One of the many things they don’t tell you as you get older. . . some of those silly things you used to do, like, umm, hula hooping, is no longer a safe sport. . .in fact, it can end up causing you to recline on your couch for days on end, just wishing someone would take you out in a field and shoot you.
Since I am now11 days past the hula hooping debacle of 2010 my poor little self has still not gotten put back together. Seriously, I could have put Humpty Dumpty back together quicker than my own body. I had several people tell me that I needed to just bite the bullet and go to the chiropractor. But I am kind of stubborn like that and made a deal with myself. It went like this:
If you just give it one more weekend of just sitting on your butt, doing some stretches and taking it easy; all will be better come Monday.
But what if I am still in pain?
Okay, well I doubt you will be but if that is the case, find a chiro and go. Deal?
And last night as I was trying to read in bed, all reclined and propped up I could still feel the pain shooting through my back. I finally got to sleep and dreamed of a time when I could out hula hoop everyone and still have normal function in my lower back/hip area. But this morning I felt like Mick Mars after a night of thrashing on his guitar and waved (will minimal pain) the white flag of surrender.
Okay self, you win, I will go see a chiropractor. And here is where I whine about the fact that I had go through the motions of finding a new doctor here. I find one, he confirms some of what I thought but says it is all my lower back, that my hips are out of whack but it is my lower back that is all kinds of jacked up. X-rays, discussions and several adjustments later I am starting to feel more normal. Of course, it still hurts like heck and I am getting more adjustments for the next four weeks but let me just say this, I can now get up and actually put weight on my leg without wincing.
My dreams of entering into the Olympics in the hula hoop category are crushed but it was a nice dream anyway. Now I am off to buy Ben Gay, a walker, a support brace and possible some special shoes that will give me just the right amount of support while I walk around.
Getting old isn’t all that it is cracked up to be, in fact, my back seems to want it’s money back.