Friday, September 26, 2014

T5 & T3

Okay, this kind of started as a humorous description when I was in physio on Wednesday. Read until the end to see why...

And please feel free to play along by using the first sentence as a prompt :)

A homeless man, belligerent and obese, has set up his refrigerator-box home in the middle of a narrow one-way street. Any stress, any noise, any mild annoyance sets his temper off like the whirling sparks of a Catherine Wheel firework.

Pedestrians and shop keepers avert their eyes and try to go about their whispered business while he shouts obscenities, kicks garbage cans, and hangs his dirty underwear on street signs.

Cars and delivery trucks bottleneck around his malignant cancer of occupancy.

When security arrives, he throws liquor bottles, screams, and threatens to take hostages.

Two streets over, his slightly smaller, slightly more amiable companion resides, his tiny collection of possessions tucked inside a more modest washing-machine-box, and his dirty underwear (mercifully) out of sight. When his larger friend's antics carry over into his territory, he reacts like an enthusiastic child imitating his older sibling.

All-in-all, he is less angry and less destructive.

Between the two, they can throw the entire city into chaos, one street, one city block at a time.

These men each sit between two ribs around my T5 and T3 vertebrae.

…thankfully, due to my wonderful physiotherapist and his team of related practitioners, these two unwanted residents have now shrunk to the size (and level of delinquency) of surly teenagers, and (hopefully) will soon be reduced to mere toddlers squalling in the candy aisle of the local grocery store.

In other words, the ribs have been out again, but this time it only took two weeks to pop them back in place and convince them to stay put.

Hurray for progress! Boo for stress!

Really though, don't you find it fascinating how different people describe/explain things? Like, one of my massage therapists relates everything to food in some way... fascia tissue work? Well, it's a heck of a lot like combing out cooked spaghetti! Another regales me with odd facts (do you know that people of British Isle background have poor rotation in their hip joints? That's why there aren't any heavy-class weight lifters from that part of the world...)

Seriously though, even if I know about something, I like to hear other people explain it to me, just to hear how they explain it. Always provides interesting fodder for future characters...

...apparently, I personify old injuries as unlikable, unwelcome, and unhygienic people camped out on my spine & ribcage... now what does that say about me? More or less worrisome than a comparison to poorly prepared pasta?