Connor took a bowling class at college last semester and has become somewhat of a fanatic. I can’t say I’m displeased! We got him a bowling ball for Christmas.
Mark’s bowling ball suffered some damage from a ball return recently. He had it repaired but was told not to expect the repair job to last forever. I got Mark a new bowling ball for Christmas.
I’ve been complaining for a year about needing new bowling shoes. While at the pro-shop buying Connor’s Christmas present, I pointed out to Mark a pair of shoes that I liked and thought I might buy after Christmas. Mark got me new bowling shoes for Christmas. (We should be on the preferred customer list at the pro-shop now!)
We’ve got all this new stuff. And Connor has been suggesting for a few days that we should all go bowling. And since he and Kacey are home on break from school right now, the four of us went bowling last night.
The only one not all that interested in bowling is Kacey. She inherited my old shoes, but other than that has none of her own equipment. And whenever she bowls, she complains afterwards that her fingers hurt. And still, she bowled a 165 with a house ball and beat all of us in one game. Connor and Mark are just getting used to their new bowling balls. That was their excuse. My new shoes were great, but I am still struggling with pain from my recent back strain and so I blame my substandard performance on muscles that refuse to relax.
My chiropractor says I’m suffering from Sciatica, most likely the result of a pinched nerve. Last week the worst pain was in my lower back but over the last few days it has moved to the back of my leg. While at the chiropractor, I learned some stretches that are supposed to provide some relief, but so far, they haven’t done much. I was miserable as I bowled my first game. I could barely bend over to release my ball and was limping around in pain. I was almost ready to call it quits when I discovered something about the hard plastic seats that surround each set of lanes. While I was sitting and waiting for my next turn, if I sat forward just so, the edge of the seat dug into the back of my leg and put pressure on my strained muscle in such a way that felt SO amazingly good. Finally, finally something that provided a reprieve from the radiating ache that hadn’t let up for ten days. I wondered how I could get that chair home with me…
I was so happy to sit there, stretch my leg forward and bounce it up and down on the seat edge that I stopped paying attention to the game. Kacey finally asked me what I was doing and I explained that I had discovered a way to (at least temporarily) help me stop being such a whiner.
I suddenly remembered this little wooden ladybug that we had at home. It is supposed to be used for giving massages but no one ever uses it and its whereabouts were uncertain. I thought about how good it would feel to jam that wooden ladybug into the knot of muscles in my leg and I asked Kacey if she knew where it was. She said, “Maybe in the upstairs linen closet, or maybe in the downstairs linen closet, or maybe in your bedroom closet.”
“So you don’t know where it is,” I stated. She shrugged.
“You should book a massage at the chiropractor’s office,” Mark said.
“I don’t want to spend a hundred dollars to have a stranger dig into the back of my leg,” I said. “Besides, I’ve already paid for two chiropractic visits that have been marginally helpful.”
I was beginning to accept that the chiropractor was right. I’m getting older (just a tiny bit) and things like this are just going to take longer to heal than they did a few years ago.
“You should sit on a tennis ball,” Kacey suggested.
I felt my face light up. “That’s genius,” I said! I knew it would be perfect, and I just so happened to have a container of tennis balls in the laundry room at home. (That’s where you keep your tennis balls, right? You know, for putting in the dryer with down jackets and such!)
Once at home, I immediately grabbed one of the fuzzy yellow balls and positioned it underneath my thigh as I sat in my recliner. Such a simple little object was the answer to my prayers. Two visits to the chiropractor, many sleepless nights and plenty of complaining and it turns out that all I really needed was to sit on a tennis ball.
I slept well last night for the first time in almost two weeks. The first thing I did when I woke up was find my little yellow masseuse and take it with me to the chair to loosen things up again. I was happy, happy, happy!
Apparently this is a well-known remedy. WHY didn’t anyone tell me this sooner?
As I prepared to leave for work today, I put my tote bag on the kitchen floor and tossed in some things to help get me through the work day – a big bottle of water, my lunch and… (light bulb!) my little, yellow masseuse. Bella was whining for some attention, so I scooped her up and carried her to Kacey’s room so she could snuggle up in bed with her. I came back to the kitchen and grabbed my bag and almost headed out the door when I realized that Lucy wasn’t on my heels like usual and pleading with those puppy dog eyes for me to take her along. In fact, it occurred to me that as I’d descended the stairs to the foyer, Lucy seemed oddly content,considering my impending departure, as she stretched out on the living room floor, playing with one of her toys.
I made a quick trip back up the steps to check on her and make sure she was okay and not eating something she shouldn’t be eating.
And she was just fine! While I was busy making sure Bella was happy and comfy, Lucy had taken advantage of my moment of inattention. She stuck her face into my tote bag and stole my tennis ball! I couldn’t help but laugh, even though she looked up at me sadly as I rescued the ball before she could remove the cover from it, which would have happened in short order had I not realized what she’d done.
At work, I laid claim to a good chair that seemed like it needed a home. And then I happily sat on my tennis ball all day long. Happy, happy, happy!