For the last four days, I have been dealing with my first truly humbling episode of back pain. And when I say humbling, I don’t just mean that it put things in perspective, though it totally did. It also literally put me down – on all fours – for the first part of both Friday and Saturday. ‘Twas the first time in memory when I have honestly asked myself, Am I going to have to wet the bed?
(I didn’t. But getting my business done was a 20-minute strategic mission, every move requiring courage and tactical planning.)
How did this happen?
Well, I didn’t “put my back out” in a traditional sense, like when you fall on the ice and realize you’ve done damage. My back was kinda twinge-y on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, but I went to work and dance class as usual, moving cautiously. I’ve had minor pain many times and I know which stretches help. I know that walking can sometimes fix it. On Monday I even did my calisthenics (squats and diagonal pull-ups that day), because often small pains go away when I work out and stretch properly.
Then on Thursday I woke up and was like, Yowch. It was pretty bad. I was kind of hobbling while I got ready for work, but it was too late (and seemed silly) to call in sick. I remember laughing with Sean that I would just refrain from sitting down all day (not unreasonable for a teacher) and it would be fine.
Things did seem to be working themselves out, feeling better and almost normal. Then around 12:30 I squatted down to help a student put dictionaries under her desk leg (the adjustable screw had come out). Let me here state that I am not some willy-nilly squatter – I know how to use protective posture when getting down low. Still, on the third or fourth extension of my arm (with two student dictionaries in my hand), my back was like “HEY. That is ENOUGH, lady!” and stabbed me.
I don’t think the students noticed because I still managed to get up and stand mostly straight, but I was afraid to sit down for the rest of the day, for fear of not being able to stand back up. I spent some time lying down on the library carpet over lunch. I could still hug my knees (gingerly) at that point.
Many of my coworkers were very sympathetic – because if you know back pain, you know. One such colleague offered to switch my time with her class so I could leave early, and when I checked with the admin before leaving, our office coordinator offered to book me a supply teacher for Friday.
Thank goodness she did, because on Friday morning I could barely move.
Here are some things I’ve been thinking about, especially while lying down doing nothing:
- Acute back pain is scary, because everything you do feels like you’re making it worse. Your body is saying, “Wrong. Wrong. WRONG!!” all day. The feeling is total helplessness.
- If pain is a teacher, then lower back spasm is an irate, obsessive professor with a big ol’ strap to hit you with if you move one smidge out of line. But damned if it doesn’t work. I have learned so much, so quickly. Especially about leverage.
- My coworker (who has some experience with this) told me that a back spasm is protective. You can’t just massage it out – it needs to decide when it’s ready to let go. To me, this makes sense. My back is telling me to stop taking it for granted, and I’m listening.
- Because I really did take my mobility for granted, thinking this wouldn’t happen to me. I am no stranger to pain, and have a pretty high tolerance (so say nurses who have seen me in labour), but being immobilized by pain? Ha.
- To be fair, I did have reasons for my confidence. Not only am I a belly dancer, I also painstakingly repaired my diastasis recti through exercise. I am knowledgeable and vigilant about my core.
- All I can surmise is that my vigilance slipped during report card writing. I do tend to sit badly for long periods, without noticing my posture. Next time, I’ll set 30-minute timers for getting up and moving.
- Also… just as I’ve been writing this, I’ve remembered that I helped Sean get the new washing machine down the basement stairs last week. That might have been a contributing factor. But I didn’t feel pain at all at the time.
- Each of my legs weighs a ton. As does my torso. Holy crap, how did I lug these limbs around and frickin’… wield them all day without noticing??
- On that note, my sister Beth recently read Bill Bryson’s The Body: A Guide for Occupants, and told me about the pelvis being a fulcrum that does an inordinate amount of work, and boy! have I ever felt the truth of that.
- Stomach-sleeping is not my friend. (But I do love it so. But we’re on a break right now.)
- It’s also never been more clear that sitting is really not great for the human body. It makes my back very grouchy.
- Severe pain is exhausting. Friday morning I did a bunch of unexpected sleeping, as I lay carefully on my back, and also had no appetite for several hours.
- Continuous low-level pain is also pretty tiring, and apparently makes me emotional. I was kinda weepy by Day 2.
And now it’s time, predictably enough, for some Dilovely-ish gratitude.
- I’m grateful for my years of ballet, which have allowed me to plié in order to retrieve things, instead of bending over.
- I also feel grateful for the work I’ve done on improving my upper-body strength over the last year-and-a-half. That, plus a lot of sturdy counters and furniture, got me through Friday and much of Saturday.
- I’m actually kind of grateful for the pain, too. Now that things are getting easier, it’s still there to remind me of what not to do. In every single situation.
- Merci to my sweet lil AB, who stayed home from school on Friday (she has been fighting a bit of a cold – and winning – but I was feeling lenient that day). She got me a bowl of cereal and carefully arranged my heating pad, and other small tasks that were truly beyond me at that point.
- What would I do without Sean? He has picked up ALL the slack with nary a complaint. He literally got me dressed two days in a row. He’s the best.
- I’m grateful for the sympathy and care of my family and friends. It really does help to be reminded that you’re loved.
- There are so many what-ifs I’m so glad don’t apply: What if my kids were still babies? What if I were a single mom right now? What if I didn’t get sick days? And on and on. I’m incredibly fortunate.
- I have an intensified sympathy for people who live with chronic pain, and people who have mobility issues. Even though I know I’m on the upswing, I’m not going to forget how this felt. How much harder every little thing was. Again: so fortunate.
- Perhaps my favourite thing about staying in bed for hours at a time is how happy it makes the cats. They just wanna snooze with their humans.
Today, I stayed home again to be sure that A) I could dress myself in a timely manner and B) I could carry things up and down stairs without incident. Things that were not at all guaranteed yesterday, but today! I am doing things that were unthinkable two days ago. Walking with (alllmost) normal posture! Picking up things without outstretched arms! Standing up from sitting in one movement!
It’s a whole shiny new world.
***
Hooboy, you have my complete sympathy! Planned moves for every little thing — and planing not to move — oh, yes. Been there, done that (and have lived with chronic pain for decades!) — and yes, the things for which to be grateful are numerous indeed!
Your cousin L. has a herniated disc, which can give you another reason for gratitude: your living isn’t dependent on doing actual physical labour.
I hope that you continue to improve (and so does AB) and that it never, never, NEVER happens again!
Thank you, Auntie. <3 <3
I'm so sorry you have had so much pain to live with in your life. It is really hard to be the person one wants and intends to be when in pain. I get frequent headaches (though not nearly as many now that I regularly see a nerve-entrapment specialist) and I find my general coping skills are inversely proportional to the strength of my headache.
Is there no way to repair a herniated disc? That sounds awful. I am indeed glad there's very rarely physical labour in my job, though it's funny... talking to Emi on Sunday, she was mentioning how lucky she was, when she had a similar issue last summer, that she could just work from home and didn't have to show up anywhere, climb stairs, etc. There's always someone (so muchly much much) more unlucky than you!
I have been dealing with exactly the same thing since last Tuesday, laundry day. Overdid the upping and downing on stairs and lugging heavy hampers. I spent two days pretty much in bed, and a couple in chairs between naps. I have worked up to being able to work in the kitchen or clean a bit, but after 30 min. I need to sit. Take it slow, according to my husband. Don’t think one day, I’m good, back to normal. Nope, don’t push or you’ll move backwards.
Yes, that’s what I’m so afraid of! Setting myself back by rushing. Or by just trying to soldier on (so to speak) when I know I need to rest. I am definitely still nervous about laundry hampers – that’s a long-term goal.
PS, I love my heating pad.
I have a whole new level of love for my heating pad too. Ahhhhh. I think I’ll go hang out with it right now.
I also have dealt with lumbar (and debilitating injuries) and you have my sympathy! There are ways to make laundry lugging easier. For the dirty laundry that needs to go downstairs I’ve found that “packaging” it in a laundry bag, pillow cases, garbage bag or whatever and then just letting it roll downstairs on it’s own works well. Going upstairs, if you’re using a plastic basket, you can slide it up the steps or on the handrail.
Oh! Brilliant strategies, Hilda! I’ll remember those. 🙂