Uptown Update

Hi Frank,

I want to fill you in on the progress of my treadmill dance project (see MyFunkyChallenge).  There have been a few things that tried to and somewhat succeeded in interrupting my momentum. Nevertheless, I remain determined. 

I hesitate to even tell you what the derailment consisted of for fear you’ll be so repulsed you’ll have to put away this note ‘til another time. But, without much detail, I’m just going to summarize. ?. Ok, I’ll try. If you keep your imagination at bay, you’ll do fine.  

Here’s the deal. I had a colonoscopy that left me with a weeklong recovery process. That’s not the usual, I’m told, but to cut to the chase: the results were fine. No path was left unscoped, no tract left untracked, plus, luckily, no camera was lost and no equipment abandoned inside (which, at the time seemed like a real potentiality) ?. That was fortunate. However, there’s more to the story. 

Apparently, I have (interiorly speaking) some sharp turns and twists not unlike the solo highway journey I took in the Jeep up the Baja Peninsula from Cabo to San Diego a few years back. I’ll have to tell you about it sometime. It was a trip full of mystery, danger, and army boots! Come to think of it, the colonoscopy was a real trip and it too was fraught with those same things.  

My choir buddy and nurse friend Martha had mentioned the Sunday before that she hoped I’d be put to sleep during the procedure by use of Propofol. So, I brought it up and was told by my particular doctor that she preferred not Propofol but some other concoction, a half-awake serum. I acquiesced. Too late now, I mumbled to myself. 

My thought after the experience: I wish I had insisted. That doctor’s drug of choice allows you to know too much about what’s going on. There are some things in life one really doesn’t need to be aware of. 

Friends, if I have to bar you at the door before your next colonoscopy to make certain you insist on Propofol (or something as effective) I’ll do it. Go to sleep! Don’t accept anything less.

If I remember correctly in my half-awake stupor, my parts are so convoluted that one nurse had to get up on the bed on her hands and knees to assist in pushing (was I having a baby??) and I believe she had on Army boots. I felt things were getting a little raucous and strange with the thrusting and shoving, and I insistently asked (several times) what she was doing. She breathlessly responded with “You’re okay” which answered not a thing but was somewhat encouraging to the both of us.

So, let’s just stop there. I have recuperated from the battle they seemed to have had with my innards and life has eventually returned to normal after 5-6-7 days of distended and extended, troublous, if not vexatious recuperation.  

With that behind me, ?  I went over to help with a sick grandbaby (bless her heart). Within hours, that stomach bug had overtaken not only me but most everyone else in the house. I overheard my body parts delivering insults and knock-out punches as they railed against each other and at me for what seemed like a never-ending assault. Eventually, (and fortunately) my body healed itself and life began again.  

So, to update you regarding the treadmill dance project, I’ll just say that it had at one point become a distant dream; however, things are back on the treadmill track. ?

The next goal will be to introduce a few moves that will get the body more and more accustomed to extra movement ? on the machine. I’m using this video as inspiration. Maybe it’ll be the same for you. It’s by Kari Traa from Oslo, Norway, and full of examples to try out:

https://youtu.be/j8hJ6XC5a_8

So, off we go to a new week, back in action and ready to dance!  As Bruno Mars says:

“’Cause uptown funk gon’ give it to you

Saturday night and we in the spot

Don’t believe me just watch…

Don’t believe me just watch…

Don’t believe me just watch!

Hey hey hey!”

Kisses,

Jane