I have a physical body. But I ignore it most of the time.
I prefer to read, write, or color in an adult coloring book than get up and move. But as I age, I see the folly of my sedentary choices.
I injured my knee three months ago. It happened when I lifted a heavy box to place it atop a stack of boxes soon to be almost as tall as me. The last few inches felt like a Herculean feat. I could feel the force required in my lower limbs.
That amount of force placed too much pressure on my left knee. The knee seemed to slip and slide uncomfortably as I heaved the box up the last few inches. Then the pain began.
The pain made it difficult to fall asleep. If I lay on my left side, my knee hurt. If I lay on my right side, my knee hurt. I’d finally fall asleep, only to wake up in the middle of the night with searing pain.
I took Ibuprofen and shrugged off the injury in my body-disconnected way. “It’ll get better on its own,” I thought. About a week later, I heard “something” click back in place when I laid on my back with my leg extended—not my usual bedtime posture.
But the pain did not abate.
My acupuncturist treated my knee during my regular bi-weekly session. He didn’t place needles in my knee. But it felt like he had embedded a giant log beneath the skin. Acupuncture is usually a pleasant experience for me. This time, the pain was worse than no treatment at all. The treatment reduced the pain for a short while only.
5 weeks after the injury, I saw my medical doctor. The pain had lessened by still bothered me at night or if I walked too much. My left knee now presented as stable at least. An x-ray didn’t reveal a critical issue.
My doctor referred me to physical therapy. I waited 7 weeks for my first appointment. I still had pain so I went.
My physical therapist tends to be blunt and impatient. I understand. I’m slow to follow instructions. My brain feels perplexed, “Left? Right? Up? Down? Resist? Relax?” It takes a while for my brain to catch on. I don’t mind her forthrightness. I like her clarity.
I felt encouraged as she laid out the facts. At least someone else is physical and can tell me what to do. She believes I can restore strength to my battered knee which in addition to the box episode, has taken the brunt of two previous accidents.
The first thing I learned was not to put weight on an injured weight-bearing joint. That’s probably obvious to the average person, but not me.
Oblivious to the needs of my body, I had moved four rooms of furniture around to prepare for ceiling repairs just a few weeks after the injury. Then I moved it back when the repairs were complete. I repeated the process two weeks later so the ceilings could be painted.
My knee and all my joints hurt like hell each time. But that’s me—pushing my body instead of being kind to it.
Now I know that was stupid of me. It aggravates the injury, which only makes it take longer to heal.
I also learned the difference between weight-bearing and non-weight-bearing exercises.
Non-weight bearing (good for my knee):
Swimming
Biking
Swinging (my leg)
Weight-bearing (bad for my knee at least for now), to name a few:
Walking
Running
Skipping
Hopping
Dancing
Team or racket sports
I can walk for a while without pain. My physical therapist told me to stop walking whenever the pain began again. I typically push myself to go to the next store despite the onset of pain. I want to get all my errands done. My body will just have to tough it out. That’s an attitude, she said, I must now change.
My therapist almost fainted when she saw the size of my backpack-style bag. The bag itself is hefty even when empty. But that day, it had my filled 18-ounce water bottle, my A5 planner with a sturdy cover along, my chunky wallet, a bag with my epi-pen and antihistamines, and my hairbrush along with smaller accessories.
I don’t always carry all that in my bag. But sometimes I do. And the bag is too heavy even without the excess.
My physical therapist made it clear I cannot carry or lift excessively heavy items because it puts weight on my knees. Got it!
You probably know all of the above. Most people aren’t detached from their bodies like me. But thanks to my physical therapist I feel optimistic. Maybe even I can learn to be kinder to my body.
Are you kind to your body? I would love to hear! Let me know in the comments.
[Photo by Tim Samuel]
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Until Next Time
We’ve had torrents of rain off and on all day. A puddle is beginning to appear at the end of my cinder driveway. I’m grateful for the rain, which makes the flowers grow. But I sure would like to see some sun right about now.
Thanks for reading. It means a lot to me!
Much love and best wishes to you.
xo Sandra
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Dear Sandra,
I hope you don't feel alone in this experience! Actually I think a lot of people are quite disconnected from our bodies, a lot of the time, including me. I have had a similar learning curve as you, especially after breaking my humerus and tearing a rotator cuff after a particularly weird fall a couple of years ago, which was likely precipitated by a body disconnect. I also got physical therapy for about 8 weeks, which I found immensely helpful, though I had to move through my resistance and awkwardness. Thank goodness for skillful and honest physical therapists!
What I've found helpful is to make a practice of listening more carefully to my body. It holds a lot of wisdom, but often I'm not tuned in on that level or am not slowed down enough to be aware of it. It's kind of like meditation in motion -- inviting myself into noticing what my body is experiencing, and what it might be trying to tell me. The more I do it, the more in tune I get. But just like meditation it's easy to fall out of practice... and then gently return. So yes, kindness is the key!
This is quite similar to me and I have Fibromyalgia so I really have to rethink things about being kind to my 77 yr young body