Look, I hate making excuses but due to some serious back problems I have been moving around very, very slowly and deliberately. Four herniated lower discs will do that to a person and as those nerve bundles get pressed upon it is like staring at the NewYork skyline during the Independence Day fireworks display. In my case the fireworks are smashing back and forth inside my back and have been doing so since October last. So, how do you sit at a keyboard and merrily type away? Well, you don’t for very long. Plus, you are easily distracted from a focused train of thought that lasts more than 20 seconds.

Well, I have good news. After the MRI’s weaved  their wondrous tale about my back-in-crisis, my doctor wanted me to go to a neurologist for pain relief. Being a masochist I refused. “I want it to get better, doc. I’m not looking to hide what’s wrong and I am not taking pain meds. I want to fix the problem.” Yes, I have been told I am an idiot (not by the doctor). So be it. I have been called a lot worse.

My doctor and I negotiated. I was given a script for physical therapy and I agreed that if it did not work (he did not feel that it would) I would do the neurologist thing. Onward to the Physical Therapy Rehab place and that was at the end of December. I finished with them last Thursday. I have been prodded and pulled and twisted and even had elbows pressed into my upper back and dragged down to my lower back. Seems that over the years parts inside my torso  have traveled to places unintended.. The PT folks were simply trying to cajole those parts back to where they belong. How I had a twisted rib-cage was beyond my comprehension.

Besides the PT treatments I have faithfully worked out at least three times a day, without fail, stretching and prodding and  even conversing with my back which is nothing more to me right now than an invading poltergeist. The things I have said to my pesky demon I cannot put in print lest I be  de-bloggered or something. Suffice it to say I have given Ralphie’s dad (Christmas Story) a run for his money. Anyway, all of that helped but I still could not sit very long at the keyboard. Then it happened.The GOOD NEWS I mentioned earlier was pushed into my life and under my keister.

My physical therapist, Pam, introduced me to the Exercise Ball (some call it a Yoga Ball). I call it a huge beachball. Its circumference is almost seven feet. It is my new chair. YES!!! It took a few days but I have it down to only a few roll-offs a day. You sit and balance and you have to keep your body straight. I have three printed sheets of various exercises that I am supposed do with the “ball”. So far I have only rolled off and whacked my head two times, my elbow once and ripped a gash in my hand as I tried to keep myself on the ball as I rolled sideways and grabbed the metal rail on my keyboard table. When I get up from the ball, no pain in my butt or in the old Glutes. I love it.

Bottom line–I just sat and typed up this masterpiece. Loving my Exercise Ball. YES!!!!!

                                           ©Larry Peterson 2013 All Rights Reserved