Two minutes

Two minutes.  For all of you out there still in the throes of “time out,” you know exactly how long two minutes is.  On a daily basis you tend to a child in the middle of a nuclear meltdown by sitting them firmly on the “naughty” mat and setting the timer on the microwave for exactly two minutes.  When it dings, hopefully the child has had time to adjust his/her attitude and you can get on with your day.

At a recent doctor’s visit, two minutes, took on a whole new meaning for this middle aged accountant with a very, very bad behaving back.  For the past 19 years I have bounced from chiropractor to neurosurgeon to massage therapist in search of the secret to calming the viscous monster that lives in the region between my belt line and my tail bone.  In the past few years, the monster has branched out, taking custody of my left hip and leg down to my toes.

Finally, after the yearlong urging of my friend Jeanne, I found myself in yet another doctor’s office.  After the last few years of constant pain, frankly I would go to a voodoo doctor and carry a small shrunken head in my back pocket if it would banish the monster from my behind.  So my new potential knight in shining armor is practicing Osteopathy (aka sadistic voodoo).  So Dr. Voodoo presses on sore spots to see which one makes me jump the highest, twists my body in so many different directions at the same time I felt it important to remind him that I was almost 50.  The prognosis from Dr. Voodoo is that I have “pissed off” the muscles in my butt which has turned around and “pissed off” the nerves running down my legs.  This was the medical term my new doctor used. I really like him.   I don’t really understand a lot of medical jargon but “pissed off” is clear as a bell to me.  On my second visit, just as we finish with the pushing on already “pissed off” places and contorting my body in less than desirable ways, I was shown a series of  stretches to help calm the “pissed off” muscle in my butt.  Really, this sadist wants me to get in a position that lights my butt on fire and hold it—for two minutes—every day!   

Being the good patient that I am, I downloaded a stopwatch onto my phone so that I could hold my position for exactly two minutes and not one nano second more.  So for the last couple of days, first thing in the morning when my “pissed off” parts are at their most pissy, I have been doing my stretches and holding them for exactly two minutes.  This morning it hit me—my bad back is no different than a bad kid.  It acts out inappropriately and I put it in time out.   Funny thing is, once I get up from the stretches, it does feel slightly better.  I’m going to be really ticked off if all I needed to do 19 years ago was put my butt in time out!

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