Six Weeks
It’s been six weeks since I took that spill in the rainy wet and badly bruised my back and ribs. And now, I’m pretty much recovered.
Maybe I feel a tiny twinge when I’m not adequately warmed up and I twist just so, but for most every intent and purpose, I’m back to what professional athletes usually call 100 percent.
This still seems rather amazing to me and makes me thank my lucky stars that the human body is such a miracle of auto-therapeutics (although I don’t really believe it’s a miracle; rather I see it as a straightforward result of adaptive selection.)
It also reminds me to be inclined towards a healthy measure of patience when it comes to matters of health.
Often, when I’ve hurt myself or am otherwise feeling less than ideal, I have tended toward seeking solutions outside myself. Perhaps if I can keep the six weeks model in mind, I won’t go rushing off after doctors or other health-care providers so rapidly.
(I make exception here in matters of pain; I am a firm believer in the value of analgesics; and insofar as some of the best ones can only be gotten through a licensed provider, then here I come, Dr. Feelgood.)
And perhaps this same admonition of three fortnights can be kept in mind when I find myself bogged down during a quarter of teaching or in my yoga practice or as a spouse or father during those inevitable rocky times we all experience.
I’m not advocating avoidance or downplaying of real problems; I’m just exploring whether or not there may be times when time is not of the essence, that instead, allowing nature to perform its natural healing process may be the prudent course of action.
As I read this back, therefore, and find myself less than fully satisfied with my thinking and writing, I can just relax and see where I’ll be a month and a half from now.
Maybe I feel a tiny twinge when I’m not adequately warmed up and I twist just so, but for most every intent and purpose, I’m back to what professional athletes usually call 100 percent.
This still seems rather amazing to me and makes me thank my lucky stars that the human body is such a miracle of auto-therapeutics (although I don’t really believe it’s a miracle; rather I see it as a straightforward result of adaptive selection.)
It also reminds me to be inclined towards a healthy measure of patience when it comes to matters of health.
Often, when I’ve hurt myself or am otherwise feeling less than ideal, I have tended toward seeking solutions outside myself. Perhaps if I can keep the six weeks model in mind, I won’t go rushing off after doctors or other health-care providers so rapidly.
(I make exception here in matters of pain; I am a firm believer in the value of analgesics; and insofar as some of the best ones can only be gotten through a licensed provider, then here I come, Dr. Feelgood.)
And perhaps this same admonition of three fortnights can be kept in mind when I find myself bogged down during a quarter of teaching or in my yoga practice or as a spouse or father during those inevitable rocky times we all experience.
I’m not advocating avoidance or downplaying of real problems; I’m just exploring whether or not there may be times when time is not of the essence, that instead, allowing nature to perform its natural healing process may be the prudent course of action.
As I read this back, therefore, and find myself less than fully satisfied with my thinking and writing, I can just relax and see where I’ll be a month and a half from now.
posted by Professor Dave at 7:20 PM
1 Comments:
To me, this ties in with what you wrote about a few days ago, re: not wishing one's life away simply because current circumstances are unpleasant.
I'm 5 weeks into a 12-weeks-on-crutches recovery from a pretty bad fall off my bike. As badly as I miss riding (and walking, for that matter), now that I've just passed 40 (more-or-less the halfway mark of my time on this earth, I hope), I'm even more cognizant that there's value in every moment - even the ones that seem to sorta suck at the time.
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