Okay, so here we are facing an invisible enemy that has superpowers. Every moment of every day we are now drenched in media, public and social, that reminds us just how bad everything is and how much worse it will become in the following days. What’s a person to do to keep up happy dialog with partners, express joy to children whose intuitive capabilities are sharp, and take care of the sick, the aged, those unable to care for themselves? One step at a time.
Speaking strictly for myself, that’s the only way I know how to get through hard times. But even after decades of practice, this current problem is creating new opportunities to wonder, “How do I get through this?” It is, after all, much like everything else in life, a very personal journey.
Just prior to the Governor’s urging that we all stay home, I had three doctor appointments, follow-ups for various physical problems. Those appointments were all canceled in quick succession, leaving me to my own medical interventions.
Thankfully – and I say that without a hint of irony – I have been in physical therapy off and on for the last, oh, 20 years or so. I’ve had so many mechanical issues over the years that nearly every joint and at least one long bone have been in rehab. Slowly, ever so slowly, each episode of re-educating my brain to tolerate the pain associated with getting soft tissues to respond has also equipped me with a new chapter in my personal, medical, movement encyclopedia.
There have been months of mending, stretching, embracing the process that says one day soon walking will be better but, in the meantime, “Hold for 30 seconds, go ahead, you can do it, Marilou.” And yes, with steady, hard work, improvement did come, but here’s the shadow, returning me to not quite what I was before the injury or overuse.
Aging process be damned.
Now in the void of professional guidance to help me build up and manage problems with my right ankle, left shoulder, L4 and L5 scoliosis, bone spurs in the neck, and the stiff muscles that come with essential tremors; I refuse to give up. I’m working out at home with a vengeance.
Over the last four years, I’ve collected all the pages of “how-to” perform movements intended to strengthen one’s body parts, as distributed by the clinic(s). I have resistance bands in nearly every color, small hand weights, and even a twin bed turned into a PT table. Add to that the music and well, “Let’s get her done!”
Turning the tunes to maximum force (well as loud as the dog will allow without yapping), I Zumba my way throughout the house doing warm-up routines. Nothing does a body and soul better than music. I sing at the top of my lungs, and take deep cleansing breaths in a type of yoga I created just for me that incorporates gospel, R&B, and rock music. And in my head, I visualize myself some 30 years younger and stronger, long hair bouncing around – man I could dance all night long. At the end of a tune when I open my eyes and come back to the here and now, everything feels more bearable. The pains are easier to cope with, while the spirit is buoyed once again.
After a few dance tunes, I return to the repetitions necessary to complete a full-body workout. I count and check-off what I’ve done in my mental notebook of all things good. I feel refreshed, empowered, mood elevated, hope renewed.
For me, each morning begins the same way. Doing a body scan, smoothing out my thoughts and visualizing fully compliant muscles, strong bones and accepting once again – this is my job. It is my responsibility to take care of my head and body. It’s the least I can do for my family. They have other things to dwell on, they don’t need to be worrying about my health and wellbeing.
I’ve got this.
Until I can return to the clinic and hear those words of encouragement once again, “Well done Marilou,” I must try my hardest on my own. As James Brown said, “Get up offa that thing and dance till you feel better!” Trust me, it works.
‘I’ve Got This’ Mattapoisett Life
By Marilou Newell