This month I got zapped.
By that, I don’t mean electrocuted, but buzzed by electrodes. The Roadrunner’s many zappings of Wile E. Coyote, haven’t got anything on the Empi. The Empi is not your average massager. Its wires and pads decorate my legs like Christmas. Its electrodes go into commando mode to combat the spasticity and dystonia that exists within me.
Spasticity, dystonia and spasms are, and have been, a constant part of my life since day one. The life I don’t speak of is the one with physical pain and stiffness, where every movement I make doesn’t occur without effort.
20 minutes of Empi zapping, stimulates my muscle tone into a ‘re-educated’ action and I begin walking up a staircase, with reciprocal leg movements (one leg after the other, rather than one up one stair then the next up to that stair, and so on) all while bending my knees!
Please, excuse me, but holy crap. Never, have I ever, felt anything close to walking or moving like that in my entire life on this Earth.
Is that what ‘normal’ movement and walking feels like? (Whatever normal is).
In my world it’s not so black and white. The body is a mere shell of what is possible, given the chance to soar.
Man, Roadrunner was onto something with electrodes. I receive approximately 10 hours of differential movement from the Empi. It’s 10 hours, which, to me are priceless.
Words fail to express how much I adore the outside-the-box thinking I’m beyond blessed to encounter in the US of A.
Here, I am free.