“Agghhh” said my wife, “I can’t stand up, help, I’m in pain!”
In attempting to pick up a handbag from over the back of a chair, she’d “pulled something” in her lower back. All right, so the handbag was of the small suit-case size variety, but the combination of bending at the waist, twisting to the left and then grasping and lifting with the right hand seemed to have caused damage, and way above what might have been expected from a movement so common place.
Something similar had happened five or so years before, and a physiotherapist had taught her a series of exercises to use in the event of back strain or pain. To the untutored eye, it looks like she is rolling around on the floor on her back, but close inspection and perusal of the appropriate exercise manuals show clearly that what she is in fact doing is, well, er, rolling around on the floor on her back: but it normally does the trick. Sadly not this time.
We have, here at home, a huge pharmaceutical cupboard full of drugs that all say “only to be taken under medical supervision” (why? we can read the instructions can’t we, if we want to) and “do NOT drink alcohol while taking this drug” (I always try to wait at least five minutes). So if the floor-rolling doesn’t work, or if there is continuing pain, she reaches for a drug which is a mixture of anti-inflammatory and pain-killer, but with the unfortunate side of effect of eating the stomach lining.
Later that same day, we cancelled dinner and the cinema and booked an appointment with an orthopedic specialist, as home treatments were not being effective. Lebanon has one of the highest ratios of doctors per unit of population and all available for consultations, so no Specialist by referral only, thanks very much. The following morning a slipped disk was diagnosed.
Disks don’t actually slip, we discovered, they suffer a tear in the lining. The inner squidgy stuff, which does the shock absorbing, then leaks out. It’s the effect of the leakage on emerging nerves or the closer proximity of the disk’s surrounding vertebrae that causes the pain. And this is what everyone, inaccurately, terms a slipped disk. Treatment is a combination of ancient (hot water bottles while resting with knees bent) and modern (the above mentioned drugs).
What is horrifying about such an event is the number of things taken for granted that suddenly become difficult, making a cup of coffee, bending to smell a flower, climbing into bed and never mind driving, just getting in and out of a car.
There’s all sorts of bits of advice I could give, (avoid pot-holes when driving a sufferer, being the most obvious), but no-one is going to take them. So, I’ll just end by hoping that putting this down on electronic paper has not jinxed her recovery as, fortunately, two months down the track, the light at the end of the tunnel appears to have been switched back on – she can stand without pain again. Next week she may even pick up a handbag, but not, let’s hope, from over the back of a chair!
In attempting to pick up a handbag from over the back of a chair, she’d “pulled something” in her lower back. All right, so the handbag was of the small suit-case size variety, but the combination of bending at the waist, twisting to the left and then grasping and lifting with the right hand seemed to have caused damage, and way above what might have been expected from a movement so common place.
Something similar had happened five or so years before, and a physiotherapist had taught her a series of exercises to use in the event of back strain or pain. To the untutored eye, it looks like she is rolling around on the floor on her back, but close inspection and perusal of the appropriate exercise manuals show clearly that what she is in fact doing is, well, er, rolling around on the floor on her back: but it normally does the trick. Sadly not this time.
We have, here at home, a huge pharmaceutical cupboard full of drugs that all say “only to be taken under medical supervision” (why? we can read the instructions can’t we, if we want to) and “do NOT drink alcohol while taking this drug” (I always try to wait at least five minutes). So if the floor-rolling doesn’t work, or if there is continuing pain, she reaches for a drug which is a mixture of anti-inflammatory and pain-killer, but with the unfortunate side of effect of eating the stomach lining.
Later that same day, we cancelled dinner and the cinema and booked an appointment with an orthopedic specialist, as home treatments were not being effective. Lebanon has one of the highest ratios of doctors per unit of population and all available for consultations, so no Specialist by referral only, thanks very much. The following morning a slipped disk was diagnosed.
Disks don’t actually slip, we discovered, they suffer a tear in the lining. The inner squidgy stuff, which does the shock absorbing, then leaks out. It’s the effect of the leakage on emerging nerves or the closer proximity of the disk’s surrounding vertebrae that causes the pain. And this is what everyone, inaccurately, terms a slipped disk. Treatment is a combination of ancient (hot water bottles while resting with knees bent) and modern (the above mentioned drugs).
What is horrifying about such an event is the number of things taken for granted that suddenly become difficult, making a cup of coffee, bending to smell a flower, climbing into bed and never mind driving, just getting in and out of a car.
There’s all sorts of bits of advice I could give, (avoid pot-holes when driving a sufferer, being the most obvious), but no-one is going to take them. So, I’ll just end by hoping that putting this down on electronic paper has not jinxed her recovery as, fortunately, two months down the track, the light at the end of the tunnel appears to have been switched back on – she can stand without pain again. Next week she may even pick up a handbag, but not, let’s hope, from over the back of a chair!
Very glad to hear that all is on the mend. xx
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