lørdag 4. juli 2009

Cat under a hot tin roof

Yesterday, a pregnant sky exploded with a wet birth, all over our streets, on roofs,
the backyards. The water broke. Then a cry of pain was screamed out. Leaves were dancing untimely in fear. Soon, wind blew through treetops as they were flowers in a field. Bus stops turned into lakes , and boys went off the bus to swim in the streets of Oslo. (http://www.vg.no/nyheter/vaer/artikkel.php?artid=560617)
We have all suffered for a week inside the belly of the weather. Waiting. Waiting. The womb getting warmer and more heated with every passing hour. Patience. Soon. Little did I know that the physiotherapist I talked to today, was out there, during the birth of the storm. He was running to his car, through the rain, thinking: Just come on. Rain! Yeah.
The physiotherapist told me about the warm rain. – I loose all my energy in such a heat, he said.
We were talking about energy. How to get it. How to loose it. We talked to forget the weather.
- Working out, is all about discipline, he said. - Just to do it. Don’t think. Let the body lead. Like getting out in the rain. Being poured on with energy.
I was talking to him because of my knees. A few days ago I went to a doctor, but he gave me more questions than answers. So, why, I ask this young, just out of school physiotherapist, why doctors never give me advices like his?
– They’re only eager to earn more money, and want to use as little time on you as possible. Doctors get their money whether you come to see them or not. (I´ll write more about this issue another day).
-You’re quite outspoken, I said sweating like a cat under a hot tin roof. Eagerly waiting for more rain, for another stormy child to be born.
I think it is fear, you know, he said. - I know physiotherapists who are careful. They won’t be honest with their patients because they are afraid they won’t come back. I need to tell the truth, as I know it.
I've learned a lot today. In the burning heat of the summer. And I still ask if it was due to the honesty of another human, or the aching waiting time of a change of the weather.

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