I told him he’s fucking lucky I’m wearing anything as remotely as presentable as this, given the last minute nature of the appointment. And that all other pants and bras were fucking hideous. And that if a boob pops out, he’s not to laugh directly in front of me.

About 20 minutes in, with his hands sunk deep into my stomach fat muscles, he was talking about not being bothered by the underwear, but confused as to why women often wore non matching underwear (i.e. black pants, white bra). He also wondered why I was so worried about my choice of pants. I almost yelled at him, incredulous that he couldn’t understand the importance of Osteo Pants.

“Osteo Pants? What are those?”

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh shit. Now I had to explain Osteo Pants, in that they’re decent pants which cover the necessary parts but still access to the necessary parts. Which he thought was a BRILLIANT idea and I was all “YES! FUCKING RIGHT!!” and he was all “YES! I SHOULD MARKET THIS!” and I was all “Don’t ever google “Osteo Pants.” and he was like “Seriously, wtf, Osteo Pants are already a thing?” and I was “Dude I fucking OWN THEM.”

And then he rolled me over and stuck his fingers into my butt cheek, and that was that.

Filed Under: Osteopathy

Because SCREW YOU OSTEO PANTS.

May 31, 2013 by cosmicgirlie 1 Comment

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.

Filed Under: Osteopathy, Pain

“Slow down?” Dude, that’s like giving up meat.

May 23, 2013 by cosmicgirlie 1 Comment

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?

Filed Under: Osteopathy, Pain

Osteo Pants (Saga): PWNED.

May 17, 2013 by cosmicgirlie 3 Comments

Finally. FINALLY. I was down to my third and final pair of osteo pants, and all I could do was pray to the Gods of Underwear that THIS WOULD BE IT.

I couldn’t afford another session of my vagina eating my pants. Or having pants which looked like I’d just pissed myself. Or pants which were a bit, um, “flappy”.

Wednesday evening’s appointment, I put on my size 12 Sloggi “boy shorts” pants, made sure the pant liner was a tiny one and not likely to give me an unexpected wax, and headed out. THANK THE GOOD GODS it was all ok. Dry, covered, patch-free, liner hidden and IT WAS GOOD. I spent the entire session trying NOT to point out how effective my pants were being. Which was hard, because when you’ve finally cracked something which has been bothering you, you want to tell people about it, no?

Well I didn’t tell him, but I did grin a whole lot.

I guess, on reflection, that may have seemed a bit weird, as I naturally felt more comfortable and relaxed throughout the session. I didn’t feel the need to wave my arms around a whole lot (“Look! Up here! I’m wearing a crap bra which my boob is probably going to fall out of because this bra is stupidly a bit too big, but that’s got to be better than watching a vagina eat pants, right?”) which was great. I relaxed better, which would obviously mean more effective treatment.

But I do recall grinning a whole lot.

I wasn’t sure if he was hinting at something, when he then started telling me the story of a girl who had been stalking him an awful lot. Like, pretty much tailing him for weeks, like a psycho. I then wasn’t sure whether to tell him that I’m not a psycho, and that I’m just really happy that my pants are big and not sweaty. But I thought that might sound weird to someone else, so I just opted to continue grinning broadly.

Then he told me he had broken up with his girlfriend, but then got back together with her soon after.

At this point, I decided to change tactic and went back to waving my arms around a lot, which I think helped, because then everyone stopped thinking about my pants. Not that he was thinking about my pants, but it reassured me in pretending that no one was thinking about my Osteo Pants.

So well done, Sloggi, you are the winners. Now I just need to order a load more but in different colours, because I don’t want Andrew to think I wear the same pants all the time, because that would be gross. Much like at today’s appointment (yes, 2 appointments a week for a while because my body is fuuuuuuuucked) when I dropped my trousers and realise I was wearing, what looked like, the same pants. They WEREN’T the same pants. It’s just that I’d taken a gamble and bought two pairs of the Sloggis, because they looked so comfy. So naturally when Wednesday was an Osteo Pants success, I planned on wearing the other Sloggis for today’s appointment.

…hey Andrew? If you ever read this? I was not wearing the same pants twice.

Filed Under: No idea, Osteopathy, Pain, Thoughts

Don’t EVER ask your “friends” for Osteo Pants help.

May 13, 2013 by cosmicgirlie 3 Comments

Copied from my Facebook wall last week…

 

Jay: There needs to be either a) a clothing site with specifically designed Osteo Pants, or b) a site designed for black women butts.

Just saying.
Like · · Unfollow Post · Share · Promote
2 people like this.

Nathan: And just what’s so special about your butt, missus.

Actually, don’t answer that.
23 minutes ago · Like · 1

Jay: *Smirk*
23 minutes ago · Like

Melanie: *soapy butt reveries*
18 minutes ago via mobile · Unlike · 1

Lizzie: I bet google could help you find all kinds of sites dedicated to black women’s butts…
15 minutes ago · Unlike · 1

Laura: Is this what you’re looking for? It’s what I WOULD BE LOOKING FOR – http://www.amazon.co.uk/Jsport-Womens-Plain-Piece-Burkha-Surfas/dp/B007SU1IMO/ref=sr_1_1?s=sports&ie=UTF8&qid=1368190194&sr=1-1&keywords=burkini

Jsport Women’s Plain 3 Piece Tunic Burkha-Surfa’s
www.amazon.co.uk
Jsport Women’s Plain 3 Piece Tunic Burkha-Surfa’s
8 minutes ago · Unlike · 1 · Remove Preview

Jay: OH MY GOD Laura Driver!!!!!

…I wonder if it would arrive before Wednesday…
6 minutes ago · Like

Laura: It’s also black so if you did get the ‘fanny sweats’ it wouldn’t show. *apologises for phrase ‘fanny sweats’*
5 minutes ago · Unlike · 2

Nathan: Is that the same as the burkhini of which Nigella Lawson used to be fond? Or is the Burkha Surfa a whole new range of contrived watersports wear?
3 minutes ago · Like

Jay: I am really glad you are all sensitive to my Osteo Pants needs.
3 minutes ago · Like

Laura: Totally off topic … but do you think that Nigella gets the FS?
2 minutes ago · Unlike · 1

Nathan: I just googled osteo pants and it said “did you mean astro pants”. Well I didn’t, but I am now intrigued enough to want to.

I think Nigella gets the fanny shimmers. She’s not a sweating type.
2 minutes ago · Unlike · 1

Angel: I have a butt vs. pants problem too.
2 minutes ago via mobile · Unlike · 1

Jay: *Unfriends you all*
about a minute ago · Like

Laura: The word shimmer coupled with fanny has just made me snort. Enough of this tomfoolery.
A few seconds ago · Unlike · 1

Nathan: Fanny Shimmers is a Dutch volleyball player of that I’m sure.
9 minutes ago · Unlike · 1

Laura: Pretty sure I’ve heard someone say “And here comes Fanny Shimmers, grappling with her ball”
7 minutes ago · Unlike · 1

Filed Under: Conversations, Facebook, Osteopathy

Useful Thoughts On Osteo Pants

May 10, 2013 by cosmicgirlie 5 Comments

Ok. Ok, I thought it was ok. After the first two sessions of being Very Unprepared, I was like, “yeah, YEAH I GOT THIS. I know this shit now. I am DOWN WITH THIS SHIT.”

Osteo has been brilliant. I had my third appointment, and greeted Andrew by leaping out of the car at him (he was watering the garden), and trying not to launch myself at him in an enthusiastic bear-hug. “LOOK! LOOK OMG I CAN MOVE!” (Here I did a really questionable high-kick.) “And, and, I can bend and stuff!!!” (Here I may have done something that looked like a 1950s hand jive twist, as demonstrated by a white person trying to be a black person trying to be white.)

And then I did that bouncing up and down on the spot thing, which I often do when I’m enthusiastic and overly happy about something. So, y’know, almost all the time.

After the stresses of previous sessions, I was determined to be prepared this time. Front garden trim: check. Decent bright pink Osteo Pants (I adore brightly coloured underwear. I teamed them with a green bra. It’s called fashion. I’m sure): check. Clean and fresh: check. Gas free: che- uh, yeah, good enough. And even more so, given my current (new found) agility, I was determined to get to a point where he could say “Yes! You’re doing brilliantly!” So naturally, I was a bit of a live wire.

As I followed him into the consultation room, I suddenly realised my horrible, horrible, HORRIBLE mistake. All that bouncing around had made me rather warm. Stood there, still fully clothed and discussing running around at Saturday’s wedding, I suddenly realised my  pants  were, um, damp. Horny damp? Nope. That would have probably been less embarrassing. He left for me to undress. Whipped off my trousers to see, to my HORROR, huge sweat patches all around my crotch. Omfg.

Soooooooo you know when you have sweaty ass prints on a chair?

Yeah, imagine that, but on your bum.

Your front bum, no less.

Originally I decided to pretend to ignore it, but as he once again hoiked my leg under his armpit (Why god, why? Are you laughing at me? Is this payback? Did I miss one too many Sundays as a kid, when I rebelled against Sunday school? Geeeeeeze.) I had to apologise for being a bit sweaty, and blamed it on the beautiful weather.

Yeah, that’d work, totally.

Until, I ALSO realised that sweaty pants also make for flappy pants.

FLAPPY. PANTS.

Oh. My. God.

That thing where, fabric goes all weird when it’s damp, and seems to temporarily lose it’s elasticity, and just doesn’t sit right (in the right place). Well. Oh God.

While he did his usual manipulations, there was a moment of quiet while he fixed my back. With my face in the hole in the bed thing, I chose that moment to ask the most stupid question to ever ask any kind of osteo ever in the history of ever.

“Sometimes, when a person comes along and is lying on your bed-table thing, do you ever think to yourself that you really just don’t want to have to touch them?”

In my MIND, I was thinking perhaps he’s dealt with people who, y’know hadn’t washed for maybe a few months. Or perhaps, someone who had an extra arm and 14 nipples. When the words left my mouth, I was wondering what the actual fuck was wrong with me. After him mumbling something about professional training (because obviously) and the usual standard of clients being quite “normal”, he then went on to say the last words I expected.

“Well usually, I suppose I get a bit wary when someone comes along, say, straight from work, and they haven’t cleaned up yet. You know, like, they’re all sweaty.”

All. Sweaty.

Like my disgustingly sweaty Osteo Pants. NICE.

That was the moment when I decided to not ask any more questions, and to also research my pants a little better. I contemplated some kind of manoeuvre where I might be able to slide through the hole in the bed table thing, across the floor, under the door and never reappear again. I also thought about making sure I ALWAYS have baby wipes in my bag, regardless of where I am or what I’m doing. I always have spare pants; that’s like some unwritten Law Of Woman. But exactly when or how I’m supposed to change my pants when my osteo is RIGHT OUTSIDE THE DOOR is beyond me.

I’m one pair of pants down, and have 3 pairs to go. They are big and black, pretty sure I can’t go wrong.

In other news, I’m now signed off to fortnightly appointments. This reassures me!! YAY I can move! …unless he’s trying to tell me something.

Shit.

Filed Under: Osteopathy, Pain, Thoughts

Next Page »

Before Footer

Follow on Instagram

Copyright © 2023 · Wellness Pro on Genesis Framework · WordPress · Log in

This is a demo store for testing purposes — no orders shall be fulfilled. Dismiss