One weekend when I was 20, my husband and I were working on the bicycles. I reached over my bike, grabbed the frame, and lifted it to turn it upside down. My lumbar region felt as though it had been blasted by lightning, and I spent the rest of the day flat on my stomach in bed.
That was the moment my back troubles began.
I can go years without having any back pain, and then one day I'll twist or bend funny and WHAM! My back screams at me again.
A couple weeks ago I walked into the bathroom at night to brush my teeth and felt a little twinge in the back of my waist. No big deal. But later that night I felt a few more twinges, so I decided it wasn't a bad idea to get the chiropractic gel-pack out of the freezer and lean against it while I sat in my spot on the loveseat and watched some streaming TV shows on Netflix. Just in case, really.
By morning, though, my back was in full-Psycho mode, and for the first time in the two and a half years at my job, I took a sick day. I spent the day alternating between icing my back and giving the gel-pack a chance to re-freeze. By the next morning, my back had improved to a steady band of lightning across my waist, so I headed off to work with my gel-pack and walked around the office like an old lady.
It's been a slow recovery, but every day has been an improvement over the previous one. Sunday I wore heels to church without any ill effects. (Yay! I hate flats! I feel frumpy when I wear them.) So this week it's heels again at work. Life is good.
But I have a new BFF (sorry, girlfriends!). It's my gel-pack. She and I still hang out together a few times a day. I don't have the courage yet to end that relationship.