Defensive

Ironically, talking about improving my injury is never fun. I've only recently noticed my immediate defensiveness, though I'm sure I've done it for much of my life. Whether it's a comment from my mother, a friend, or a stranger, I resent it. I shut down. It could be a new exercise, a new surgery, a new doctor, a new form of medical attention, it doesn't matter; I don't want to hear it. Of all things, this is what I should want to hear, right?? How do I make this annoying thing better?? But no. Let's see if I can explain this considering I don't fully understand it myself. And let me warn you that it's not all entirely logical.

First, I don't want to talk about how to make it better, because I don't want to even have this thing that I have to make better in the first place (First sign of lack of logic: don't we all have things to make better?). 99% of people I know have two fully functional arms that they never have to worry about. Why do I have to worry? Why can't I just deal with it. This brings me to the second aspect of my defensiveness. I'm used to my arm the way it is. I have spent nearly 18 years getting used to it, compensating for it, learning how to work around it. I'm doing just fine, so why should I have to try and fix it? (Well, Lise, because it could be more than "fine" and also because you ignoring it will probably make your future painful and uncomfortable...). Ultimately, change is scary and I don't like being told how I need to be fixed. Wasn't I born this way and aren't I doing all right? To those who try to talk to me about improvement: I apologize, but I hope this helps clear up my seemingly illogical response a little. And I do understand and apologize for its remaining holes in logic. I'm pretty much giving into emotions during these conversations, and those are always entirely illogical so it shouldn't be too surprising.

Someone who Always Remembers

It is impossible and ridiculous to expect everyone to always remember my shoulder injury. People I've known forever still hit it, pull it, grab it, and even look at it funny. It's to be expected. There are countless people who go in and out of our lives, and I understand and respect that the big "WARNING" sign on my shoulder isn't permanently visible for many people besides myself. I can't expect it to be a priority for anyone.

Still, there's something very endearing about a person who does seem to always remember. Someone who will wrestle me but avoid attacking my left arm. Someone who will offer massages and remind me to pull my shoulders back and sit up straight. Someone who will ask me questions about it, who will always offer to help but also always let me try on my own, and who won't laugh when I struggle. These are the people who I hope to never let go, and I'm lucky enough to have several of them in my life. So here's to them. Thank you.

A Manicure

I've maybe gone to get a manicure a total of ten times in my life, and in the long period of time between appointments, I seem to always forget that it's a surprisingly difficult task for my left arm.

When Senior Prom rolled around, I thought it was enough of an occasion to head to the nail salon. As soon as I sat in the chair and lifted my arms onto the table between me and the manicurist, I quickly remembered my last couple visits and how tired my arm had become while "resting" on this table for the lady to paint my nails. Holding it up there in the right position wasn't exactly easy for me. Just another silly normal thing that I forget is a little more difficult for my left arm. 

This visit was especially fun. I came to realize that the woman painting my nails was fairly new. She was cutting my cuticles a little too close and finally I felt a sharp pang on my left ring finger and looked over to see blood. After twenty minutes of intense effort from three women trying to get my annoyingly persistent bloodstream to clot, they just had me hold it above my heart. Not only did my arm get extremely sore and tired, but also as I sat there in sweats, messy hair, and no makeup not long before I had to show up for prom pictures, I began to think I had scheduled the appointment a little too late in the day.

Eventually, I just gave up and put my arm down. I thought my arm would fall off if I held it up there any longer so I just let my finger bleed a little more. I walked out of there with a tired shoulder, a bloody finger, and a familiar wish to have a normal arm. But now, like always, it's just something to look back on and laugh at. 

"Ouch"

 And as soon as they realize I wasn't joking:

"Oh my gosh, did I hurt you?! Oh I'm so sorry, oh no. I didn't mean to oh I forgot oh no I'm so sorry!"

It's okay. Really. It's not like your friendly slap on my shoulder is a stab wound. Yes, it stung a little. Yes, what normally doesn't hurt your other friends or even my other arm did hurt a little. But I will survive. I have lived almost 18 years with this shoulder and I'm even tougher than you think. "Ouch" is a reflex reaction. The unnecessary pain still surprises me sometimes, but a second later I have recovered.

This tends to happen a lot. It's definitely one of many responses to my saying "ouch" after someone's friendly push or punch to my arm, but I've found it's the one made by those that care about me the most. The people I don't know very well get uncomfortable and quiet, and the people I don't particularly want to spend time with tend to just laugh. These are very broad generalizations obviously. The situations are very different and so spark different reactions from different people in different moments.

The point is, I hate these situations as much as the friend. I don't want you to feel bad! I am fine. I nearly always regret saying "ouch" even as it is leaving my mouth. I promise my arm is not about to fall off. You do not need to rush me to the emergency room and you definitely should not beat yourself up about making me say "ouch." I hurt perfectly healthy people with my friendly pushes all the time and that justifies feeling bad. This is not the same. I cannot expect you to, nor do I even want you to always be conscious of my shoulder's sensitivity and limitations. I'm just a normal human being who wants you to punch my right arm instead of my left.

Just Watch

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=iuYxGtuBSgk

And send me or comment any response you have to this video that has recently gone viral. It is an incredible story.

Another Yoga Story

I welcome written complaints from anyone who feels my yoga stories are too numerous. Until then, I will keep sharing the new stories I seem to be continuously acquiring.

So in another yoga class with another yoga teacher, I had an entirely new experience. This guy got very involved in my practice. In most of my classes, the teacher simply walks up to me after noticing my left arm's lack of mobility, usually during our first downward facing dog, asks if I have a shoulder injury, and then nods and walks away when I confirm. This time, he sat next to me, said "okay here's what we're gonna do," and proceeded to take me step by step through a much more comfortable modified pose. Throughout the practice, he came up to me and gave me more suitable poses for my shoulder and after the class, he recommended a specific teacher and type of yoga to help strengthen my arm. The interest that this teacher took in me reminded me why I started doing yoga in the first place: to help my shoulder. I had begun to do yoga like I do most things in life. I had begun to overcompensate for my left arm, causing strain on my right arm and further degeneration to my left. I had forgotten that if I do it in a way that's right for my body, yoga can actually counteract this tendency. This teacher reminded me that my practice is very different than anyone else's. I don't need to compare myself to them or try and do what I know I can't. I need to find what's best for my body so that I can actually take full advantage of my yoga instead of just going through the motions the way it seems I should. 

"You're a rockstar"

The teacher told me this in the middle of a yoga class last week. Just days after seeing Humans of New York's post that I shared last week, the same yoga teacher stopped me after the same class and told me I was "inspiring." I immediately recalled the picture and the woman calling it "patronizing" and I almost laughed. I didn't laugh! I smiled and told the guy I really appreciated his words, thanked him for the class, and left. The whole drive home I tried to figure out how I felt about it. My immediate reaction was not that I felt patronized. It was comforting to know that my hard work was recognized. But I also completely agreed with the woman on Humans of New York who said "I'm not living a wonderful life for a disabled person. I'm living a wonderful life, period." I think this is a very important message of which we need to constantly remind ourselves. People tell us we are "rock stars" and we are "wonderful" and we are "inspiring," but we are all of these things even disregarding our disabilities. It goes back to what I know I've talked about before which is to not be defined by your injury. You are so much more than your disability. I am a strong yogi and the woman on Humans of New York is compassionate, intelligent, beautiful. We are all of this and more because of who we are on the inside not because of what people see on the outside. You are allowed to feel good when someone calls you a rockstar for modifying all the yoga poses for your shoulder and you are allowed to be happy when someone tells you that you are inspiring. But you are also allowed to not feel so good and to thank them kindly and dismiss it entirely. We are all different and we cannot be categorized.