I woke up today with a persistent pain in my lower left back. It’s not really all that serious…not so far, anyway. But i always knew all this was coming from the moment I turned 30. It’s just that age, so they say. Everything starts to break down, and in a few years I’ll just be a mess of aches and pains like everyone else. And it’ll be all I can talk about at parties, although an upside is that I can replace the typical ‘good thanks’ response with ‘not so bad, just aching a bit’, or some sort of variant.
I suppose it’ll be worse in the early days, right now when I haven’t had a thousand and one conversations where fellow aged people have given me a load of tips and tricks to cope. But soon…soon, I will know. I’ll start carrying brochures for a nearby dry needling course in New Zealand, so that everyone can go along and have the tools to combat pains and aches and strang cricks in places you never knew you had. That’s enough material to last for an entire party, or possibly one full session of coffee with a friend, although we may need to allocate time to talk about the government. And when I say ‘talk about the government’ then I do of course mean that we’ll spend the entire time complaining. You get to my age and you just have to complain about everything, from aches to parliament. Not about pain-relieving methods like dry needling though, since they’re what takes the pain away. And I’m only 30 now. Give it a few years and trigger point dry needling courses will have evolved to the point where complaints about pain will have been cut down by…ooh, maybe 40%? I don’t want to be too optimistic about the future, because when you get to my age, you lose a lot of optimism. Those positive thoughts are for the youth. Ah, to be young again…
-Agatha