I went to see an osteopath a few weeks ago. Not only has my neck been a pain in the… well… neck recently, but my low-low back has been something of a pain in the… ass? 🙂
I broke my tailbone when I was 16. Suffice to say, don’t ride the back of a GT Snowracer if it rains throughout the Christmas holidays, suddenly turns cold and drops a whole 4 cm of snow on top of the sheet of ice. My friend who was driving hit a bump, I flew off the back, piked in the air, and landed bum first. BRUTAL. My sacrum has never moved well since (if at all), and in fact, my tailbone has taken on a distinctly leftward twist. Some would tell you that the whole spine works as a system, and my neck issues could well stem from the unhappiness at the bottom. Heh. Punny.
That may well be—so when a friend in osteo school recommended I try it out, I mulled it over, I googled “how does Osteopathy work?”, and I made an appointment.
I’m not 100% sure what happened during the sessions, but some of it made sense… I filled in a 5-page history in advance, and when I got there, the osteopath, took one look at it, and examined me for about 3 seconds and said “so, stress is a problem for you.”
Oh, a little… everything in my history pointed to it, the fact that my body was apparently “vibrating” pointed to it, and the fact that I said, “I am extremely stressed out most of the time” pointed to it.
If pop culture has taught me anything, it’s that “admitting you have a problem is only the first step.” But I have a hard time saying that except when I’m being flippant… 🙂
Have I mentioned that I love coffee? Because I do. And doesn’t that pic make it look like it loves me, too? I love it to the tune of 6-8 espressos per day sometimes, or maybe “just 4″. And some days none at all… which I can pull off because espresso tastes great, but I’m not affected by caffeine. I think. When I’m in a putrid mood coffee will always make me happy—even when not accompanied by 90% dark chocolate or happy little hearts in the macchiato foam—but I don’t get withdrawal headaches, and I can wake up without it (most of the time…).
And I love little more than the glory of a coffee date. Meeting friends for a daylight chat is never better than when something tall and dark is involved… it doesn’t even *have* to be the company!!
But she tells me that even if my body doesn’t seem to respond to caffeine, I’m accruing future health challenges from it, and likely exacerbating my stress-itude something serious from it.
Alas.
1 a day would be better… which would mean I’d finally make an honest cup out of my fave at-home mug, seen above. And if it could be decaf, that would be perfection. The rest of the time… I should try to make friends with this little beauty…
And so begins the era of my life I will call:
“in which she learns to love a limette pressé“.
A what?
If you hang out in Paris a little, which I did for work a few years ago, you might encounter the “citron pressé”, which some consider just french-ified lemonade—but it’s not exactly. Trust me. They’re served cold: ice water, the juice of a lemon, freshly squeezed, and some white sugar.
In my version, I have a bag of limes, so “salut citron, bonjour limette“. I am nixing the white sugar. And since it’s already fall in Hinterlandia, I’m actually nixing the ice water today in favour of a kick at the kettle…
It’s warm, it’s tart, and it’s possibly de-stressing me. I’m going to take some creative license and imagine it in the hand of something tall and dark, though—which should de-stress me even more. 😀