Baby's Got Back II

I am still lying around on the floor. And this episode is reminding me of too many things.

When I've told people in the past that I've got a bad back, I've said, "It was terrible in the beginning. But I finally got really great treatment and now I can manage it - if I'm careful, and make sure I keep up moderate exercise and massages." And that has been true.

But it's only now that I'm lying here that I am remembering just how terrible it was in the beginning. The pain. Immediately after the first injury, most of it was referred into my chest and I thought I was having a heart attack. It wasn't until two years later, when the other injuries had healed up, that it was finally diagnosed as primarily a back problem.

The months, and I mean months, on the floor. It hurt to breathe. A walk down the road to catch the bus to university, attend classes, sit and talk with people - that was all out of my reach.

The weight I gained. I had been a person who could eat a lot because she exercised a lot. Then I couldn't exercise at all. The weight crept on, about a kilo every two to three months. It turned me into a person I hardly recognised. My face grew large and round like someone had pumped it up with a bicycle pump. And I'm just not going to say anything about my arse.

The sense that life was going by. Just going by, while I lay around on the floor.

I had semi-forgotten all this. It's more than ten years ago now. But now I remember.

And I'm frightened. My back is not getting better as quickly as I hoped. I have been off work. My boss says they are so busy that I'm better off staying away on sick leave if I'm not up to a normal workload, which I'm not. The Big Dude is having to do more than he can really manage long-term. My mum has been helping, but she has to have an operation next week. My Little Dude can't figure out why mummy is always on the floor and can't play with him. I'm worried that my doctor is not taking this problem seriously enough.

A bad back. It sounds so generic, right? Everyone's got one.

But if you are normally the only able-bodied person in the house, and you are out of action for more than two weeks, that is not a problem - it's a crisis.

You know all those balls I normally keep in the air? That frantic juggling act I maintain? Those balls are starting to drop.

And now I am frightened that I am going back to the beginning.