When I was a child, or at least a lot younger than I am now,
I listened to baseball games on the radio.
On the few occasions that I watched a televised game, I was disappointed
by the sparse conversation/narrative provided by the broadcasters. One element was the stories the broadcasters
told on the radio. They were aimed at
filling the “dead space,” radio abhorred space without sound, so the broadcasters
would talk about whatever came to mind, whether it was a story about some
historic event in someone’s career, or what they had for dinner the night
before, we heard about it.
Of course, there were stories we didn’t really want to hear,
but their descriptive commentary was absent as well. They were probably counseled to say less,
and let the picture speak for itself.
Whatever it was, I preferred, as some still do today, to turn down the
volume on the TV, and listen to the radio broadcast. This led to a few comical moments as radio
announcers misrepresented (or missed altogether) things that were shown on
TV. With all that said, the description
of the proverbial long fly that wound up going the distance was way more
exciting than simply watching it on TV.
It usually involved in some way, the expression “back, back,
way back, it’s gone—a home run!” All of
that arises because I am trying to help someone I know well deal with some
serious, chronic back pain. Fearful of
the notion that someday spinal surgery might be recommended, required, or
otherwise become something to be reckoned with, we have explored more
conservative options. There have been chiropractic visits, long
harangues about the need to exercise, lose weight, etc. Facing all of this, I keep hearing it again
an again: “back, back, way back, it’s gone—a home run!” To me, one who has experienced the occasional
spell of back pain, it’s simple—you find a set of exercises that provide some
relief, and you do them. Sure, in the
long run, you might had better lose weight, but these exercises are about
relieving pain. The person dealing with
the problem is hearing “exercise” and hearing another exhortation about
lifestyle change and weight loss.
But, to me, it’s about dealing with the back on its own—“back,
back, back—before it’s gone…”
Anybody know how to convince this person to do the three or four simple
exercises twice a day—before "it's gone", meaning gotten worse?
I always learned how to deal with things by reading a book, so, wouldn’t
you know—I found a book to use as an assist to get things going. That's gonna work, don't you think? Or, should I keep quiet and try to find in on
video somewhere, it’s a generational difference, right? "No more words, just show it to me on YouTube."
No comments:
Post a Comment