Looking out my Backdoor: Out behind the barn

Broken bones. Missing parts. Titanium joints. Scraped eyeballs. A gimp, a limp and a cane. Moving more slowly every day.

“Pain is a brute dictator,” said Dr. Backman, the quiropractico I saw this week in Mazatlan. “The more we hurt, the less we move.”

He didn’t say — and — the less we move, the more we hurt. But I got it.

And, yes, that is his real name. Dr. Backman, the man who works with backs.

To my shame, I put myself in the shape I’m in today. After hip replacement, three years ago, my physical therapist, sweet, young, Arturo, told me I’d need to do exercises every day for the rest of my life.

To my shame. He was young. I am an older woman. We older women here in Mexico are respected, almost venerated. I quickly learned I could bully Arturo with a look. A grimace of pain and Arturo backed off, let me slide. My physical therapist in Havre never would have let me get away with that. Quite the contrary.

Yes, to my shame. After six months of gentle exercise with Arturo, I took a tip. Gone five weeks. Did I exercise during those weeks? Come on. What do you think? Did I resume workouts on my return? Shame on me.

Desperation got me to finally seek help—not the direct pain but a side effect of the pain. I had begun moving more slowly, feeling weaker. Fueled by my fear and that same stubbornness with which I quit exercising, I will bully myself into following directions.

Frankly, what I must do looks like a full-time job. But, Dr. B said for me to begin slowly, start with a couple. Walk every day, small walks. Climb stairs. Slowly. And I can alternate dreaded workouts with lovely moist heat treatments. I’ll use heat as my carrot.

A couple things on the illustrated list terrify me. “Do you imagine I’ll ever be able to do that?” “You’ll be surprised how quickly,” he answered. Easy for him to say.

What does surprise me is to learn just how lazy I have become. Sure, I am busy every day with my housework, with gardening, pruning and watering my extensive collection of flowers. Did you know that a person can train herself to do all those daily chores without using muscles of one specific leg?

I see by my clock that it is time for another small walk. I’ll take the long way around to the only two-story house on the rancho. I have permission from the owners to climb the outside stairs. When I return to my casita, I have this stretchy thing I will do with an elastic band. Then the heavenly heat. However …

Hip shot. Spavined hocks. Sway-backed. If I were a horse, I would have to take myself out behind the barn and shoot me.

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Sondra Ashton grew up in Harlem but spent most of her adult life out of state. She returned to see the Hi-Line with a perspective of delight. After several years back in Harlem, Ashton is seeking new experiences in Etzatlan, Mexico. Once a Montanan, always. Read Ashton’s essays and other work at montanatumbleweed.blogspot.com. Email [email protected].