Thersites Writes

Ah, pain - isn't it wonderful? The burning sharp stab of 'yaaarrrgh!!!' that kicks in when your lower back goes.... The throbbing pains that go down past the Gluteus Maximus through the hip and into the lower leg... The horrible feeling of not being able to walk or even stand up straight... The joys of having to stay in bed for days on end with nothing but Radio 4 for company... The endless drowsy tedium and the strange dreams that come from heavy painkillers...

It was my fault, of course. I was doing some light stretching exercises and suddenly felt a bit of pain. Too many years spent in front of a computer had weakened my lumbar region, leaving it atrophied and inflexible - that much I knew already. But a few minutes later the pain really kicked in and I could barely walk. I needed to get back to my halls of residence that day and I was desperate to get better, so I staggered on. Instead I nearly got stuck in the bath and haven't been able to have one for four days. The situation stinks on many levels.

But the worst bit of it is the loss of freedom. It seems unnatural to not be able to just walk to the toilet, go downstairs, pick something up, bend over or walk out of the door. But all that gets taken away when the pain kicks in: suddenly, ‘walking’ (or rather, ‘limping’) becomes a long, painful and humiliating experience.

As a result, I've worked my way around some of these problems and have had to learn new ways of moving. I need to lean up against the wall like a toddler just to hobble from bed to bog. Even sitting up is difficult and I have to break through the pain barrier every time I need to reach over for a cup of tea. And it's all down to one small area to the bottom left of my back - which now seems to be the most important part of my anatomy. Without it, I can't even cough properly or pull my trousers up without help.

On the other hand, the problem seems muscular in nature, meaning my spine's OK, and the injury is getting progressively better. Making myself stand up and walk when needed has been a helpful kind of ad hoc physiotherapy too, even if it's meant I've had to rely on my upper body, and anything I can prop myself up on, just to stay upright. My stomach muscles have taken some of the strain too; feeling worn but not injured. The upside, then, will be that I get stronger arms and abs from this. I'll also be trying to strengthen my lower back, albeit gently, so it doesn't happen again.

But I can't help but wonder what the lives of people with permanent back pain is like. How do they deal with not being able to move, eat, get dressed and perform any number of other normal tasks? The worst part of what happened to me was not the pain, but the lack of autonomy. Being able to run your own life is a blessing, and that's hard to do when you can't even turn over in bed without wincing.