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The pain of it all

The start of 2022’s been a little hazy with pain. On December 19, preparing for company and the holidays, something happened to my hip/back. Initially, we thought it had to do with a new med I’d just started for migraines, which would’ve been really sad as it seems to be working. No daily headaches can really brighten your day, let me tell you! Long story short, I tried my usual yoga and the chiropractor, no real relief. But friends and family and sparkly Christmas lights (and good bottles of

Photograph of clown in pain
“Pierrot in Pain,” albumen silver print from glass negative by Adrien Tournachon, person in photograph = Jean-Charles Deburau, 1854-55, from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, in the public domain.

wine) go a long way to distract one from the pain. Unfortunately, last week, it all went south, and we headed to the ER located conveniently up the hill from the house. Thought we found the answer there (after 7 hours of possible Covid exposure!), but NO. Talked to a number of my providers over a couple of days, but in the end, because medical practices of all kinds are overrun by the Coronacootie, I had to settle for an appointment later in the month with my rheumatologist.

But then there was Saturday and Dr…YouTube! While I’m always cautioning Tom and the kid about relying on and trusting Dr. Google, I was desperate. I was also starting to think that it was actually more of a mechanical problem rather than something internal. Long story longer, it looks like a really bad case of sciatica, much worse than anything I  dealt with when I was pregnant all those years ago. (The kid’ll be 25 this year.) Did the right exercises and some targeted yoga, more ice, then fired up the hot tub. Life was much better by Saturday evening. I slept well for the first time in weeks. A couple of days later and I’ve backslid, but I think I’ve turned the first BIG corner. It’ll take awhile, but soon Bowyn and I hope to be back to our early morning walks in the Bosque.

What bothered me most – besides the pain and limited mobility, of course – was losing so much time making, creating. After all the holiday hoopla, by New Year’s I’m ready to hunker down with my journal/sketchbook and supplies to make new stuff. There’s a stitching project I’ve been mulling on for 2022; it needed more fleshing out. That didn’t happen. I wanted to start a new “Baby Boucherouite” to use in my In the Studio Workshop Week 4 class on January 30. Getting to draw that out today. Finally.

I did manage to finish the Angel of 2022, but haven’t gotten her up to the Etsy shop. Photographed her just yesterday. During that demoralizing Patriots game.

Hooked rug, hooked art
THE MIGHTY ONE, THE ANGEL OF 2022. Hooked with old t-shirts, plastic bags, gold lamé, and a wee bit of wool.

But I had a little epiphany in the hot tub Saturday evening. Maybe it was just the chardonnay whispering in a picture-perfect New Mexico sunset and a bubbly 103º, but it did tell me how great life is and can be when you stop and rest for a bit. Sure, there’s Omicron and all, but the folks in my bubble are all vaxxed and boosted, so it’s unlikely any of us will die if/when we catch Covid. The world won’t end if my yearlong project doesn’t start till February. Or because I haven’t hit 10,000 steps in three weeks.

Why is it that we need a crisis to remind us that we can’t control everything? And while we’re dealing with sed crisis, the rest of our lives rarely fall apart. Completely at least. The reality is that having time off from working out every morning has let me linger at breakfast reading the paper and having another cup of tea. Not racing onto the next rug has given me more time to practice crocheting. And Tom’s been taking good care of me, though I’m not sure if that’ll extend to encouraging the purchase of a pair of “pity shoes.” (I’ll let you know.)

“Acute Pain,” by Thomas Rowlandson, 1800, from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, in the public domain.

I beg you to learn from my pain-filled experience. Or don’t; feel free to enjoy your own. LOL. In this new year, take a little time to slow down before you break down. Remember that you cannot control the world, not even your own little part necessarily. You definitely can’t control people, not the ones on TV or Facebook or even the ones in your family. Just do what you need to do for you. Because if you don’t put that oxygen mask on first, you certainly can’t help someone else with theirs.

High on Hooking dog with crocheted and hooked art
Bowyn implores you: ” For the love of God, take care of yourself. Who the hell else will walk us?” Meanwhile, for a price, he shows off the things I’ve worked on in the past couple of weeks.

 

Which leads us into an advertisement for WORKSHOP WEEK 4 kicking off Sunday January with a class and panel discussion led by Susan Feller. Classes are filling, some are to capacity. Now is the time to do something for yourself. At home; no Covid exposure needed! We’ve got nine workshops running, all very different, not all involving hooking. Find more INFO HERE or send an email to me at Laura@highonhooking.com.

In the meantime, take a look at our Instagram page. The various artists/teachers have been taking over the account these past few weeks in order that you might get to know us. If you’re interested in a class or just someone’s pics, take the time to message or email them. You never know where a new skill or just a new contact might take you in 2022…

 

 

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