OOOH......IT'S A PAIN IN THE..................BACK!

Many many moons ago I fronted up to our local brand spanking new sports centre for a complementary aerobics session and spa courtesy of a friend who’d just joined up. This’d be a bit of fun I thought, but it proved to be my first and last aerobics lesson, for the next day I was in hospital trying to undo the damage, and now, 26 years later, I am still paying the price. Seems the innocent enough stretching exercise sitting on the mat was my undoing, and I now know why so many programs include the disclaimer of suggesting you seek doctor’s advice before embarking on such endeavours which I discovered were fraught with danger. Not that I’d ever had a problem with my back before then, but since that day my poor body hasn’t been the same.

Without boring you with the details of how many visits I’ve had back and forth to doctors and physios, being carted off to hospital in screaming agony because I’m stuck and can’t get up or down, Xrays of this and that which don’t show anything amiss, medication of one sort or another, I’m now back in that unfortunate place where I have to go back to square one and deal with the debilitating pain before I can come out the other side and be properly functional again. For some reason, in all those years, no-one had thought to investigate any further to come up with a definitive diagnosis, so it wasn’t until I pushed four years ago that I had a CT scan which revealed three protrubing lumbar discs which had a habit of moving a millimeter or two and getting themselves jammed in between the vertebrae. Pain, pain, spasm, spasm.

Gotta get up and walk around, even sitting for two paragraphs doesn’t help.

Back again. I have long abandoned the advice which seemed to be the norm in the past, that of rest and lying flat on your back. All that did was seize me up completely and prolong the problem, so I experimented with keeping as mobile as possible within the confines of what I was able, which has been borne out in advice of more recent years. Sitting doesn’t help, going to bed is the worst, especially when the only way you can get out again is to slither backwards on your stomach then crawl on hands and knees to where you can hang on to something you’re not going to rip out of the wall to pull yourself up again. Long hot showers are the best time of day, too bad about the environmental impact, this is survival.

It’s been four years since I had to endure one of these extreme episodes. 95% of the time I manage the restrictions of the original injury well, but I didn’t anticipate getting a plate out of the cupboard for my morning toast was going to jeopardise my wellbeing. So, this is Day 3, thank goodness it’s the weekend. With some happy pills to help me get through the first few agonizing days I’m back to doing gentle mobilization routines on the floor and the exercise ball, my neighbours have been kind enough to bring in my shopping and stack wood in the heater, the place is cosy and warm and I’m watching old movies ‘cause there’s nothing decent on TV. Even managed to do the last two day’s dishes.

Soup for dinner, no energy to attempt anything more adventurous.