Shikoku Pilgrimage Prologue

Good grief Charlie Brown, it’s already August, and in only 4 weeks Emi and I will be leaving to walk around the island of Shikoku, all 750 miles of it. Some books says the walk is less than 750 miles but who’s counting? It is enough to know that it will take about 50 days walking an average of about 15 miles a day.

In preparation for the walk I have been seeing my people, my medical. I thought that it would only be prudent. After all, I am getting older, and I desperately need all the medical advice that I can acquire to help me complete my future folly of a walk.

I first went to see my nurse practitioner, and his suggestion, in response to my neck pain, was to get an epidural (cortisone injection into your spine...brrr). It didn't sound like fun, but I was ready for anything that would increase my odds in completing the walk, and so I flippantly said, “Let’s do it.” But before I could get the shot, according to Kaiser’s policy, I had to get an MRI first, and so I did. Some days later after getting the MRI, my NP called me and asked, “Are you OK?” as if there was a reason that I shouldn’t be. “Yeah,” I said, a bit apprehensively. I was holding my breath for his next bit of news or doom and gloom; he didn’t disappoint me. “Your back’s a mess,” he informed me. Well I knew that my back was messed up, but with his informative words it suddenly felt worst. “Further," he continued, "they saw some possible problems lower down your back. They want to do another MRI.” We were now well into plan B.

I then saw my Physical Therapist. I told her of my impending walk, and asked her if she could help me in any way to insure my completion of the walk, and she said,” You’re doing what? Bernie, do you remember the bridge that collapsed in Minneapolis?” she asked incredulously. I cringed. This was not going to be a good session. “Duh,” I mumbled not really wanting to say anything. “Well, it worked until it didn’t. Your body is going to be like that bridge. I’ll try to help you, but I’m not a miracle worker.” At this point I must tell you that I like her and respect her work, but she scolds me a lot. She thinks that I’m a bit crazy. She once told me, “You need to more act your age.” I thought but did not say, "I’m going to buy my rocking chair as soon as I get back from the walk."

I needed some encouragement, so I went to my physical trainer. She knew that I really try to stay in shape. She’s seen me work my butt off hour after hour at the gym. I hoped that she would have something good to say about my plans, so I told her about the walk and she said, “Do you have to do this? You should see a sport’s doctor to tell you exactly what you can and cannot do.” So much for positive words.

I then called my friend Greg. He has back problems that make my ills look trivial. Compared to Greg, I’m healthy, so I thought that he would say, “Of course you can do this Bernie. Your back is so genki compared to mine that you can do this walk backwards.” Well so much for fantasy. Greg actually said, “Do you know how much your head weighs?” “Duh?” I replied again. The response is so proper for most questions that I don't have the answer to. “It weighs a lot and you’re going to be carrying it on top of your back the whole way. Do you know what that’s going to do to your back?” I spontaneously started to envision roller skates, large bowling balls, and Japanese hospitals in my mind, not necessarily in that order.

So everybody thought that I was crazy...except my chiropractor. He said that I should stay active and that my body would tell me when to slow down. I told him that I don’t always listen to my body and I don’t. Did I ever tell you of the camping trip that I went on just after getting a vasectomy? I asked that doctor if I could go on a camping trip and he said yes with the warning that my activities would be self-limiting. He didn’t know me very well. If he did, he should have locked me in my room. Anyway, my chiropractor is going to give me stretches for me to do every morning before walking and at regular intervals, and if they don’t work I’m going to catch the bus. I don’t want to be like that bridge in Minneapolis.