Toronto, Ontario, Canada
A couple of good friends, doctors, arranged for me to check my spine through an MRI scan. Results will come in a few days. It’s an interesting process. You are put in a container the size of a coffin with ear plugs on. The lady who came out before I went in said the sounds inside were like a bad sounding rock band. “I’m claustrophobic, so it was tough.” She looked like she had a rough time.
At my turn I could understand what she meant, although at one point the tapping noise had a rhythm and I caught myself moving my toes to the beat. The operator of the machine asked me to keep still, so I did. It was hard to not move the legs in that reclining position with a roof three inches from your nose. In any event we’ll see what find of wear and tear exists on the spinal cord given all the walking, aging and not always being posture perfect.
I feel embarrassed to not put in at least two hours of trekking a day. The hospital form asks if the patient has a ride home. I answered, “no” . I always walk everything off even if there would have been a little “shake up” after the session.
Another passion that consumes me is drama. For the evening a volunteer group came to see me to work on a refined version of, “The Eighth Boy” regarding the life of Krishna.
Today was a day of patience and passion. I’m grateful for today.
5 Km
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