I used to work at a sexual health clinic back in Calgary. Every day, no matter what, we would inevitably remind one of our clients that 'she knew her own body best', and that 'she also knew what was best for her'. It was true. There was no way any of us could decide for another person what method of birth control should be used or what course of action should be taken in the face of an unplanned pregnancy. 'You know your body best': Sage advice from the mouths of babes.
Well, in the spirit of knowing my own body best, I've said NUTS to physiotherapy and gone back to see my wonder acupuncturist. Screw the splinting for 24 hours a day. Screw thinking I have nerve damage all of a sudden. Screw the idea of taking extra strength Advils 3 times a day for a whole week, when I only ever use regular strength Advil a few times a year, and even then it's only if I'm pretty convinced I'm going to die of pain unless I take a painkiller/anti-inflammatory. Screw not knitting or blogging but working on an effin' computer for 8 whole hours a day at work! Just screw it all (I know, so jaded).
After feeling extremely sorry for myself and dutifully following my physio's instructions for a few days, it suddenly hit me: "I know my own body best, and I also know what's best for me.' And seriously-- physio only seemed to be making things worse for my forearms, not better. So off came the splints and in went the needles.
It's not that I don't think my physiotherapist is skilled and knowledgeable or that physiotherapy in general is a bloody waste of time-- not at all. It's just that acupuncture seems to work in harmony with my body and mind, whereas physio seems to work against it. For me.
What this all means is that I'm tentatively taking up blogging again (after a whole week and some hiatus-- I know my absence was hard on all of us) and that in a few weeks' time (I have it all planned out), I'm even more tentatively going to resume knitting again. I'm certainly not throwing caution to the wind or working my arms so hard that they only get worse. I'm just starting to listen to my body again. And my body, in borderline masochistic fashion, seems to be saying 'no thanks' to massage, heat packs, and gentle ultrasound therapy; and 'yes, please' to needles in my forehead, forearms, shoulders, back, hands, knees, and feet (in between my toes, even!)