Baby Got Back Pain
And how she got rid of it.
ONE DAY ABOUT four years ago I noticed a pain in my back. Sometimes sharp, most times dull, it was pervasive and insistent, lodged deep as an internal organ. It must have crept in before I registered it, because once I did I couldn’t remember not having it. Back pain is like that: It becomes part of you, like the thickness around one’s jawline as one ages, or that thing you did that you regret. If you’ve had it, you know that some days it hurts when you move like that, and some days it hurts when you move, and some days it hurts. If you haven’t, you don’t know what I’m talking about. You don’t know how lucky you are.
My primary care doctor asked a few questions, rapped on my spine, made me touch my toes. She smiled sympathetically. “Here’s a physical therapist I like,” she said, scribbling on a pad. “Your insurance will pay for a few massages, or acupuncture if you’d rather. Or both. Or a chiropractor!”
What, no kitchen sink? I thought, suddenly pissy. No shaman? “But what’s wrong with me?” I demanded.
The doc sat down and took off her glasses. “I must see four, five patients like you a month. Nonspecific back pain. No injury. We don’t know what’s wrong with you. What you do is try this, then try that. And expect success. Because really—why expect failure?” I stared at her. “I’d start with physical therapy,” she offered, opening the door for me. “And let me know.”
I called the physical therapist that afternoon, wincing as I bent for the phone book, trying to expect success but wishing I had a slightly firmer grasp on why I should. Over the next few months that wish intensified, as I pulled on stretchy bands and perched on rubber balls, laboring to heed my spry physical therapist by strengthening my core. “But…the pain is on the right,” I pointed out. “This really doesn’t feel like a core issue.”
“It’s all a core issue!” he sang. “Have you tried yoga?”
One by one I ticked off the fixes; one by one they failed to fix me. It wasn’t all for naught—from the chiropractor I learned never to cross my legs while sitting, and that by the way I had scoliosis and should really see him for weekly adjustments. An acupuncturist cleared up a sinus thing like magic, while a massage therapist taught me that even the most severe back pain will temporarily dim against the screaming torture that is deep-tissue massage.
But countless Aleves, dozens of office chair positions, three lumbar support structures, and about 30,000 core-strengthening Kegels later, I had to concede that on the trial and error scorecard, error was winning. I was done messing around. Time for an orthopedist.
He slid me into an MRI tube and showed me the pictures. “I suppose this might be an injury,” he said vaguely, pointing to a place on the field of gray that looked ever-so-slightly grayer. “We-ell…I did fall on the ice a couple years ago…could that be it?” I ventured. “Must be,” he shrugged, virtually oozing medical certainty, and put me down for a cortisone shot. “Now, you never know with this stuff—might work days, could work years,” he said as the needle toured the interior of my flesh. What I got was two perfect weeks.
When the pain came back, I was standing in the kitchen with my friend George, a kindred sufferer from way back. I felt the familiar stab as I stooped to unload the dishwasher, and immediately he saw it on my face. “Your back again, isn’t it,” he said. I burst into tears.
Published: February 2011
Kathryn, I feel your (former) pain. Literally. Your article is my exact current state almost verbatim, except my “accident” involved a bar stool in my kitchen, several New Years Eves ago (don’t judge).
I’m the typical Type A you describe in your article. I have now added the stress of reducing the stress in my life to my list of things to do. I’m committed but am so tired of fighting/fearing pain that I would face the Space Needle and cluck like a chicken, if I thought it would help.
I have a typical Type A list of yoga, spa days, making time, blah blah blah. What I really need is some advice from a kindered stresser. Any chance you would mind sharing what you did to make it work?
Thank you for writing this article and sharing your experience. It was a fluke that someone left the magazine at my house. Your story couldn’t have been more timely.
I feel ya, Jill. My advice is to order Mind Over Back Pain by John Sarno and read it. If you’re like me you’ll get to the end of the book, scratch your head, and think you missed the “fix.” You won’t have. The fix is to simply believe that what you are suffering from is stress. No exercises, no meditations, no nothing…just wrap your head around the fact that your body is manifesting non-structural pain, then watch what happens. Weird, I know, but for me so magically successful I’m thinking of putting this Sarno in my will. Best of luck.
Kathryn,
Thank you so much as you have beautifully detailed in “Baby Got Back” the plethora of attempted (and often failed) treatments and diagnoses from a medical and so-called alternative perspective of an all too common condition. You article is to be commended for its comprehensive description as it covers (with humor) virtually the gamut of the universe of back pain.
For the past 14 years I have treated clients with similar stories. The causes of the pain are never the same as all people have unique histories and pain means little in terms of treatment. All “pain” means is that the body’s ability to compensate has been used up like a maxed out somatic credit card.
Virtually no where is it mentioned that the lack of mobility of tissues is a key to delivering treatment. Sometimes yes, it is in the most powerful muscle (the one between our ears! a la Sarno) and other times it may be elsewhere and/or a combination of numerous tissues, organs, and body systems. Never is it just one thing (at least I haven’t seen it yet!)
Feel free to contact my office at 425 774-1737 if you would like to schedule an appointment for an initial evaluation. I am located at the north shore of Lake Washington in Kenmore, just above the Burke Gilman Trail and Kenmore Air.
May I use your article as a major reference to give to my clients? Your experience distills at least 100 scholarly, medical and research articles into one humorous presentation about a serious issue.
Barry Craig, LMP #10710
I think there are chiropractors who want you to heal and chiropractors who want your money. I have been fortunate enough to receive help with my lower back pain from the latter of the two. If you want to feel better, I personally suggest visiting Dr. Krieder or Dr. Jelstrup in Bellevue, WA. People fly in from all over the world (mostly Norway and other Euro countries) to see them. My husband and I both had different back problems and both were fixed quickly. Physical therapy etc.
Could it really be as simple as “believing?” I was a skeptic until I read Kathryn Robinson’s column and subsequently Dr. Sarno’s book. No magic potions, no special exercises, stretches, or meditations. Just the incredible power of the mind. I was suffering pain in my hip joint and occasional sciatic flare ups. Did I have bone cancer; was I going to need hip replacement surgery; would I ever resume normal activity? Once I realized how tense my lower back had become and, more to the point, recognized that tension was of my own doing, those back muscles began to free up and the hip joint right along with them. I’m still in the early stages of healing, but I have begun introducing mild exercise back into my routine and couldn’t be happier.
When you’re in the corner and have got no cash to move out from that, you will need to receive the personal loans. Just because it should help you emphatically. I get secured loan every single year and feel good because of this.
Every body remembers that humen’s life is expensive, nevertheless we need money for various stuff and not every man earns enough money. Hence to get good personal loans or just secured loan would be good solution.