Relative Something

I have done it again. For whatever reason I have yet to fully grasp, I have grown complacent about adhering to my prescribed daily regiment of walking 1/2 hour per day, and doing repetitions of a few simple strengthening exercises. Along with that neglect, I have heaped on a variety of risky behaviors like lifting things that are heavier than I should be lifting, raking and tilling muddy clay, or, as I discovered yesterday, bending over to entice one of the cats with fresh catnip.

I have degenerative disc disease. In the morning at work yesterday, I noticed a twinge that alerted me to be cognizant of my condition. I took note, but only superficially. As in, I will do something about this later. It didn’t take long to really get my attention, and cause me to change my behavior, after the phone in my pants pocket began to ring, and I tried to quickly get up to leave the area and answer the call. That focus on quickly getting to another room overlooked the part about getting up out of the chair first, and my body abruptly nabbed my attention with a searing pain in my lower back that caused an immediate abort, and sat me right back down in that chair.

I got the message, or so I thought. I took some ibuprofen, and did a few bendy-stretchies after lying on the carpet in the boss’s office for a time. When I got home at the end of the work-day, I took a second dose of ibuprofen and laid on the floor to rest. After a while, I felt a significant reduction of pain, and was able to do a few of my exercises. I figured I could renew my walking routine before the day’s end.

With the pain now subsided, I absent-mindedly began moving around the house. (How quickly do I forget?) I was showing Cyndie how the cats appeared to have only minor interest in the fresh catnip I brought home from work, and leaned forward, dangling it for Pequenita…

BAM!

I think a disc blew out.

I know an expletive flew out.

That is the weirdest pain. It is like getting punched in the kidney, but not really. There is no external sensation of the blow landing. It is what it must feel like to have your innards punched. Whatever that nerve is, running along those discs, it sure doesn’t like being pressed. The muscles of my whole body seem to recoil. They want to all give out, and drop me to the floor, except, the nerve doesn’t like that either, so then the muscles have to flex. Suddenly I find myself locked in a precarious position where I can’t go up, and I can’t go down.

It’s comical, really. Unless you are the spouse standing right there, in full alarm mode, trying to figure out how to help. That part isn’t so funny.

In truth, I have learned that the body tends to over-react, in attempt to protect me from doing something that might lead to pain. At the first hint of trouble, it tenses up, pulling me back from doing anything brash. I end up walking like a little old man, taking little baby steps.

I’m grateful for that protection, actually. I’ve explained what happens when I get too nonchalant. It’s tricky, but somewhere in there, I would like to find the happy medium.

By the end of the evening, I was able to get myself walking again, albeit gingerly.

I am back to practicing being mindful of my actions, and have renewed motivation to resume the exercise routine I have been neglecting. Let’s hope.