Bones
Yesterday evening, bones hurting, I walked into physical therapy a little slower in step than usual. It had been a long day of dealing with drama and I was tired.

“How’s Matildakay today?” ‘M’ asked.

“I’m here.” My mind was heavy, “My knee is hurting today.”

“What have you been doing?”

“Nothing.”

“Maybe that’s it, not enough activity.”

“I don’t know, its just hurting.” I said.

“Well warm up on the bike and we’ll see how you do.” ‘M’ said.

I climbed on the bike turned on my ipod and began scrolling through the music library. I was looking for something… I wasn’t sure what, but I wanted to be inspired. I ran my thumb over the ipod selection wheel in a circular motion as artists names flashed on the screen. I don’t know why, but I love that circular motion of the pad of my thumb lightly touching the ipod selection wheel, of skin touching technology. I love having hundreds of artists in the palm of my hand. I love being able to carry around my entire cd collection in my purse. Its quite freeing to whip out my ipod and pick a particular music to fit my mood at any moment, anywhere.

I scrolled through artist’s names waiting for one of them to jump out at me. And then one did. Rich Ferguson, spoken word poet and writer. It was fitting; Rich Ferguson had been on my mind most of the day. I love his work! I clicked on his name, started the timer on the bike and began pedaling.

My right knee was puffy. Navigating stairs had been hard that day and now it was screaming pain at me with every crank of the bike pedal.

“These bones are my worst nightmare come true” Rich Ferguson passionately spoke about bones loudly in the headphones pushed in my ears as my right patella slipped in and out over my leg bones grinding, screaming his words in unisom.

“I can feel them knocking against the doors of my flesh” How did Rich know my knee bones were knocking, knocking threatening to jump track at any moment?

“Can’t you hear ‘em moan bones?” I could.

“Torture bones” He spoke. I agreed and pedaled faster.

“Bones…” Are others as aware of their bones as I am?

My deformed knee bones have become second nature with their limitations, discomfort and pain. These are my bones. I know my bones better than most for they speak to me constantly.

“You get a new ipod?” ‘M’ asked.

“No. I’ve had it, I just brought it with me today.” I said. I had wanted to escape the usual classic rock or country radio stations Terrio plays and the other patients and fitness clients mindless social banter.

Physical therapy to spoken word poetry is quite a different experience. Each step, squat, extension, and weight had a word, a beat and a meaning. I kept pace with Rich’s passion. And so did my bones.

“Can I have ice and stem?” I asked ‘M’ at the end of my program.

“Your knees are really puffy, we’ll ice them both.” ‘M’ said.

He hooked my right knee up to the stem machine and piled ice bags on both my knees. Soon electric currents crawled up and down the muscles on either side of my right knee. My bones eased, relaxed.

I sighed.

“I wish I could take this machine with me.” Hooked up to the stem machine was the only time my bones slept instead of screamed.

“We have portable ones you could rent.” I watched ‘M’s finger on the increase current button pushing, pushing, pushing it up… he looked at me as if asking “when?”

It felt so good… I closed my eyes ‘M’ kept pushing the increase current button.

“Ok.” I finally said opening my eyes as my bones sighed.

Labels: Bakrsfield, Bones, ipod, Physical Therapy, Poetry, Rich Ferguson, Spoken Word, Terrio Therapy Fitness

  posted by Matildakay at 11:34 PM