Wednesday, April 14, 2004

First of all, I haven't posted in a very long time. I'm sorry. Mostly to myself, as this blog is a place for me to air my emotions and sort out my issues, of which I have a select few. But also to those of you who continually check my site, for whatever it has to offer you- I'm glad you're still comin' by.

Deep thoughts, by Becky Goldberg

About a month ago, I crunched my back by sleeping weird, and basically couldn't look left, right or up for about a week. I started going to the Chicago Comprehensive Care Clinic (highly recommended) for physical therapy, massage therapy and chiropractic adjustment. It has been wonderful- this clinic starts each visit with a 30-minute deep tissue active release and trigger point massage by a clinically trained physical therapy assistant. Not your local spa's Swedish massage- but covered by insurance! During my initial evaluation I learned that the muscles supporting my cervical spine are/were very tight, my L5-S1 joint was pulled slightly higher on the right, I have patellar tracking and crepitus in my knees, and my piriformis muscles are very tight. Basically, all that means is that I need to strengthen the muscles in my legs to help support proper knee alignment, and that I spent/spend many hours in front of a computer (despite the recent lack of blogging). You probably have similar problems which the Chicago Comprehensive Care Clinic could help you out with but I don't care because this blog is about my problems- so nyah nyah nyah. Get your own blog, hippie.

Click here for an in-depth analysis of the piriformis muscle. However, suffice it to say, the piriformis muscle roughly runs from the base of the spine to the top of the humerous bone of the leg- across the middle of the butt cheek. Now, if you've ever tried stretching out your butt cheek, you know that it's not an easy proposition- especially if you have any sort of back problem. Since I have a tight piriformis muscle, which is adding to my L5-S1 inbalance, pulling my hip out of whack and creating subsequent problems down both legs, I have to concentrate on loosening it up. My chiropractor prescribed threapeutic massage- so today I was supposed to have, in essence, a butt massage.

I have never had a butt massage. I don't know that I ever wanted a butt massage. I love my DH, but I don't even know if I'd let him give me a butt massage if he wanted to- not that he's ever asked nor I ever offered. So, I chickened out and got subaquatic ultrasound for my self-inflicted though not intended stab wound in the left palm (another long story seemingly unrelated to weight loss yet involving a rather good batch of guacamole). Tomorrow, however, I'm getting a butt massage. It's for my own good.

Now, the weight-loss related portion of the story: In discussing my apprehension with the therapist, I realized that I've always seen myself as The Fat Girl. I mean, I used to buy a women's size 16 (not just a normal 16, a plus-size 16 which is like two higher than the normal 16). I'm now buying size 8. There is a certain identity in being The Fat Girl, and today I came to a certain realization that that part of my identity has died- or is at least in a semi-permanent coma. I'm no longer The Fat Girl (go ahead, Cara, say it- 'I'm not Josie Grossie any more!'), but I'm so used to being big- can I redefine myself as something else?

Take for example, a situation I encountered on numerous occasions at summer camp. Girls sit on other girls' laps when there aren't any more seats, or if they're just being cutesy- it's completely accepted, right? I was always on bottom- too big to sit on someone else's lap. Same with crunching 6 people in the back of an Israeli taxi ('yes, yes, nahag, there's only 4 of us')- always on bottom. I don't sit on DH's lap. Until the last 4 months or so, I've weighed more than he, so I would obviously crush him if I dared put all of my weight on him at once, right? I step onto elevators gently, or with 1/2 of my foot in the elevator, and 1/2 just outside, so that it shouldn't bounce down a bit as I get on. I'm careful to get out of cars gracefully as I shift my weight ever so slightly to the foot on the ground- passengers won't realize we're no longer dragging the exhaust pipe if I do it slowly enough. I only tip-toe on grass when wearing heels because my massive weight will surely leave gopher-size holes were I to actually use the rear portion of my shoe. etcetera, etcetera, etcetera...

There is a certain identity, The Fat Girl, that I believe is disintegrating- and I'm not really sure I'm prepared for it. What of a world where I can jump on the bed without breaking springs; where I can share an air-filled mattress while camping and not be the one on the ground while DH hugs the tent ceiling; where I could, but wouldn't, jump in an elevator without fear of plummeting the 16 flights to the lobby. A brave new world, that The Svelte Girl is learning to venture into.

I had hoped this post would be more profound. It was as I lay half-naked on a slightly warmed massage table receiving trigger point massage to my cervical muscles. If you relate to any of it, I'm glad. If not, consider yourself enlightened to my personal revelation.

Cheers.

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