Pain

Exactly one year and one day ago I hurt my back. I remember the day because it was my friend Kali's birthday and the same day I'd decided to do a gardening blitz in my backyard. I remember thinking that evening, "Wow, my back really hurts." And then I remember the next morning, when I couldn't get out of bed because I was incapable of moving my torso.

I spent weeks in various levels of pain. For the first week or two, sitting was pretty unbearable. This made work difficult, seeing as how my job is pretty much sitting in front of my computer for eight straight hours. I'd work standing up, kneeling, and even one day (the co-workers had fun with this one), laying on the floor of my office with the laptop. By the time our big April event arrived I was still suffering but it had subsided somewhat, enough for me to make it through the week in pretty good shape. There was lots of standing and running around so that helped.

The day after GMA Music Week was over, I was running around packing up for my trip to Italy to see my sister. Right before I left for the airport, I bounced down to the floor quickly to pick up something, and as I bounced back up, BAM. Pain, every bit as bad as it had been when I first hurt myself. Ben was gone and I wasn't about to risk missing my trip so I grabbed a bottle of Advil and away I went. My flight to Italy was quite possibly the most miserable and painful ten hours of my life. I was in the middle of the middle section, so if I wanted to get up I had to annoy two people in either direction, but as I said earlier sitting was by far the most painful position. Leaning back was really bad, so I sat, straight up in my seat or with my head leaning against the seat in front of me, for the entire time. I was taking Advil four at a time, which just barely took the edge off.

My excitement for being in Italy with my sister was the only real motivator for getting through that trip. My sister and I debated debated trying to find some sort of walk-in clinic for me to go to, but I knew that the best they could probably do was give me some low-grade painkillers. We decided to tough it out instead. Every day was excruciating, and walking around on marble everywhere didn't help - but my mentality was basically, "I came all this way d@%$ it and I'm going to see and do everything and ignore the pain." On the way home, mercifully, we had aisle seats so I could (and did) get up and walk around a lot. Or as much as I could without getting a stern glance from our Lufthansa flight attendants. Those German ladies are not kidding around.

Back home I finally caved and tried to get an appointment with a general physician.

Doctor's Office: "She could get you in... let's see... sometime in June?"
Me: "Umm... okay, but I am in a lot of pain right NOW. "
Doctor's Office: "Well, you could take some aspirin or if it is really bad go to the ER."
Me: "Great, thanks for NOTHING."*

*I didn't actually say that last part. But I felt it! I think at that point I remember breaking down and crying. General sicknesses and a few childhood broken bones and busted chins aside, I've been a generally healthy person for most of my life. To be so painfully incapacitated was obnoxious and frustrating and... it hurt! I don't consider myself too big a "wuss" when it comes to pain - or if I am, I at least try to hide it. I don't like being unwell so I usually just try to push through it, take some medicine, and sleep it off. None of those things, unfortunately, were working!

I feel like God finally conked me on my stubborn head and led me to seek help in the most unlikely of places - for me, anyway. I've never been much one for "alternative medicine." Before a bunch of you homeopathic-loving people out there jump down my throat, just hear me out! It's not that I really take issue with many of the ideas and remedies, so much as I do with some of the pushy, fanatical people I've encountered hawking them. All this is for another post, I suppose. Back to the point. I broke down and went to a chiropractor.

You want to know the weirdest part? Way back on the day I hurt my back, we went out with our friends Dan & Kali for dinner - it was her birthday, if you'll remember from the beginning of my story. Half jokingly, she put her name in the little box on the counter to "win" a free massage and chiropractic evaluation. So a couple months later, they finally contacted her, and invited her to bring a friend along. Mercifully, she picked me! We were both skeptical as could be, so it was comforting to be there together. It was a little weird and I didn't then (and sometimes still don't) know exactly what or how or even IF it was working, but I didn't really care. Because SOMEONE was doing SOMETHING to help me, and that was enough.

Turns out the culprit was a little bit of scoliosis, which I'd known from childhood that I had. Your spine is supposed to curve in the correct places from front to back - which mine does - but it is not supposed to curve from side to side - which mine does. Over time this had been weakening certain parts of my back. Muscles on one side over-compensated to make up for the other, and whatever I'd tweaked or twinged or pulled when I was gardening that fateful April day had been the "final straw" of sorts, turning something I'd never really noticed into something I felt, and strongly. My month of trying to "get over it" hadn't helped either, as my self-corrections (like sitting or bending differently) to avoid pain had actually been enabling the wrong muscles to remain weak and helpless.

Since then I've been going to the chiropractor about once every two weeks. (I'm also supposed to do this wide array of stretches every day, which I don't complete as dutifully as I should.) Generally the pain has subsided. Now it's mostly a nagging discomfort which flares up into something worse if I sit funny for too long or stand on a hard floor all day. I still have hopes that it will go away completely; that I won't just feel better but BE better. It's just one thing in a long list of stuff I need to do to improve my physical health. More and more I get this feeling - don't laugh, people over 30 reading this - like, "I'm not a kid anymore." I can't just do anything, eat anything, sleep anytime... all that stuff has officially caught up with me. (Cue ominous music.)

So what's the point of all this? Honestly, I'm not sure. I wish I had some big spiritual revelation to share at this point, but I haven't been very faithful to trust God with my pain. I didn't put up a big fuss about it, but then again I rarely put up a big fuss about anything (except this and this and don't get me started on this). There was no railing at God in the storm, screaming "why me" to the heavens and beating my chest. I just kind of dealt with it. But maybe there's my first lesson - I didn't blame God for my pain or question His dealing it, but I didn't exactly ask Him for help either. I can't remember really praying earnestly for healing, which doesn't bother me nearly as much as that I didn't really pray for patience or peace or relief or any of that either.

Looking back on the year it's as if this whole issue sort of rode out the time under the radar. It was there, all along, nagging at me and bothering me and affecting my life, but I didn't take that to God? Ugh. It makes me mad at myself just thinking about it! Why do we DO that? Do I subconsciously think that I'm doing God a favor by not "bothering him" with my problems? Or that God will be impressed with how well I can handle it on my own? I don't want to keep parts of my life apart from God. Which is a silly concept anyway, as he already knows all about it.

I've spent so much time pretending I can walk just fine, grimacing with each anguished step but too proud and too stubborn to do otherwise. Maybe it's time I stopped all that nonsense. Maybe it's time I come crawling to Him on my hands and knees, ready to be scooped up and carried, desperate for the love and grace that gives purpose to pain.