You're a right pain in the...
Last Sunday (Labor Day weekend), I had a lunch date with Rosie. We were going to get some Dim Sum. I roused myself and stumbled to the shower. I chose to wash my hair with a different shampoo that was lower down on the shower caddy and as I reached for it, I felt what was unmistakeably my lower back going out.
It wasn't so bad, and I continued to get dressed (clumsily) and got into the car, heading for Dim Sum. I parked, I walked (in a manner of speaking), and settled myself down for some yummy pork buns and shu mei. I explained to Rosie what had happened and I played it down because she looked horrified. No biggie, I said. If it were, I wouldn't be here!
Afterwards, I was a bit stiff getting up and couldn't sling my purse over my shoulder and gave a pathetic imitation of a hug. I shuffled and stumbled to the car, and once home I could barely walk inside. I think Aaron was a bit surprised, since I had left feeling much more ambulatory, and I just stumbled onto something (couch or bed) and lay there for a while. It hurt so bad to get up/move/walk/go to the bathroom, that I was bent in half and after fighting back the tears of pain, just let them flow.
I first had my back go out at a retreat in high school. Sitting on the floor is a ridiculous notion, and having done it for a couple days (terrible posture), I bent over to pick up my guitar in it's hard case and out went the back. I wasn't even aware of what was happening, just that something popped and it didn't feel good.
That, so they say, was the beginning of the end. It happened during my first semester of college and I had to miss a couple days. Luckily, some of the professors knew what it was like and let me fly by. I don't really remember it happening very much until after graduation and working at the Diocese. The last time it happened before this one was in April-and I hope you can appreciate how close April and September are to each other.
April was bad. We were moving to our new apartment and the place was a mess. I was trying to be helpful and pitch in as much as everyone else, but after taking a load to my car, which was far since I was unable to park close, I realized I was done. I just sat in the car and once I drove to our new place, I could barely walk across the street. I was very surprised by that one, since there was no definitive moment, just a realization and then pain. I had to miss the symphony that night and could barely hold a chimichanga. It hurt to lower myself onto the commode, but I was back in the game in no time.
This last time was the worst, by far. The definitive pain. I was pathetically helpless. Aaron sacrificed his weekend to take care of me. I was in bed all day Sunday, which was hell day. I could hardly lift myself up, swing my legs out of bed, turn over, etc. It wasn't like I didn't try, but when each ginger movement is met with a spasm of pain, you tend to just lie in one pained position because it hurts less than moving around.
Day two was Monday, Labor Day, and I made the effort to go to the couch and spent most of the day there. I encouraged Aaron to meet up with some friends, because I was poor company. My spirits had improved, but my ability to do things was still greatly limited. I couldn't pour myself a glass of water. I couldn't lift more than a glass of water. I did make it into the shower and just stood there for a while. My hair had become so tangled after Sunday in bed, that it took me a good hour to try to separate out the knots.
Mind you that all of this occurred during the single hottest and most humid weekend in recent memory. It certainly didn't feel like fall when temperatures were over 90 and reportedly over 100 in the county. Sweat was pouring off us as we sat around in a state of undress with fans on and windows open. I would have spent the weekend at Tea Station and at movie theaters if my back had permitted: one is naturally the coldest place in San Diego, the other is a bastion of A/C.
So this past week has been a struggle. I made it to the second half of work on Tuesday. That was my first time out of the house since Dim Sum, first time in a car, and first time driving. I drive stick shift, which is a bit more active than automatic. I managed to get to work, but was stumbling like a zombie to get into the building. Throwing down my now greatly lightened purse, I threw myself into making it the last few steps to my boss's office and fell into a chair with my eyes streaming.
I don't think of myself as a pain wimp or a big crier, so it's rather embarrassing and uncommon for me to be weeping all over the place. I had a couple events last week and with a combination of help from other people and using carts and dollies, I was able to get everything done. This Saturday is a huge Convention Center event, for which our office is responsible for the ballroom and a two liturgies. It's a toss up between this and Rite of Election as the most taxing event: both are at the SD Convention Center... but this is worse since it's on the second floor and everything has to be taken up on freight elevators and then through the Sails Pavilion and over ... ugh. When we have downstairs halls, we can drive the delivery truck inside.
Anyway, I've done a large amount of computer work towards this event, but I haven't even started with the physical stuff. I am afraid that I'm going to push myself too hard and injure my back even more. But what can I do, live in fear? Obviously I'm going to start going to a chiropractor and doing back exercises, but I don't want to exacerbate the problem now.
This weekend wash much better, except that I don't think there's a single chair at Martin's house which is good for my back. I have been much more active and from the outside it would seem that I am operating normally, but I'm acutely aware of my own sensitivity and am trying to lessen the impact of my movement on my back.
It wasn't so bad, and I continued to get dressed (clumsily) and got into the car, heading for Dim Sum. I parked, I walked (in a manner of speaking), and settled myself down for some yummy pork buns and shu mei. I explained to Rosie what had happened and I played it down because she looked horrified. No biggie, I said. If it were, I wouldn't be here!
Afterwards, I was a bit stiff getting up and couldn't sling my purse over my shoulder and gave a pathetic imitation of a hug. I shuffled and stumbled to the car, and once home I could barely walk inside. I think Aaron was a bit surprised, since I had left feeling much more ambulatory, and I just stumbled onto something (couch or bed) and lay there for a while. It hurt so bad to get up/move/walk/go to the bathroom, that I was bent in half and after fighting back the tears of pain, just let them flow.
I first had my back go out at a retreat in high school. Sitting on the floor is a ridiculous notion, and having done it for a couple days (terrible posture), I bent over to pick up my guitar in it's hard case and out went the back. I wasn't even aware of what was happening, just that something popped and it didn't feel good.
That, so they say, was the beginning of the end. It happened during my first semester of college and I had to miss a couple days. Luckily, some of the professors knew what it was like and let me fly by. I don't really remember it happening very much until after graduation and working at the Diocese. The last time it happened before this one was in April-and I hope you can appreciate how close April and September are to each other.
April was bad. We were moving to our new apartment and the place was a mess. I was trying to be helpful and pitch in as much as everyone else, but after taking a load to my car, which was far since I was unable to park close, I realized I was done. I just sat in the car and once I drove to our new place, I could barely walk across the street. I was very surprised by that one, since there was no definitive moment, just a realization and then pain. I had to miss the symphony that night and could barely hold a chimichanga. It hurt to lower myself onto the commode, but I was back in the game in no time.
This last time was the worst, by far. The definitive pain. I was pathetically helpless. Aaron sacrificed his weekend to take care of me. I was in bed all day Sunday, which was hell day. I could hardly lift myself up, swing my legs out of bed, turn over, etc. It wasn't like I didn't try, but when each ginger movement is met with a spasm of pain, you tend to just lie in one pained position because it hurts less than moving around.
Day two was Monday, Labor Day, and I made the effort to go to the couch and spent most of the day there. I encouraged Aaron to meet up with some friends, because I was poor company. My spirits had improved, but my ability to do things was still greatly limited. I couldn't pour myself a glass of water. I couldn't lift more than a glass of water. I did make it into the shower and just stood there for a while. My hair had become so tangled after Sunday in bed, that it took me a good hour to try to separate out the knots.
Mind you that all of this occurred during the single hottest and most humid weekend in recent memory. It certainly didn't feel like fall when temperatures were over 90 and reportedly over 100 in the county. Sweat was pouring off us as we sat around in a state of undress with fans on and windows open. I would have spent the weekend at Tea Station and at movie theaters if my back had permitted: one is naturally the coldest place in San Diego, the other is a bastion of A/C.
So this past week has been a struggle. I made it to the second half of work on Tuesday. That was my first time out of the house since Dim Sum, first time in a car, and first time driving. I drive stick shift, which is a bit more active than automatic. I managed to get to work, but was stumbling like a zombie to get into the building. Throwing down my now greatly lightened purse, I threw myself into making it the last few steps to my boss's office and fell into a chair with my eyes streaming.
I don't think of myself as a pain wimp or a big crier, so it's rather embarrassing and uncommon for me to be weeping all over the place. I had a couple events last week and with a combination of help from other people and using carts and dollies, I was able to get everything done. This Saturday is a huge Convention Center event, for which our office is responsible for the ballroom and a two liturgies. It's a toss up between this and Rite of Election as the most taxing event: both are at the SD Convention Center... but this is worse since it's on the second floor and everything has to be taken up on freight elevators and then through the Sails Pavilion and over ... ugh. When we have downstairs halls, we can drive the delivery truck inside.
Anyway, I've done a large amount of computer work towards this event, but I haven't even started with the physical stuff. I am afraid that I'm going to push myself too hard and injure my back even more. But what can I do, live in fear? Obviously I'm going to start going to a chiropractor and doing back exercises, but I don't want to exacerbate the problem now.
This weekend wash much better, except that I don't think there's a single chair at Martin's house which is good for my back. I have been much more active and from the outside it would seem that I am operating normally, but I'm acutely aware of my own sensitivity and am trying to lessen the impact of my movement on my back.