There are certain pains we incur that will debilitate us to the extent of utter paralysis.
For instance, a stubbed toe. Isn't it odd that we can walk, run, skip, kick and beat the living tar out of our feet, and yet clip that toe on a chair leg and we're cryin' for our mommas?
Or the infamous "funny bone" that is anything but funny when you smash it against a desk or door. Again, it takes us to a place where speech isn't even possible. We just writhe in pain.
And don't even get me started on a paper cut.
Last night I plopped down in front of my computer in hopes of cranking out some work to put myself at ease about looming deadlines. I admit, I was tense. But then I made a foolish mistake.
I got up from the computer and crawled directly into bed.
Remember, I was tense.
So I went to bed...tense.
But due to exhaustion, I slept anyway. But I slept...tense.
So when morning arrived, every muscle in my neck, shoulders and back was wound tighter than the belt of a Baptist minister at a church potluck.
I could not move. But nature was calling.
I enlisted help.
"Honey, I can't move and I really have to go to the bathroom. Please massage my neck for a minute so I can get out of bed."
My heroic, yet comatose husband asked no questions, just obliged. I am convinced he was not remotely coherent. The sweet soul just naturally defaulted to caring for me. Good thing, or he would have awakened in a pool of urine.
I managed to sling myself out of bed and whimpered to the bathroom.
I had become immobile overnight and I was starting to panic.
I shuffle to the cabinet for the muscle pain relieving cream and try not to scream like a banshee (yes, I just used the word banshee. I'm not myself when I hurt. Apparently, I'm my mother.) as I attempt to lift my arm to rub it into my neck and upper back.
Back pain, of any kind, is arguably worse than giving birth. And my last childbirth was a doozy, so I know of what I speak. It is the pain above all pain, because everything is connected. There's really no such thing as "just back pain" because eventually it creeps into everywhere else. Soon you can't move your arm, your head is throbbing, and the mere stubbing of a toe could quite possibly send you over the edge.
That edge is where I found myself this morning. I tried to be strong. I had kids to feed and send off to school, after all. I had responsibilites. There was no time for back pain.
But despite my best efforts, I was soon scrounging for the phone book to make a chiropractor appointment. I haven't been to one here yet, so the first office I try says, "I'm sorry, we don't have time for a new patient this morning."
Well, then guess what. I will never be your new patient.
My second option was successful. Hooray! They could get me in within a half hour. I was hopeful I'd be feeling better in no time.
But the diagnosis was not good. I was misaligned, my joints were surrounded by swelling, and I had massive muscle spasms. Sadly, I couldn't even get on and off the exam table without significant help.
It is a dreadful feeling to be so crippled.
Two treatments later and I'm not experiencing any greater mobility. I want to pluck the muscles out of my back and drive over them.
Years ago, I remember being prescribed muscle relaxers. I have been dreaming about them all day. I may find myself at the walk-in clinic by morning begging for a prescription.
But just watch, I'll finally have those relaxers within reach and in my excitement, I'll snatch the bag from the pharmacist...and get a paper cut.