My back muscles gave out this week. It always surprises me how this affects everything (which shouldn’t really because obviously all other limbs hang off the back, so when your back is agony, so is lifting a fork or taking a step). If you’ve never suffered with a bad back, you probably don’t fully appreciate what I’m saying (and everyone who has had a bad back will be nodding along in sympathy!)

It’s very annoying, and very bad timing. I was planting sunflower seeds, and I didn’t feel anything aching, so I guess I wasn’t being particularly protective of my back (which is an on-going weakness). I stood up and ‘click’ something snapped. (Well, it didn’t snap, but it felt like it!) I was at the far side of the field, without a phone, and I wondered how I would get back to the house. Mad Meg was not helpful, rushing round with a log and trying to entice me to throw sticks for her. Nor were the cats, who saw me walking (hobbling) slowly and came to enquire whether I would like to stroke them, rubbing against my legs and jumping on my feet. I made it back to the house and told Husband he would have to sort the geese and cook dinner.

The timing was terrible—the day before Husband left for Egypt on a work trip. He did offer to stay at home, but his trip looked fun, and I knew I could manage, so I told him to go. I took ibuprofen (marvellous drug) and rested, hoping and praying that it would be better in the morning. It wasn’t. Which meant I had to cancel tea with my daughter-in-law, which has been a treat in the diary I have been looking forward to. Illness is rarely convenient, life is often disappointing.

I am currently managing, whilst being in pain most of the time. I know it will pass, it’s only muscles/ligaments I think, because if I rest and take Nurofen it starts to improve, and when I move (the animals and me still have to eat) then it stiffens up again. I am existing with life at a new level. If I drop something I look at it, lying unhelpfully on the floor, knowing it will stay there for a week. (It’s a little like being 9 months pregnant, when so much of life is beyond reach.) If I put on clothes inside out, they stay that way because it’s too much effort to change them. Drying after a shower takes on a whole new logistical procedure. I can manage slippers and wellies, shoes are beyond me. I found a nice fat stick in the garden, and now use it to walk to feed the animals. I hobble slowly, like an old woman. Meg bounces along next to me. I can’t take her for a walk, but she seems happy enough just following me around, and she sleeps in my room when Husband is away, so she has become my (rather smelly) shadow. Some furniture (the comfortable kind) is no longer possible—I use the upright chairs to avoid getting stuck.

The thing is, when life goes wrong (and in my experience it often does) then we have to cope with bitter disappointment, and then get on with solving the new problem. I appreciate my back in a whole new way, and I realise that in our modern world of pain killers and dishwashers (but only the top shelf—the bottom shelf is too low!) even a bad back is not so bad. I am very grateful this didn’t happen when I was in Edinburgh for my review, or when travelling. This week I can cope. One day, we will all be old, or ill, and have to adjust to a new way of doing things, perhaps wearing inside-out clothes or eating less well because it’s too difficult to cook. That is life. It has some difficult times, and we just have to get on with it. Perhaps illness is a way to practise, so that when we get to that stage in life we know to live in the moment, to focus on the good things, to not let the pain dominate.

I hope you are currently pain free. Thanks for reading.
Take care.
Love, Anne x