bust a move!

a life-time of ballet, dancing, gymning, cardio-kick-boxing, hooping, cycling, hiking and just generally being active and taking my body for granted , seems to have finally caught up with me.

i’ve spent most of the last two months sitting, thinking that taking a rest-cure would help heal my incredibly painful back and knee. not so much. the only thing that happened is that my lard-ass grew even lardier. and at my age, let me tell you, once you gain weight  it’s like a damn leech – it just does not want to let go.

i finally took to twitter looking for a chiropractor to see if that would sort me out. amazingly, 3 (incredibly painful) sessions later, after some dry-needling (yup, i once again was getting jabbed), some electrical stimulation and some major chiropractic adjustments, i’m moving again.

i even have a new personal trainer who miraculously made her appearance out of n0-where. she comes to my house, she adjusts her schedule to suit me and we’re taking things really easy. ok, so i have yet to go and see a physio about my knee, but for now i’m sticking my head in the sand where that’s concerned. i’m just so glad to get up off my saartjie baartman butt and get moving again.

hallelujah!

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laser peel recovery – day II & III

friday mid-morning, after my micro-laser peel the night before, i head back over to the CENSORED for a check-up with doctor CENSORED.

i am not feeling good. i think i’m taken by surprise by the amount of pain i’m experiencing. i look terrible. i attempt to wear a hat, but it chafes my fore-head and the vaseline i’ve been told to slather on my face sticks to everything. i opt for a scarf loosely tossed over my head.

the doctor says it’s looking good, so this must be normal (and i do recall 2 rather scary-looking patients the night before). he puts some yellow powder around my eyes which he says will absorb some of the moisture. i look even scarier. halloween has come early and my gruesome burn victim mask takes first prize. as i pay my not-insubstantial bill, i start to feel a little light-headed (not just because of the feats required by my credit card) and have to go take a seat in the waiting room. CENSORED, the very sweet receptionist, gets me some powerade. dr. CENSORED asks if i want to lie down, but i opt to stay where i am (i’m sure i’m not being a very good advertisement right now for the other clients in the waiting room). they very kindly order me a sandwich as i think my wooziness might be as a result of skipping breakfast, combined with the flu and the stress on my system.

i can feel that all the blood has drained from my face. my body seems to be in shock. another client very kindly offers to drive me home, but i gratefully decline and slowly make my way back. i spend the rest of the day on the couch, my face simultaneously shiny and crusty, watching the opening of the olympics which is pretty awe-inspiring and provides at least a little bit of distraction, though i am in pain.

during the course of saturday morning, after i’ve washed off the crusty yellow powder with the (not inexpensive product i bought from the doctor), the pain and swelling begin to subside. i’m beginning to feel better.

however, i still have to prepare for the fire-gig i’ve agreed to. i spend the day getting my costume and tools together and choosing music for the performance. putting on make-up, though, is far more interesting than i’d like. i’m still very crusty and it’s hard to cover that. i also feel like my face is cracking under the make-up. i end up covering my eye area in a huge ring of black cream-based kryolan and end up looking like the corpse bride.

we get to the venue (which is breathtakingly beautiful – stone buildings nestled up against the koppies) and set up. i’ve been ignoring the fact that i have the flu, but by now i’m beginning to lose my voice, my lungs hurt and my face, now that i’ve got make-up on, feels like it’s splitting open. i get through the 2 sets, dismally it seems to me, for the level i’m used to performing at, but it goes over well. only problem is that i have to wear goggles for the fire set, just to protect my eyes, but instead it winds up chafing off the skin around my eyes. i wash off the make-up in the ladies room immediately after and have very interesting conversations with women coming in and out to use the facilities (especially the ones disappearing into the stalls in pairs – not necessarily to relieve themselves, though definitely to powder their noses).

it’s a strange experience. i get home feeling like i’m done being the entertainment. i used to love fire performing, but on this night, when i’ve performed mainly to honor my word, seeing that i have the flu and my face is on fire, it is interesting to see how my highly distinctive make-up and costume, make me invisible. to the people who don’t know me, i am the hired help, somehow beneath them. it is not a feeling i enjoy. it interesting to see the change in response when i take my make-up off and they actually talk to me and some realize that they’ve seen me on tv. the irony is that apparently there’s a lot of interest in booking me, but i don’t know whether i’m any longer interested in spinning for anything but fun.

(to be continued)