In spring 2008, I consulted with a neurosurgeon who explained that my then chronic back pain was caused by a herniated disc in my lumbar spine. He said the disc was “incompetent” but not worthy of surgery, and told me to “get on with my life, carefully” and “avoid moving refrigerators.”
He also ordered 12 weeks of physical therapy, that taught me how to reduce, and eventually avoid, stress to my L4/L5 joint. For the occasions when I messed up and stressed that joint, I learned which postures and exercises to use to alleviate the problem.
In the years since, I’ve mostly managed to avoid any serious lower back pain. At least, until we had children.
A year ago, when the girls were still little, my back gave me a stern warning that I was pushing my luck. Sam and Cate were about ten pounds or so, but I was still reaching to lift them like the tiny preemies they had been. Well-admonished, I did some postural checks, rested my back for a day or two, and moved forward more carefully.
As the girls have grown and grown, I’ve become stronger and stronger. Every time they say, “Mama, up! p’ease?” I get more practice. I’m impressed by my own biceps for the first time since I was a childhood gymnast. And I’ve recently felt just rested and/or motivated enough to want to start working out again.
So ten days ago, Claudia and I started taking the girls for walks around the neighborhood… without a stroller. Sam and Cate are now strong enough to walk several blocks under their own locomotion. We’re practicing holding hands, waiting to cross streets together, and reading letters off of street signs. For example, both girls can name the ‘O’ in “STOP” and recognize that the ‘S’ is also for “Sam.”
Then, when the girls get tired of walking, they stop and ask for “up! sho-der, p’ease?” We each sweep a girl up on to our shoulders to finish the trek home. With Cate at 22+ pounds and Sam at 24+ pounds, it’s quite a workout. We walked that way three times last week, and I actually congratulated myself for working to get fit.
D’oh!
In retrospect, it’s obvious that my spine was not and never will be well-suited to balancing 20+ pounds of wiggly girl child on my shoulders. Nor is it suited to bouncing two girls, one on each hip, during solo bedtimes. And since I haven’t done any core strengthening exercises in a long time, it’s a wonder my back didn’t fail me sooner.
But Tuesday morning, I did one wrong lift too many (hoisting a girl on to the biggie potty, while seated Indian style on the floor), and slid down the slippery slope to trouble. I tried a little stretching but it was too little, too late.
By mid-morning, I was in crisis. Claudia and I had taken the girls to toddler story time at the Montrose Library, and after getting down onto the floor with all of the other moms, nannies, and toddlers, I couldn’t get up again. The librarian found me a wheeley office chair and rolled me out the employee side entrance, because I was unable to walk.
As an aside, Cate was very disconcerted that Mama was not ok, and stayed close by my side. But Sam took several opportunities to wander away, first around the front of the library, until another mom brought her back, and later around the circulation desk from the librarian side.
From the library, Claudia helped me hobble to the van, then drove us all home, and then helped me hobble to bed. It was time to feed the girls before naptime, but Cate refused to leave me. So I asked Claudia to bring their chairs to the bedroom and they ate a quick lunch by my side. Sam and Cate were obviously puzzled as to why I wouldn’t get up, so I explained that “Mama is stuck,” referencing a theme from two of their favorite truck stories. That prompted Sam, and then Cate, and then Sam to chant, “Mama stuck!” repeatedly (569 kb .m4a audio file). Pretty funny.
I managed to nap briefly while the girls napped, but by mid-afternoon, I couldn’t move without triggering massive, excruciating muscle spasms. I felt trapped in the worst back pain cascade I’ve ever endured. I knew that I needed medical relief, but I couldn’t figure out how to get there without triggering still more pain. Claudia took care of the girls while I cringed in bed, unable to figure out what to do.
Fortunately, several of you urged me to call my primary care practice, even though I hadn’t seem them in two years. And more fortunately, I reached Carol MB, the kind and familiar nurse practitioner, who listened patiently to my predicament, even as I suffered several spasms, and then gave me a pep talk. She told me that yes, it would hurt, but that I *must* get to an ER right away.
So Bill led the bedtime routine and put girls into their cribs, while I continued to cringe in bed. Sam made it to sleep soon thereafter, but Cate wailed for 40 minutes, very upset that Mama would not hold her or rock her. Once the girls were asleep, Bill gathered a few essentials, and then heroically lugged me like a giant, whimpering, sack of potatoes, to the RAV/4. Once there, Sharon bravely transported me to St. Luke’s, and stayed with me until the wee hours when I was finally discharged. (Thank you, Bill, and thank you, Sharon!)
Once diagnosed, I received a powerful cocktail of intramuscular shots: a corticosteroid to stem the inflammation, Valium to quiet the muscle spasms, and morphine to shut down the pain while the first two started to work. Within half an hour, I was finally able to sit without holding myself up on my elbows, and by the time we got home, I was able to lie down without flinching.
Since that fitful, but blessedly unpainful night of sleep, I’ve managed to avoid any additional back spasms. I’m alternately resting and hobbling around. I’m having to explain repeatedly to Cate and Sam that I can’t pick them up because I have an “ouchie” in my back. Three days in, Cate is beginning to accept that holding my hand to walk by my side is an acceptable substitute for being carried.
Finally, I’m waiting for a follow-up MRI that will reveal how badly I did/didn’t screw up my back this time. I hope that I’ve only backslid to some point I can work forward from again, and not done anything irreparable. We’ll see.
