Wishful Dancing

I am sure that my legs have it in for me.

Yesterday, on the buss, I completely lost my balance. One moment I was standing, and then, when the driver turned, my legs gave out. I fell into the lap of a lady and was deeply apologetic. She smiled and said it was no problem. “I fell a few days ago and put my hands out to stop myself from falling. I ended up feeling some woman’s breast.”

At least she had a sense of humour.

Today, I was walking to work and took a step, only to find myself falling. My left leg had completely given out and I ended up falling hard onto my back. I should have known that something like this was going to happen.

Today, I’ve tripped over my feet six times already and each time I have to catch myself, put my hands out to catch something, to grab something, so that I do not fall. There is no warning for this, no remedy I can think of.

I wish I could walk properly, that my legs would cooperate with me, that they would take me where I need to go without trying to do me in at the same time. It doesn’t seem like a fair trade, pain for walking.

But nothing in life is easy.

For the past couple of weeks, a new pain has started to form in my legs. Instead of my regular spasms, I’ve had what can only be described as tremors. Usually they’ll be on the sides of my thighs or the backs of my legs.

They start with a light tickling, as if my leg has gone to sleep. But then they progress to a hot, brief spasm. I can feel the muscles moving, more so than usual. It’s like their dancing underneath my skin. Even now, sitting here typing this, I can feel one beginning in my right thigh.

It’s as if my muscles are dancing to their own beat, to their own music. I wish I could hear the music so that I could dance with them, to their tribal beat.

After the music, after the spasms, my legs are incredibly sore and walking is painful. It hurts to put pressure on my feet, to support my body weight. I wonder, briefly, what this means and then put it out of my head.

I don’t want to think about that now.

Instead, I continue to count through the pain, count through the spasms.

One two three four, one two three four, one two three four, one two three four.

I pretend that I am dancing, that I am moving to a rhythm, moving to a beat. Maybe, if I pretend that I’m dancing long enough, the pain will go away.

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About Jamieson Wolf

Jamieson an award winning, number-one bestselling author. He writes in many different genres. Learn more at www.jamiesonwolf.com
This entry was posted in discomfort, Muscles, People. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Wishful Dancing

  1. DJ Kirkby says:

    You write so beautifully about such a painful subject. xo

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