Saturday, May 16, 2009

my area

As it turns out, the muscles around the very top of my right leg have all suddenly gone on strike. Maybe they are unionizing. They might want less shows and more pay, and I'd have to say that isn't the worst idea in the world. But whatever it is, they need to just come out and say what they want so we can get on with our negotiations, because how it stands right now does not work for me.

Not one bit.

I don't find it cool that a tendon in my hip flexor is pulled. As is my adductor, which is basically my inner thigh (why is just typing inner thigh mildly embarrassing?). And not to be outdone by all it's cohort muscles, my hamstring is feeling pulled as well, which is just great. And the dear hardworking, faithful right leg gets all of it, while the left leg is free to move without any pain at all, lucky duck.


So, I went to the physical therapist on Saturday for him to take a look and he was the one who discovered the pulled adductor. You know...sheesh, are you really going to make me say it again? Fine. The inner thigh, if you will. But I hope you won't. Anyway, he did. And by that, I mean that he had to get all up in there and massage it which resulted in more embarrassment for me, since it is very very close to my area.

I call it that because once I was driving in the car with my brother and his friend, Joe, who was behind the wheel. A fly flew right in through the window, promptly smacked it's little body into the windshield and ricochetted right into Joe's crotch, spending it's last few moments there. Joe took in the situation and said with some alarm, A fly just flew into the car and died in my...(at this he scrambled for a suitable word)...area!

And we all lost it.

Not because the unfortunate loss of a fly's life is funny, but because of how Joe referred to his crotch.

Right, so this middle-aged stuffy physical therapist was now massaging my area and it was very weird. Whatever, it was medicinal and I know they do that kind of thing everyday. The difference is that I don't get it massaged by strangers every day--really just Tuesdays and Thursdays--and so telling myself that it is normal for them helps a little but not enough to keep me from remembering that it is absolutely out of the norm for me.

My hip was still hurting today, to the point that walking was painful, so I went to a sports medicine doctor who also happens to be a chiropractor. I was wearing my really tight skinny jeans and so threw a pair of shorts into my purse in order to be able to wear something more appropriate for all of the poking, prodding, and stretching I anticipated.

As soon as I walked into his office, I mentioned that I could change into my shorts and out of my ridiculously skinny jeans and he told me not to bother.

Well, I wish I had bothered, because all of the prodding and stretching and adjusting I endured while still in my tight difficult-to-really-move-in jeans was much more bothersome to me than if I had taken the few seconds to just change into my shorts in the first place.

Okay, maybe it would have taken more than a few seconds to change, considering the skinny jean factor and how you more peel them off than anything else, but still.

The kicker, though, was when he showed me this "revolutionary yoga stretch" that was supposed to work wonders for my hip.

Um, it was a simple lunge. A lunge. You know, the kind I have been doing in jazz class since I was 9 years old. He demonstrated in all of his khaki and loafers glory, complete with his pants riding up and revealing some white scrunched socks and hairy ankles. Then it was my turn. Unbelievably, the revolutionary yoga lunge was really hard to do in my skinny jeans. And even though he kept cajoling me to get down lower in the stretch (which ordinarily would have been absolutely no problem at all), I finally had to just explain to him that I couldn't do it in the jeans.

That it wasn't going to happen.

All this to say, my body hurts.

I am still doing the show, but walking with my butt sticking out a little because that seems to keep my hip from hurting so much. You can only imagine how attractive this looks and feels.

If you don't mind, a prayer thrown in my direction would be great.

Meanwhile, I will be the one with the bag of ice on my area.


Michele said...

Hahahaha! Only you, Jessica, could make suffering funny! I am really sorry that you have had to endure these guys all up in your area! I will pray that God heals you in His own non-intrusive way.

christian said...

Well you and Jason are blogging down memory lane today! What a hysterical moment that was, and by the way - thanks for omitting me from the story.

Sorry you are in so much pain - that really stinks. We will pray!

peaj said...

The toughest thing about reading your blog is restraining myself from writing the first thing that comes to mind.

And the second. And sometimes the third, fourth...

So, here we are, on the twenty-seventh thing that crossed my mind. And it is basically what Christian said. Well, the part about sorry you are in pain, not the part about omitting me from the story, 'cause I think I'd remember if I were there.

So, number twenty-eight is: did being a dancer always mean surrendering reasonable expectations to privacy and personal space? Because I think that is something they should tell you up front, when you are a little girl in a frufru or whatever they are called.

Great post, as always.

Jess said...

Christian--ha! I thought you were there, too, but I couldn't quite be sure--I'm sorry for not stating your presence! Actually, maybe you were there instead of jase--or was it the four of us?

Peaj--first of all everytime I type your name spellcheck really wants to change it to 'Peak,' which would be a funny name. Second of all, yes, not a ton of privacy is involved in being a dancer. It's really not so bad though, but might look that way from the outside. And p.s. It's tutu:-)

kathiek said...

Great post, Jess, but I am sorry about the pain...I will pray!

jason said...

Jessica, how dare you omit Christian from Joe's area???

Jessica Latshaw said...

Can't blame that one on me--I am pretty sure Joe did that himself!!!

peaj said...

"Peak" - that's good. I'll change my name to Peak and become a motivational speaker.

"You can maintain Peak Performance!"

Mama Bear said...

You need to eat more hamburgers....I will bill your insurance for the profound medical advice,

Jessica Latshaw said...

Ah, Jamie--sage words. A hamburger is the apparently the cure all around these parts!