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Writer's pictureJamie Blaise

I'm a Real Hipster

My hip has been bothering me for years. I’m 42 (well... 43 if we're going to get technical and actually crunch the numbers, but I like 42, so deal with it). A sore hip shouldn’t be a gripe of mine for another 20 years, right? At least!


Also, there are some nights when I sleep wrong. That’s right, I said it. Sometimes I sleep wrong. Know how I know? Because when I wake up, my arm doesn’t work. It just doesn’t work. Won’t do a damn thing I tell it to. It just sits there all limp and whiney. “I don’t feel like it today.” Or, sometimes, I can’t turn my neck all the way to one side. What’s that all about?! Or when I try to get out of bed, I crumple to the floor because my leg doesn’t feel like supporting any weight today. That’s gotta be a sign I’m not doing it right, right? I’ve clearly made some mistakes in my sleep. There’s no other explanation. My body worked perfectly fine as I climbed into bed the night before. Sometime during the night, I've screwed it all up. I zigged when I should have zagged. Or maybe I shouldn’t be zig-zagging in my sleep at all! Maybe that’s my whole problem. Hmm… I’ll have to look more into this line of reasoning.


Getting back to my original thought, my right hip and I have been having arguments for years. We fight. I say, “Let’s stand here like this for a bit” and my hip is all like, “Ok. That’s fine. But I’m gonna go numb for a while.” So, being a reasonable guy, I try to negotiate. I’ll shift my stance and let my leg know I’m giving in a little in hopes that it will do the same. “Sure. We can stand like that,” my hip will agreeably start out saying, “but now I think I’ll give you an electric shock right above your right butt cheek.” OW! You see how this goes…


My point is this. I went to see Charles, the Body Mechanic that comes in once a week where I work. I told him about the disagreements with my hip. He knew exactly what my problem was. He pulled some hand puppets out of his briefcase, my hip and I did some role reversal therapy, and we worked out our differences. Turns out, it was all a very Freudian thing; my hip had some mommy issues. After that, Charles showed me some stretches, and my hip and I have been getting along pretty well ever since. I won’t say that we don’t still have our little spats, but we've mostly come to terms with things.


I set up another appointment with Charles. This time we’re gonna figure out what my shoulder’s problem is. Personally, I think it’s got some ADHD issues. And my elbows. My guess? Agoraphobia. I also suspect my left foot is colorblind. Whatever's going on, I’m confident that we’ll work it out with the hand puppets and get the healing process started.

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