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Peninsula Daily News Port Angeles, Washington Copyright 2000 Eric Rush www.ericrush.com |
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It started out with an almost unnoticeable tenderness in my right hip. Must have bumped it or something. No big deal. I went off to work. Sitting down, which is how I earn a living, made the problem worse. Sitting isn’t the problem; getting up is. It reminded me of the muscle spasms I’ve had in my back a couple of times over the years. I probably should have bailed out of my flight schedule for the week and come home, but my legs worked fine. Besides, I’d miss a long layover in Puerto Rico. Bright sun, warm water, and hot sand would be good for whatever ailed me. I quit sitting down unless I had to. When I did sit, I thought ahead so I wouldn’t have to get up unnecessarily. The muscle spasm theory went away when getting out of my seat produced an electric shock down my thigh that left a light, tickling sensation as the pain faded. Nerve damage? Hotel room desks aren’t designed to be worked at standing. A little ingenuity with the furniture allowed me to build waist-high towers to perch my computer on. In restaurants, I sat on the side of the chair with my right knee on the floor. I began to think I had tendinitis. I remembered the cortisone injection I received in a toe tendon 42 years ago and decided I’d rather have nerve damage. Perhaps I’m in denial. Perhaps I need to recognize that I’m not a kid of 50 anymore. Old folks don’t have the same capacity for bodily abuse that young folks do. I discard that thought. No way can I be in denial. No way am I getting old yet. As I rode the airplane to Seattle, I discovered I could reduce the pain of getting up by sitting with my left hip on a book. As I drove home, I tried to think of what ignored or unnoticed injury might have caused my problem. If anything, I’ve been less active than usual the past few months, not more. More days sitting in airplanes and less time working around the house or cutting firewood. More time inside than outside. More time in my basement den perched on a barstool in front of the computer... My tiny writing room is a closet under the basement stairs, as free from open windows and other distractions as possible. The desk is bellybutton high. That puts a keyboard at the right height for typing while standing when I get tired of sitting. My computer chair is a chair-type barstool sitting on a low platform to get it high enough that my keyboard is at the same height relative to me sitting as standing. I’ve spent more time than usual on my barstool lately. My legs hang down and my feet rest on a low bench under the table. The barstool padding is thin and the front edge is abrupt. I looked at the barstool closely when I got home. The edge is worn more on the right side than on the left. Maybe I don’t sit squarely. Maybe that’s why my left leg is okay, well, almost okay. There’s a little area above my knee that itches mildly most of the time. My doctor said it’s a minor nerve thing when I asked about it a couple of months ago. The good news is, I don’t have tendinitis. I’d heard of sciatica—inflammation or irritation of the large sciatic nerve that runs down each leg—but I thought it was one of those old-time medical problems like consumption and lumbago that characters in western novels complain of. Nothing for it except to avoid aggravating the problem, my doctor says. So I don’t sit, and that means I don’t go to work for a while. There are a couple of movies in town I’d like to see, but they’ll have to wait. I drive to town only when I have to, and I sit with my left hip on a book. Getting through the day without sitting is tiresome unless I stay active, so I’m building a large flower garden in the front yard these days—moving yards of gravel and topsoil and building log-bordered walkways and beds. That, too, is a pain in the butt.
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