Oh My Aching Back

I’ve done it reaching for toilet paper.  This time it was bending down to pick up a cup – a very light, unheavy, glass half full of water.  I pulled my lower back out on New Year’s Eve morning helping Julie straighten up for the cleaning ladies who showed up unexpectedly.

That begs the question, “Why do we cleanup for the cleaning ladies?”  I don’t do any prep work for the yardman.  Well, if I had a yardman I’m certain I wouldn’t pre-mow.

There is a guy at work who has a ton of back pain.  I have jabbed about it – referring to him as Broken Back Boy.  I will not do that again.  This is not funny.  Not funny AT ALL.

It has been a week, and I can just now wipe myself without excruciating pain.

You know you’re in a bad spot when…

IT HURTS LIKE HELL TO WIPE YOUR BUTT!

It is the little things I take for granted.

Who knew putting your socks on could be such a challenge.  Julie did it the first day, but then she had to go back to her house.  Then it was up to me.  I’d bend over as far as I could, hold the very edge of the sock with my longest fingers and then toss the sock toward my big toe in the hopes I’d get some traction so I could pull back into my comfort zone and get those little boogers up my calves.  It was a loafer kind of week.  Tying was out of the question.

Thank goodness I’m a slight guy.  At night I’d gently lay on the edge of the bed, then take my left hand, grab the side of my boxers and drag my body toward the middle of my Mattress Firm, which it ends up is not even that firm.  The nightstand was my grip to get out the next day.  I didn’t even consider a mid night bathroom run.  OUT OF THE QUESTION.

My children are ribbing me, mocking me when they walk past in a bent position with their hand on their back yelling strings of sentences with silences to represent the bleeping out of curse words.

A lady at work left a walker in my office.  I tried to use it but it was too short.

I’ve been to a chiropractor three times.  I got a therapeutic massage.  My MD gave me a muscle relaxer.  I’ve taken more ibuprofen than there are stars in the sky.  And my back is still as tight as a tic.

Is this what old looks like?  Will this happen more often?  Are other things going to go out of whack?

No.  That can’t be the case.  I’m only 53.  This must be a fluke.

 

 

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3 Comments

  1. Jean Ham

     /  January 9, 2019

    You’re not old. You’re pre-old. That is a stage you go through in order to get used to being old. Little things happen here and there to your body so that you can get used to the idea of being old. it’s a gradual kind of thing. You’ll get used to it. Now I’m old! You’ve been telling me that since I was thirty. I think I need to begin telling you that you are old to help you ease into the next stage. Then it won’t be such a jolt when old really comes. Enjoy the “well” times. There will be more pre-old things that happen to you. You have my sympathy but you will get through this. I think some of these things happen to help you appreciate the “well times”.

    Reply
  2. Ac Snow

     /  January 9, 2019

    Danny, enjoyed your column. But forty whacks for misusing lay. Someone of your literary stature knows better of course so I’ll classify this one as a typo…meanwhile forgive me my treapasses….cheers….ac——————————————–

    Reply
  3. Aunt Susan

     /  January 10, 2019

    Well I used to agree with your Mom in most everything, but I”m not too sure about Pre Old, I think you are old!

    do get better soon. hope to see you sometime!

    Reply

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