On Monday, I saw a Sports Medicine doc from the Physical Therapy center I go to twice a week. He suspects a hip impingement (left side) and apparently there’s some funky nervous system stuff going on. Big surprise.
I have a positive Hoffman’s reflex on one side (nervous system lesions?) and after he did the neuro exam, he had me walk, which took a minute, because I was so dizzy and disoriented from the simple exam.
That’s been part of my daily life for a few days now. Super dizzy. Finn can’t hug or kiss me (which he does now. . nearly 2 years into his own treatment-YAY!) without me getting dizzy and wanting to swoon and vomit. Lovely reaction, eh? My neuro reflexes and responses are on fire.
But, the good news? He thinks I should try yoga again. So, today, I tried. I rolled out my mat, started with the Anusara Invocation, only cried a little bit. Then, I tried to practice, just thinking of Matt Sanford, and all the other people with limited mobility who practice yoga.
It’s interesting to try to do yoga with no shoulder strength. Okay, maybe interesting isn’t the word I feel right now. Right now, it is just sadness. Yoga has been SUCH a big part of my life. Practice for many years, then training, then teaching, then finally finding Anusara Yoga and amazing teachers that touch my heart.
I need hope today. I broke the law of my Physical therapist and braced myself for an inversion. I LOVE headstands. I love pincha mayurasana. I LOVE being upside down.
So, I got my arms in place, and reached through my spine, lengthening. I softened my heart. I met my own self with breath. Deep. There. Alive.
And then, I started to walk up and I knew. Knew in my gut that inversions are no longer on my plate. At least for now.
And now, the tears won’t stop.
The grief is enormous. I have sick kids, a tight budget that doesn’t allow for effective treatment for those kids, a sick husband, a body that hurts most of the time, and yet, what brings me into that deep grief is a headstand. Or, more appropriately, the absence of one.
But, I’m a mom. With two new schools to deal with, applications to process, paperwork to get, neurologists to see, neuro psych exams to drive to, missed birthday parties to plan.
So, I roll up my mat, send love to my teachers and remember that this illness is the greatest teacher of all. What’s on the other side of grief? I don’t know. But not knowing never stopped me from moving forward, and it sure won’t now.