Show Stoppers

I was already to finish up writing a post about the fun and substance of the Winter Show Cases when on Tuesday night I was getting out of my car and the back spasm started.

Show stopper…

It felt like I was being squeezed by something mechanical. It took my breath. I stopped. I got my breath back and thought it was over. Another step and three squeezes and I fell back on to the car. My heart was ready to burst out of my chest, my whole body perspired, when I got my breath back there was heavy breathing and then it was done.

I made my way to the elevator like nothing happened. I went into my apartment, put on my PJ’s, plugged in the heating pad, took a vicodin and slept.

Some times vicodin dreams are horrible, but this dream was amazing. I was in a fairy park that was over grown with foliage and flowers. It was humid and time was slow. I was approaching a fountain in the middle of the park that was filled with sad tired old white swans. Their heads skimmed the surface of the water because they couldn’t hold their necks up. Nothing pretty to look at, the only thing they seemed to evoke was pity. I walked to the edge of the fountain to try to see why they couldn’t lift their heads and as I reached for one they all saw me, and said, “It’s not: I jumped in, and it was cold. No. It was cold, and I jumped in. Always arrange a sentence so you appear to be fearless, when in fact you are far less than fearless—you are clueless.
”** They then rose up from the fountain, which of course had by now magically somehow turned into more of a lake, to reveal that the sad swans where really more like cowls, and these angular white sparkling dragons rose up with their wings dripping water in the foggy diffused sunlight. The image was so vivid and real, it woke me up and I was whapped in the face with a fuzzy cat tail.

Show stopper…

Luckily, I was still able to go back to slumber time.

In the morning I carefully got out of bed. I got down the stairs and sat down on the couch, trying to figure out what I should do. Stay home? Go to work. I got up and started walking to the bathroom. I got three steps in and three squeezes sent me hanging on a wall for support.

Show stopper…

I sent the official staying home sick email. Right now, I could go into the stupidness of doctors and our health care system, but the emotions I have towards it, I just wouldn’t know where to start. So let me just say this, “To the Troll Nurse who was beyond curt with me because I didn’t know the exact date of my last period, get laid. Because I’m in a bit of pain and can’t think, it in no way gives you the right to make me feel like crap when I’m on the scale that I’m at the high-end of the BMI normal healthy index. I don’ not need your judging eyes nor your whatever bad thing you are thinking about me, because it has nothing to do with me. This is all you. Check it at the door. And Young Evil Wizard Doctor,  just because I choose not to have surgery for this injury does NOT make me a drug attic. So thank you Third-Random-Doctor-That-I-Have-Been-Assigned in two years, for not looking at my MRI, and making that immediate assumption. I’m glad that I had a copy of my MRI on hand, why didn’t you? When I’m in pain I totally have more patience then you have patients.”

Not a show stopper… because I made it through… it’s weird isn’t it, when you think you have no faith in yourself and you’re just in a sad state where all is lost and then a complete stranger treats you the way you feel and then you’re all, “Screw you I’m amazing!”

I passed the test of the Angry Troll Nurse and the Young Evil Wizard Doctor and the prophecy of my dream comes true. The sad swan slowly rose up out of the pond and became a the Show Stopping Strong Sparkling Crystal A/B Dragon. Again.

**( A quote by Jarod Kintz from At even one penny, this book would be overpriced. In fact, free is too expensive, because you’d still waste time by reading it. )

About TheSpinningDancer

I am a follower of the Church of Dance. Dream Bunnies and Mourning Doves follow me at night.
This entry was posted in ballet, ballroom, ballroom dance, dance, essay, students, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s