Healing My Heinie

In another justification of my fear of falling, I fell down hard on ice rather than run over Big Sis at the rink and suffered a tailbone injury that is like WOW OW OW OWWWWW I WILL NEVER TAKE MY FANNY FOR GRANTED EVER AGAIN.  I've had a pain in the patootie for three weeks with seemingly no end in sight, and I am happy to whine to you about it.  Or to squirm uncomfortably when I am seated in your presence, so you wonder about my exaggerated leg crossings and weirdly earnest elbows-on-knees-chins-in-palms posture.  I seem both inattentive and then overly so, all in the same meeting. 

People who have hurt their heinies are not helpful.  I've heard, "Oh YEAH...(eyebrows raised)...that takes MONTHS to feel better," and, "You know what?  That happened to me YEARS AGO, and when it's cold or damp out or I sneeze, my arse STILL hurts!" 

Whoopee!  As in, cushion?  Forever? 

No, I'm not going to the doctor, because Doc Google implies, what are they going to do anyway, not put my caboose in a cast, duh, so it doesn't matter if it's cracked or fractured or broken or just bruised.  The only remedy is rest.  Unless, of course, after eight weeks I still can't even bend over or stretch to grab something off a high shelf, in which case maybe they need TO SURGICALLY REMOVE MY TAILBONE, which doesn't sound like a convenient cosmetic procedure.  All of this only leaves me wondering what we're doing, humans, with this wacky vestigial organ that seems to get in the way of the soft landing otherwise offered by my derriere.

I've spent all these months recently strengthening my core with P90X (previously I only strengthened my legs, by running), and I am here to tell you that despite the fact I have appreciated the fruits of my efforts, you can forget your abs, your obliques, or your whatevers, because Your Core is actually Your Butt.  Paris could have taken down Achilles with an easy arrow to the tush instead of aiming for the heel, because it all relates back to the hind end, no matter how rippled your six pack.  Weak abs do not prevent you from driving your car.  Or from walking.  But ruin your rump, and you will not sleep. 

I like unimpaired butts, and I cannot lie.

Do me a favor today, and give your posterior some appreciation.  Kiss your own ass, if you will.  It's doing good work, even when it's just sitting around.