3 weeks ago, I hurt my back volunteering at a dog adoption event. Old shoes. 8 hours standing on concrete in cold weather. Lifting things far too heavy for me to lift alone and lifting them incorrectly. Anti-cancer meds for 5 years that impact my joints, muscles, and bones. A strenuous workout 2 days before. A big grocery shop and carry that evening. It was a recipe for a back emergency, and I’d served it up to myself like a master of disaster.
Healing isn’t linear; it’s a continuum. The last few weeks have been a bumpy road. I went to my oncology appointment on Tuesday. (I go every 3 months to see my team, get bloodwork, and get a shot and infusion.) I was in the waiting room for 30 minutes and wondered why I hadn’t been called for my bloodwork yet. They forgot to tell me I needed to go to a different floor. I was worried all my appointments would now be delayed so I grabbed my bag in a hurry and threw my back into a spasm. I yelped.
Then of course my blood pressure and one of my blood levels that’s a marker for muscle damage was slightly elevated (weeks of back pain will do that.) With great empathy and understanding, my doctor gave me muscle relaxers. She said to come back in a month to recheck that blood level. “I’m not at all worried, Christa,” she said. “But I know you and I know you’ll worry so we’ll recheck for your peace of mind.”
When I got home, I sunk into a warm bath and cried because my back hurt; I hate the side effects of my meds; I miss my dog, so much of life feels unfair and out of my control. Sometimes it all feels like a house of cards; one shakes and the tower falters. So, I let it crash around me, shattering.
I pulled myself together and got out of the tub. A few minutes later the full extent of the spasm really kicked in. The pain surged to a frightening level-10/10– like my body was breaking. I gobbled the muscle relaxer and climbed into bed, praying it would kick in. I tried to empty my mind and count my blessings. Then I just let the thoughts come without trying to direct them. I had survived so many dark nights before. Surely this couldn’t be as bad as the worst of them. I woke up 10 hours later. Stiff but the terrifying knot in my back was gone, replaced with a dull ache.
For the next few days, the pain kept moving around my back. My body was trying to re-center herself. Trying to protect me while also asking my mind for help. I was so afraid I’d never feel better. Now would I always be a person with a bad back?
I called my friend, Alex, which I often do when I don’t know what to do. As always, she talked me down off the ledge. It turns out I don’t have a bad back, I had a battered back. Alex assured me all my fears were normal. Get yourself a friend like Alex. Learning to move in a different and ever-changing body requires effort. With this injury, my mind and body were doing the necessary work. When we got off the phone, my back felt better. The next day it felt even better. I turned the corner thanks to muscle relaxers, heat therapy, massage, a sauna visit, stretching, time, and Alex. Healing isn’t a solo sport; it’s as much about community as it is about medicine.
Our back is the foundation of our health and ability to move, literally and figuratively. When the foundation falters, everything built on top of it shifts. We have to maintain the foundation. Castles in the air don’t rise. They need a stable base, and so do we. Rest, heat, stretch, repeat until the healing’s complete.
My back showed me I’ve been holding myself back on a number of fronts, and I’m done doing that. As my therapist, Brian, has told me many times, our injuries often come to hone us, not harm us. It’s worth the time and energy to do this fundamental work. We are worthy of our own time, attention, and care.
Christa Avampato 