Goodbye Gumby. Hello axolotl.

Age 18. My Northwestern University Theatre Prof cast me in the wacko musical, “A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to The Forum.” My starring dance role? Standing on my right leg, I held my left leg next to my ear. Yes, ear. My best friend Peggy, an exquisite tiny dancer, twirled under my leg. For five excruciating minutes. Under blindingly bright, hot lights, we thrilled to thunderous applause by friends and family.

Peggy and I killed it. Standing ovations every night. Pictures of us in “The Daily Northwestern.” Fellow classmates begging for our autographs. Walking to classes, I loved the cat calls: “Hey Gumby. Way to go.” Ahhhhh, Fame, college style.
After graduation, the world and I forgot about my silly dance number. I said yes to journalism opportunities in TV, public relations and lucky me, became a globetrotting Travel Journalist for global magazines and newspapers. I wrote stage plays, painted whimsical artworks, and created a popular YouTube comedy video, “May I Call You Sister?” I kept pretty gumbyesque, with classes in Zumba, Pilates, Yoga, and daily stretching.

Age 71. I celebrated with my beautiful life loving gal pals, including my NU Kappa friend/housemate Marcia Corenman, a true world traveler with her own success stories and adventure tales. But 24 hours after my happy birthday party, I was attacked.

Something terrible took over my body. I could barely walk, hardly sit, and getting out of bed was excruciating. I begged for an appointment with my local pain management doctor, who diagnosed me with sciatica. White lightning scorched down my leg, giving me tingling feet, as I became an old stiff tree.

“What did I do to myself, doc?” I moaned.

“You got older, Sharon,” he said. “Your back discs are pressing on nerves, creating the pain shooting down your leg.”

The same leg I’d held against my ear….so many years ago. How could my once flexible, almost famous, leg betray me so cruelly?

“I’m putting you on steroids to reduce inflammation,” advised the good doc, “and prescribing six weeks of physical therapy with a sciatica specialist. And no yoga!” he commanded.

Everyone at the PT gym was on walkers, canes, and braces. Black tights, grey t shirts, white hair. Did these people ever exercise? Ever. My ego was slammed. What was I doing with all these damaged oldsters?

I was one of them. “YOU’RE a damaged oldster, Sharon,” I told myself. “And doomed, unless the physical therapy heals you back to Gumby.”
I took the steroids, dutifully obeyed my physical therapist’s painful exercise coaching, and tried not to be depressed. Without my cheerful yoga buddies, I had way too much time on my hands.

I read “West with Giraffes,” an incredible true story of two giraffes saved from drowning and their journey by truck from New York to California. And “Tom Lake,” about a woman who chooses farm life over theatre. I opened my heart to the sacred poet Rumi: “In the end it is not the things we did that we regret, but the things we left undone, the words left unspoken, the dreams left unfulfilled.”

Reading “World of Wonders” by Aimee Nezhukumatathil, I learned about a most astonishing creature, a salamander known as the axolotl, the “Mexican Walking Fish.” They live in lakes, sporting angelic smiles, and shimmering ivory, swampy brown, and rose gold bodies. They have comical feathery external gills on stalks, grow a foot long, and here the Miracle: When an axolotl loses a body part such as a wrist, elbow, upper arm, even a spinal cord…the axolotl grows it back.

Yes, true. According to Scientific American, tests by lab technicians involving amputation of limbs, (and it hurts to think about this cruel testing), the axolotl grows back its limbs and keeps on smiling. No matter what.

This got my attention. During my sciatica trauma, I wondered…what could I grow back? Not my former leg to ear fame. But something spiritual? Could I grow more considerate? More kind? More courage to push my limits?

I decided to donate my new children’s book, “Where is the Magic?” to local non-profits. The Boys&Girls club. Our local Habitat for Humanity. Our no kill animal shelter, Palmetto Animal League. Breast cancer awareness. The Symphony fundraiser.

I decided to up my volunteer hours…at the library, the art gallery, our local theatre. I sent donations to victims of Helene and Milton hurricanes. We adopted a kitten from our shelter, so Ginger cat can have a baby sister.

I asked my husband if we could indulge in our two “Before We Die” trips to Alaska and Africa. Book em, he said. If not now, when? Age 72, we’ll be eye to eye with African lions and Alaskan bears.

And I realized at physical therapy, some of those old folks were once young and gumby too. Did any of them stand on one leg, holding the other leg against an ear, while a ballerina twirled round and round? I’m going to ask them, what’s your story folks? May I tell you about the incredible amazing axolotl?

Sharon Baker is Author of “Where is The Magic” available on Amazon, and at Low Country Fresh Market, Bluffton SC. Contact her sharonspencelieb@gmail.com.