Jo M. Orise - Been painting but...

But My Butt Hurts!

"Just One of Those Days"
graphic by: Jo M. Orise (formerly: J.S. Cabana)

Had trouble sitting for the last eight months.

I know why— sat too long at my desk working on a super, important project. 😂

The first evening, I felt uncomfortable. I ignored the problem and continued the project for several hours—had to catch up before our long drive home.

The next day, I did the same thing.

Retiring for the night, I reviewed my decision of the previous two days—sitting on what I now consider a most uncomfortable chair was a bad choice. Been using that chair for the last five years and never had a problem. To make things worse, I would be sitting in a vehicle for the next three days during our drive home. Super bad decision.

I was right.

By the time we got home, my leg was inflamed from butt to ankle. Had to be sciatica. Happened years ago, but not so bad.

Fast forward eight months. After having favored the butt and leg with homeopathic lotions and turmeric and the occasional Ibuprofen, I managed to reduce the inflammation to a small spot on my butt—right where the body sits on a chair. Small but very uncomfortable.

Our recent plan, another three days drive back here. The place were the terrible deed was committed.

We drove off, with much trepidation on my 'end.' 😩

What RELIEF! The trip was not bad. I applied the lotion twice a day and whenever needed. Plus the turmeric and occasional Ibuprofen helped. Now a dull pain was annoying me. Not so bad.

Off we went—two fifteen mile bike rides.

I decided to slow down.

Hubby was sympathetic.

I was besides myself. (Besides my butt?)

Hubby had a medical appointment... returning home he suggested I make an appointment to see our doctor. Reluctant at first, I finally called.

"See you tomorrow!"

Wow! Tomorrow! Hubby had filled her in and persuaded her to see me ASAP.

Doc poked and prodded. I was not hurting too badly. She scheduled an x-ray. Arthritis in the tailbone. Nothing else.

After she examined me, my pain nearly vanished. A few days later it was basically gone. Now how is that for a super doctor. She did that once before. I had another pain in my right hip area. She examined me. I went home and decided to take something new. I mixed a little Collagen mixture in water before bed. Next day the pain was gone. Never came back.

So, did I heal slowly on my own or did I have the opportunity to have my doctor 'heal' me with her touch? I've told her she had healing hands. At least I would like to think so.

Now my butt sits comfortably on a more padded seat. I don't sit as long as I used to.

Take heed. Get off you behind every now and then. Take a walk, bicycle or swim. Baby fat may help keep you padded and comfortable however, as you get older, that cute baby fat look will dwindle and aches and pains take over. Learn to deal with them and especially learn how to avoid them.
Or, perhaps you will find a miracle healer like I did. 😉

Do you have a story about a healing touch? 
Leave a comment, like this post and please share. 😊

Now I've Gone and Done It!

Glaze varnish added as a finishing touch to a painting.


Hubby and I are back. To the cooler weather. Florida was warm and what a great winter we had.
First week back I was mired in photographing artwork. Then I had to post them to my virtual gallery at www.jomorise.com . Result, some photos are kind of hard to see, so a redo is on the agenda today.

Wouldn't you know. I have four batteries for my super Nikon Coolpix camera. With four batteries, I used batteries 1 and 2. I numbered them with a magic marker. Magic? Why do we still call it that? Part of someone's brilliant marketing plan I suppose. Let's just chill out. An indelible marker—a permanent marker. Yeah. "Permanent" is good.

So I numbered them with a permanent marker. 1, 2, 3, and 4. I used 1 and 2 for a while. One day I  used 4. It faded after very few shots. I charged it, put it aside and went back to 1. My plan. Don't ignore any batteries. Use them. So I cycled 1-4. When I reached 4, it was dead. Just like that. No groans, whimpers, cries of agony. Just a big zero.

I felt bad. What had I done to poor 4. So I continued to cycle 1, 2, and 3. However,  like everything else, they soon flickered out and died. But why on the same day? The day I need them most. Today! Hey, I need to photograph my artwork now, Whimper, AAAaaargh!

Best of plans don't always turn out okay.

But I have another terrific camera. My Canon! Bring out the big guns. I have two batteries for that one.

Haven't used it as much as I wanted since Hubby got me the Nikon. It takes great photos with every shot. So I set up the tripod and a white sheet on the wall mount and shot a few pictures. Actually three shots. Then battery 1 animated a hollow, pulsing battery on the screen. Smart camera. So I charged the battery. Battery 2 did the same thing. So I charge that battery. Hmmm.

I even painted my studio palette. This is a watercolor.

A few hours later, I used the battery 1 and it didn't last long. NOOOO! This was too, too much.

I spent hours searching for a great deal on rechargeable, lithium-ion batteries and other things I needed to organize and prepare my artwork for my representative galleries in Maine and New Hampshire—and to update my virtual gallery.

Two days later, while waiting for the batteries to arrive, I managed to photograph my artwork. Twice. Thrice. So, I'm not an expert photographer. I manage.

In college I took Photography One. Second semester, I bought my first SLR, a Konica TC. It was great. Took great shots. Love the black and white photos. Gave one of my son to Mom and Dad and in-laws. "There's no color, it doesn't match the others ones on our wall."

"I took the shot and developed it myself and got an A+ for the work, the great pose and subject. And—it's your grandson."

They stared back and barely smiled. The photos were slipped into a drawer for eternity.

When my son was to graduate from high school. Seniors were asked for a childhood photo. He chose that black and white. The school presented Senior night for family and friends of the graduating class. Each child's photo was projected onto a giant screen. All in color. Polaroids were faded, turning green where red used to be. Some were very colorful, some not so. Each child smiling. The crowd giggled and laughed. Then—my son's black and white came up. It was a large close-up portrait of a child deep in thought as he sat at the table and held a pencil in his right hand that also supported his head. He had a pensive look that focused to the right, not the camera.

The room got silent for a split second then, "Aaaah." Some clapped! My son and I were overjoyed. The parents and students appreciated the photo.

I felt the black and white was finally taken out of the dark drawer to be appreciated. So, things do not always work out as planned. But some good things do come full circle and it is a great feeling when it happens.

After 37 years, it is still my favorite. It is framed and sits in a prominent space in my home.

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