I have had a bad back since I was 30, the first time one of my vertebra subluxated or whatever it is that the chiropractors say.
For the last two months, my back keeps going out and going out again. It is always at the same spot on my back, probably about three v's up from my butt but the strain and clench can go left, it can go right, and it can even go dead center - this pain has no loyalty to one spot.
Last night, my chiropractor told me I was hopelessly twisted and it would take three years to straighten out. Now I don't have three years to go to him twice a week when I can't even pay him now for the semi-periodic adjustment. My chiro, Roger, is a true healer -- like a homeopath, he sees chiropractic not just as a remedy for acute conditions but as a way of not developing those conditions in the first place. "Twice a week you should have your back checked," he said. Not a fan of situps or cold stretching, or really any stretching at all, Roger said "if something goes out in your back and there are no muscles there to pull it back, well, that's it."
So now I'm left wondering: why do anything at all?
The truth is, I used to be a gym and Pilates fanatic. I weighed 129 for many years, which for my medium 5ft. 6 inch frame was really a good weight. Still, if I tried to run or increase my Pilates intensity, my back went out. I loved running and I hated my back.
So here is where else I feel deprived: my body is betraying me, this time in a way that I am frightened it will not return to normal. I should just sit in bed and write, eat chocolate, read Andy Borowitz on politics because he's the only one who makes any sense, and forget all this about strengthening, growing, changing.
Not a chance. Today I have started writing letters to magazines for which I want to write. The good news is: I can actually write. More good news: writing has nothing to do with my back.
More on this later.
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