Tuesday, September 22, 2009


Who knows, maybe last week I wasn’t feeling too great because my back was about to give in to a bout of acute pain. Deep down I believe that The Body Knows Best and even though only on Sunday I was bending over backwards doing a camel, yesterday morning I was struck down by such a stabbing that I have been unable to walk straight ever since.

This is no news. I have a number of prolapsed discs and sometimes they make themselves felt, especially when I think that, hey, I am not doing too badly, am I, when was the last time that I couldn’t move, I cannot even remember. Yes, every time I think that maybe the little blighters have fixed themselves, they return with a vengeance, making me drop whatever I am doing in favour of a number of days spent crawling from door-frame to door-frame. But I am telling you, I am doing better than years ago. At some point I couldn’t even grab the door-frame; I was trying to reach the bathroom by crawling like an insect, I kid you not.

It’s funny how people always sigh when you speak of back pain. Oh yes, I get it too. Oh no, I am thinking, like this you do not. How can I tell? Only once have I met a person in whose eyes I recognised that well-known sudden mix of terror and helplessness at the mere mention of acute back pain. All the others are just normal people that try to empathise with you but who do not really know what it is like to need assistance for a wee or to brush one’s teeth or to get a glass of water. When I am like this, I cannot even turn in bed without yelping like a little dog.

When it started I forced myself through normal life but it is evident, judging by the nail-like pain that is puncturing my lower spine, that I should have just surrendered to the nerves and huddled on my side in bed, waiting for it to subside. This morning has been a disaster; I do not even feel hungry, which, really, tells a story of its own. I find it amazing that only two days ago I was stretching down with my legs plank-straight, my nose almost on my knees and my palms very nearly flat on the floor and right now my hands hang like skinny marionettes by my shins, as if a crane were holding me back. It’s a kind of an unpredictable black magic really.
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