Back in the Future

This is an account of my personal history. My backstory, as it were. Not what happened to me way back in my past. I’m talking about is my back (aka my spine) in the present, and my back in the future.

Like tens of millions of people in the United States— and probably millions upon millions throughout the world— I have lower back pain. I don’t know of anyone who endures upper (cervical) or middle (thoracic) back pain, though I’m certain there are many who do. Chronic back pain usually manifest itself in the lumbar region, those ignominious vertebrae know as L-4 and L-5 in particular, and even lower, into the S-1 (sacrum). Yeah, right where the soft, pulpy and cushioned discs that separate each vertebra absorb the most pressure. Over the course of time, they incur wear and tear, breaking down and losing their bulk. For some, this diminishing of the discs is not so egregious as to cause any physical disturbances. But for others, the discs can erode to the point of failing to do their job adequately. And now, after all these years, mine are doing just that — failing. Like a double-cream filled Oreo being reduced to the original ones with half the filling.

My somewhat exaggerated curvature of the spine — lordosis is the medical term for what is commonly known as swayback — gave me a head start (I believe) towards my current back woes. I can’t say whether every sway-backed person is doomed to the ravages of back pain in their later years, but I’ll wager even money on it.

My normal sleeping position growing up was on my stomach. I’d usually start off on either side, but would always end up on my stomach. And so it went, until I hit my late 20s, when I started feeling pressure in my lower back when lying on my stomach. I still vividly recall the dismay I felt at no longer being able to not only sleep on my stomach, but even lie on it for any length of time before discomfort would set in. Needless to say, it took some getting used to. Honestly, I never really quite got used to it; for many years, I mourned my inability to sleep on my stomach just about every night. Even now, I miss it, moving from one side to the other in desperate compensation, even lying on my back at times (though not without a pillow under my knees in deference to my lower back!).

Over time, my back began to ‘chirp’ a little. The pain would be sharp and unexpected, predicated by some sort of sudden movement. Once, it happened when I picked up my younger sister in a display of joy and affection. I would suffer some temporary discomfort, but would rebound nicely. But as I moved into, and through, the middle ages, my back began to make more noise. It still wasn’t ‘chronic’ — at least not to me. And it wasn’t debilitating. I could still ride my back off-road, play racquetball without hindrance three times a week, and walk normally. But the encroachment began to evidence itself in the ensuing years.

Then, sometime in the summer of 2019, I started experiencing sciatic symptoms. It was just speculation on my part at first. I had a vague notion of what sciatica was, but had never delved into the nuts and bolts of it. But it began to affect my gait. Sporadically at first, then a little more often and with increased severity. But then, mysteriously, the pain would vanish. Hmm. No need to see a doctor about it. (A “Typical Male,” as Tina Turner sang about, though she meant something different.)

At the beginning of 2021, my sciatic symptoms returned, and this time they decided to take permanent residence. The pain was more severe and persistent. I couldn’t walk without being in ‘grunting’ pain, and looking like I was in pain. I don’t consider myself to be a vain man, but as the late Latin lover Fernando Lamas once said in his latter years as a guest on the Johnny Carson show, “It is better to look good than to feel good.” In addition to the back pain I was experiencing, the sciatica was literally making me a cripple, running down from the pinched nerve in my back, through my right hip, and down the leg. I had to bend over periodically when standing or walking to relive the pressure. Not a good look, people. Luckily, I was working from home at the time because of COVID-19, and didn’t go out much. Since then, mere standing and walking has been an uncomfortable proposition for me.

I finally broke down and saw a chiropractor. X-rays, and later an MRI, revealed two bulging and degenerated discs — L4 and L-5 — causing pressure and irritation to my sciatic nerve. I also have some spinal stenosis. After a few weeks of chiropractic treatment — at about one hundred dollars per week— I decided to forget that noise and discontinue the treatments. I did continue to do the recommended exercises. Meanwhile, my psyche was being battered and bruised. After a lifetime of being active and athletic, I was reduced to neither looking good nor feeling good.

Unless sitting down, I was in pain. Walking to the car was a struggle. I dreaded leaving the house. (Luckily, I was working from home.) I started having my groceries delivered. Sleeping became another form of hell. I had to make a few painful adjustments in my sleeping position before finding the magic bullet to relieve the pain. I dreaded going to bed.

Finally, on some folk's suggestion, I explored the benefits of the Teeter Table, which is designed to decompress the spine through body inversion. It can be adjusted to varying degrees of inversion, ending in hanging completely upside down. I began to feel some improvement, but it ain’t like what Jesus would have done.

I’ve been in constant warfare with my back for the past 18 months now. I’ve had some physical therapy and am now in the care of a pain management doctor. When reading my MRI disc, he discovered I also have arthritis in my back. WTF! Getting some shots in the back is now on the agenda. I had previously resisted going that route, but now realize it may be my only road to pain relief. It won’t be the epidural shot. More like a couple of ‘trigger’ shots. I definitely don’t want surgery — at least not now.

Meanwhile, I’ve learned a lot about physical anatomy in general and, of course, the back in particular. I’ve also explored the value of nutrition, and how one’s state of mind affects the human body’s ability to heal itself. I’m waging the battle of mind over matter and have refused to indulge myself in pity. Furthermore, I’m faithful to my daily therapeutic exercise regimen, and hanging on my Teeter table like a sloth at least once a day. I practice some yoga stretches. And I’ve learned that movement of joints helps reduce the symptoms of arthritis. I’ve taken up lifting weights on the regular and swimming a couple of times weekly. Staying active is a must for me. And it can only help my condition.

For now, my pain varies. Some days, the back is ornery, and I don’t find much comfort when standing or walking. Other days, it’s not too bad, and I walk with only a trace of discomfort. I’ll see what relief the shots provide, and for how long. I’ve not played racquetball since December 18, 2019, the night I broke my fibula. It healed rather nicely, and I was out of the walking boot by the end of January 2021. That’s when the back kicked in. Or should I say, backed in?

I haven’t quite given up the hope of playing racquetball again, by the way. The struggle continues.