SPROING

No, not a typo. That is what happened to me.

It's been a tough few days, and I'm discouraged. Saturday, I got a quick productive start, but slowed way down later in the day. I woke in the wee hours Sunday to realize I had a major migraine underway, which explains the previous slow-down. This was an 8 on the 10-point scale, very high in my experience as I flinched away from light and wimpered at any sound. I took the dreaded migraine meds - because it had to be better than what I was feeling - and got a very slow start to the day. But they worked! And I got things done later Sunday. This included doing my mother's taxes (which means completing a checklist and mailing them to her accountant) and cooking some good food to last during the week. Chili! For late afternoon snacks!

So Monday, feeling good about being organized and caught up, grateful for the effective migraine meds, I was all dressed and ready for work, lunch and snack packed on the counter, only walk and feed the dog before leaving. I bent over to hitch up my socks, and SPROING! something in my back ... searching for the word... snapped? (no) stretched? (not quite) back to ... snapped/stretched/tightened into place (the wrong place) and suddenly I was in fierce pain and severely handicapped. I have had my back "go out" before, but never so clearly at once and so very very painfully. I grabbed tylenol quickly, and kept shuffling around trying to get ready as the realization slowly sunk in that going to work would be impossible.

Now, two days later, I'm trying to recapture what that intense feeling was like. I have sometimes wondered to myself when people say "I can't straighten up" or "I can't bend over" if they mean they really physically can't or if it's too painful to do so. My experience was both were true - not only was it hugely painful to try, but there was a physical inability to move certain ways. Basically, I couldn't bend at the waist. I called a support person at work, went over the calendar and a few other things, then took a muscle relaxant I had on hand from the last time something like this (but not this, not nearly so intense) happened.

I had to feed the dog before I could get flat. (If you've met the Very Hungry Labrador you would understand this is not optional.)  I had to get his heavy dish off the floor (a squat) go down to the basement, and scoop food out of a nearly empty tall garbage can where it is stored. I couldn't get the food. I couldn't bend over to reach it. I was holding on to the heavy ceramic dish. I dropped to my knees but then my arm was not long enough to fit over the edge of the can and reach the food at the bottom. It was comical and pathetic. I pulled myself to standing using the can, and with a combination bend and squat made a swooping scoop of food and got it into the dish. I nearly passed out with pain and had to clutch the door jam to keep from falling as my head swirled. Unbelievably, the dish with food in it made climbing the basement stairs hell - too heavy to hold with one trembling hand, pulling myself up with the other on the railing, every step fighting gravity was torture on the base of my spine. I started to worry I had some actual damage to my spine, not just a muscle spasm. I dropped the dish into the dog's crate with relief and worry.

I made a nest on the floor with pillows and a down comforter and awkwardly allowed myself to drop down. Many pillows under the knees to make my lower back flat against the floor, with a heating pad. I had my phone and ipad and a glass of water with a straw in arms reach. I remembered my mother and her back problems, holding her back from doing things on and off all of her life. I contemplated life as a cripple. And I wondered if my back went out as an exit strategy from the office.  I hurt. Lots. I think "10" on a scale of one to ten is something I've never experienced, but this came as close as I ever have. I realized I couldn't drive myself to the doctor if I needed to go. I couldn't think what a doctor would do anyway, except stronger pain killers that would destroy my mind. But what if I had an actual injury that needed treatment? What was going to become of me?

This was where mindfulness came in and rescued me. I had my phone, and my "10% Happier" app has several guided meditations about pain. Living with pain, finding balance with pain, accomodating the pain instead of trying to push it away. I was able to focus, and sort out what I was actually feeling from what I was thinking and anticipating and planning for. With my focus on my breath, I was able to more clearly feel what was happening in my body (it hurt, not all over, not always at a "9") and what horrible things might be happening and could happen and had happened in the past were NOT what was actually happening. I meditated, I dozed, I listened to my book from audible (about ultra running, ironically). When the scheduled dog walker came at noon, I pulled myself up and walked around the house and worked my arms and tryed to tune in to what I was actually feeling. I couldn't sit in a chair to eat lunch, but I was definitely down to a "7" in the pain. Wasn't going to be going to the gym as planned that night, but clearly getting better.

Fewest number of steps since I've been counting.

Afternoon and evening in the house, more of the same. Slight improvements, so that night I was able to turn onto my side to sleep. It's hard to describe the relief that comes from being able to get into my favorite position to sleep. Tuesday, I called into work and teleworked a full work day, still not sitting in a chair very much, but trying to walk around the house.

Today is a snow day. My self image is a tough musher, who could strap on her snow shoes and get to the grocery store if I needed to. But no, not today. Not going to do any shoveling. But I am going to work out - those arm and leg exercises that don't actively irritate the back. I'm going to do the physical therapy routines I've learned. If it's not almost entirely better by Friday, I'll see about getting some additional annoying and logistically complicated physical therapy going again. I am going to be an active person. I am not going to be an invalid.

New High

Me, dressed in clean-the-house clothes,
right after seeing the new high weight on the scale.

Not in a good way. Hit a new weight mark that ends in a zero. On the way up. Yikes.

I mused on my current situation on the forum website for my mindful eating program. This is the first time in a couple of months. The sad fact is evidence says mindful eating is not turning out to be a good strategy for me. But I'm not ready yet to declare defeat.

Here is a clip from my analysis. I've established three specific problems to apply mindful techniques to. We'll see how this works.

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Another specific problem is in the late afternoon, especially on workdays where my schedule is driven externally. Sometime between 2 and 5 pm, I have a serious decline in energy. I have paid enough attention to know I am actually hungry, so I have been experimenting with healthy snacks. It’s not working. Last week, for instance, I had a quarter cup (measured) of macademia nuts and two clementine oranges. This was very tasty, but I was still hungry and not re-energized. Eating candy (always available) becomes the next course, and it helps on the energy, but it quickly gets out of hand. I am often in the office finishing up paperwork until 7 and am not home before 8.

My new experiment will be to actually bring a serious but small meal for 4-5 pm. When I think about snacks, I think “celery and almond butter” or some such: nuts and something fruity or vegetably. But I’m going to try to bring a small portion of something much more substantial, and that may include something more whole food carby, like chili with beans is appealing to me. Or a chopped salad, not so much on the leafy greens but rather dense with brocolli and salami and olives. (I normally eat a more basic salad for lunch, lettuce and spinach and meat and dressing.) It’s important this late small meal be very easy to eat at my desk, no time for anything else. I do have access to a refridgerator and microwave.

My last problem is most often later at night, though on weekends it’s not necessarily late. It’s just being home. I want a sweet treat. I’m not hungry. It’s not a physically defined craving. It’s in my head. It’s all about pleasure and being cared-for. It’s a reward. I’ve tried the hot cup of tea and very rarely that helps. But my ideal is to not have to swear off sweets, because I like them so much. My ideal is to be able to have a cordial relationship with exquisitely wonderful small portions of snacks. So far, that’s worked maybe 5% of the time. The rest of the time, it gets out of hand quickly. My only strategy on that is to be mindful, focus on second gear. When asking the question “what am I getting from this?” I have a clear answer: I get pleasure, and earlier in the day I get anticipation of pleasure, as I eat wisely and well and mindfully. The pleasure doesn’t carry through way too much food, but it’s there at the beginning and I can’t see my way to saying “no, you won’t have that pleasure.” Thinking about it, that is a path to denial which is likely to backfire. Unless and until I have disenchantment with the first bite, I can’t see where to go with that.

So there is no such thing as “giving up”, though there are moments of greater and lesser paying attention to the struggle.>>