Sunday, February 27, 2011

Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes, Knees and Toes (and a Lower Back!)

I talked about my back injury in my other post, but I figured, what the heck, it's my blog, so why not talk about it a little more? No one but me can say "I can't." "You can't" means nothing.

So, I hurt my back. Lower back, to be exact. I am still thanking God that it wasn't worse than it was, and I am still being really careful about it, but my PT keeps telling me not to baby it. Babying it is only going to continue to problem, he says.

Whatever, it's not HIS back. He's not the one who was scared the pain was permament. He's not the one who was scared she wouldn't be able to hold her nieces and nephews, and God forbid, her own kids one day. Nope, that was me. So, yeah, sometimes I might baby it a little. So bite me.

I'm not even sure exactly what happened to my back; how I hurt it, when, etc. Over Christmas break I noticed it was starting to bug me a little bit. I chalked it up to too much munching on bad things and too much watching of bad movies. Basically I completely ignored it.

I went back to school and continued to notice it every once in a while. Maybe when I was standing for too long, or sitting at a weird angle. It didn't feel like anything major though, so I thought, it must be the weather/stress/shoes/outfit/anything else I could think of. NOT. A. BIG. DEAL. I told myself. So I took a day off here and there from CF and couldn't understand why it wasn't just going away.

I got a massage, and feel SO much better when I walked out of there. "Fixed it," I thought. But I woke up the next morning with a MAJOR neckache. Like, momumental. Crap. Now what? So I talked to everyone about it. And everyone had a different idea. "It's not a big deal." "OMG, you're going to die." Pretty much everyone thought something different, but everyone agreed that I needed to stop working out. Which was CRAZY, right?

So I went to a Chiropractor. Which is when it got bad. I'm sure there are awesome Chiropractors out there, but mine was not one. He didn't listen at all when I said that when I worked out I got a small square of numbness on my back. He didn't want to hear about moves that made it worse. Nothing I said was considered. He took x-rays and went about his routine. Crack, Crack, CRACK. Oh boy.

I went three times to the Chiro, because each time I kept expecting it to work. The last time I went, the numbness became a constant fixture on my back, and started creeping down my butt into my thigh. I was constantly aware of the numbness and tingling, and while I wouldn't describe it as painful, it was not comfortable. I ignored it a little more, and went to CF. I knew I couldn't do a major workout, but I figured some work with a pvc pipe couldn't hurt, right?

I made it through the workout one Sunday, went home and got in the shower. That's when the blinding spasm began. I got out, went downstairs and told my husband that I needed to go to hospital. So off we went.

Going to the hospital wasn't hugely helpful, but I did get some muscle relaxers, which helped a lot. I started PT two days later, which has been amazing. It's been slow (I'm still not 100%), but I'm starting to get back to CF and feeling a lot better about that.

The worst part (other than the pain) was feeling like a failure again. I have been in battle with myself for 28 years, and I finally felt like I found the winning side. Then I went and messed it up. I felt like it was my fault, and I was the stupid one, I was the failure, AGAIN, and I that had no one to blame but myself. I started comparing myself to other woman, which has always been a big problem for me. Only this time, I wasn't comparing myself with the skinny girls, I was comparing myself with the super fit superwomen at my CF. Why couldn't I be like them? WHY?

Anyways, I'm learning, SLOWLY, that I can't be like them because I HAVE to be myself. I know it's cheesy. I know it's a mantra I've said before. But, here I am, on the verge of 30, finally making a effort to accept myself for who I am. Finally letting go of what people want me to be and who I want to be like. I want to be like myself: bad back, dislocated shoulders, crunchy knees, awesome hair, pretty eyes and silly laugh.




All of it is me.

I am the only one saying "I can't." "You can't" means nothing.

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