In case you have not figured it out yet, there is a rhythm to my life that involves experiencing some type of physical trauma and then trying to figure out what damage was caused, how and why it was caused, and then if and how it can be healed.
In December I finished an intensive deep water aerobics class (it was actually two classes back to back) and the next day I experienced so much back pain that only years of experience allowed me to get out of the bed. Then I discovered that my right leg collapsed when I walked. This situation required prayer, meditation, reflection, decision making, and finally action.
It had already been established that my hip flexors are weak and I had started a program to strengthen them. The pain in my back was my body going “Whoa! This is not going to work for you.” A little tiny voice inside my head kept saying “surgeon.” I refused to listen to it. Instead I went to see a chiropractor and my pain management physician.
The chiropractor took x-rays and said “scoliosis.” I was reminded that “denial is not a river in Egypt” and I can be surprised by a diagnosis that I was given as a teen for a condition with which I was born. I tend to talk about my leg length discrepancy rather the spinal curvature responsible for it. When I went to see my pain management physician, who is also a neurologist, I asked him if he wanted to see the x-rays. His response was, “I’ve seen your MRIs.” He had a huge grin on his face that read “Aquilla you are an idiot.” He likes my middle name. He does not accept new patients without seeing their MRI.
The chiropractor prescribed electrical stimulation and manipulations over six weeks. During the second week he released a trigger point in my left quadratus lumborum (QL) creating a feeling of relief that I will never forget. My pain management physician was initially at a loss because there was no place for an epidural steroid injection. Then he decided to supply a powerful NSAID and a powerful muscle relaxant. This was a replacement for other medications rather than additional meds. My pharmacist earned gratitude by reminding me to discontinue the meds that were being replaced.
I expect to get kicked out of PT on Wednesday. On Monday the therapist pointed out that I was working hard enough to get aerobic and that I was the only PT patient working at that level. I need a trainer. I cannot afford a trainer. Friday will be my last day with the chiro. On Monday I will rejoin one of my deep water classes, the less intense of the two. My attempt to get stronger will continue. This is definitely my battle.
Through this experience, I learned and relearned a lot of things about this body in which I live. Now, I will try to apply them to my life and to my exercise routine. Even though two members of my healthcare team told me that I no longer need a lift for my shorter leg, I do. I need less height in the lift but I definitely need a lift. I also need exercise to keep my metabolic system performing within normal parameters. Yes, keeping diabetes at bay and my blood pressure out of stroke range is most definitely my battle.
I have been keeping up with my seminar and have even started planning a new one. Every other project is behind schedule. WAIT A MINUTE! I am retired. Except for the seminar that I am facilitating, I have no schedule. I am still disorganized from the move. Three months on crutches did not enhance my downsizing and decluttering capacity. My major goal for today is to get the pineapple off the kitchen wall.
I may need to put a note on the still new juicer to remind myself how far it can fling bits of fruit and vegetables when I don’t wait for it to stop spinning. That juicer and I are going to become great friends. Consuming more vegetables and fruits is also an important part of my battle. The juicer is an important weapon in the battle.
Every other project that I have discussed is on an “I’ll get to it when I get to it” list.