The MD: Tell me about the pain in your back.
Me: Well, I can stand up and lie on my back just fine.
The MD: Okay, good.
Me: But everything other than that feels like the end of the world.
The MD: (In the way a doctor would react to a 3 year-old with an “ouchie”) Oh, that’s not good at all.
A bit less than a year ago, I wrote a little review about getting older, specifically some unrelenting shoulder pain. Well, that was just the tip of iceberg compared to this one. (And all things considered, it hurts so much that it’s not really a laughing matter at this point). Doing nothing stupid, out of the ordinary, or what I’ve not done lots of time before, I managed to make myself bedridden by the simple act of bringing my groceries inside. The only significance of the problem-causing event was that it could be construed as if I had made an awkward motion and tore a muscle at the small of my back. (the ‘could-be-construed as’ part being the awkward motion, not the torn muscle).
An awkward motion… the red-headed step child of reasons for (relatively) serious injuries. Similar to last year’s much less serious pain, the type of thing that only happens to the rapidly aging and rapidly aged. Not to steal Adam’s joke completely, but I’ve expected much more from my back than going out in such a girly way. (for those that say, but you were born in November, wouldn’t that be the beginning of model year 1983? Not this guy; it’s becoming more and more obvious that I was old stock, made from parts whose lifespans were already one year short due to sitting on the lot for so long. Sure, my back has serviced me well so far, but with my life expectancy being somewhere around 77 bitter years, it’s awfully early for the frame to have gone bad (one of the axles is already shot).
But man, it hurts. I’m normally a big fan of the small of the back; it’s just so …. useful. But not now. It feel like it’s where North Korea did yesterday’s bomb testing. (how’s that for a needlessly topical joke). Oh it smarts real good.
The Human Back (Model Year 1982) receives one-and-a-half stars due to its not even lasting half of an expected lifetime before (relatively) serious failure. (No, I’m not being dramatic: being unable to go to work or even do anything other than lie down or stand up shows that the body part has failed, at least temporarily. If someone were unable to attain consciousness, the brain is considered to have failed.) The meager 1.5 stars come from the sort of trouble-free past years of use.