It’s an odd feeling when everyone thinks you’re broken, especially if you’re partially known for being the least breakable.

“Obsidian! I heard you’re seriously injuried! OMG! Is there anything I can do? Can I bring you soup?”

It’s such a normal offering for wellness, soup. More attitudinal or associative I guess since on its own it doesn’t seem particularly useful for injuries. There’s a chance it’s residual– maybe the association is “healing potion,” the kind shamans used to rub on the injuries of their tribesmen like a lotion or salve.  And then Marco Polo walked through and, misunderstanding, drank the stuff, and that’s that story of minestrone for colds. But backs?

<Bing bong >

“Yes?”

“Hey Obsidian, it’s me.”

“Sure, hey, what are you doing here?”

“I heard about your injury. SOUP!”

 
And just like that my back was healed in full (belly).

(OK it was mac and cheese and I reheated it from months ago.)

I do have two soup offers, some grocery offers… and then the occasional late-comer to the situation offering panic and dismay:

“I noticed you weren’t around lately and I thought you were on vacation, but I was just told me you’re bed-ridden! Broken! What on earth! What’s happened? Oh my gosh!! It must be really serious!

Nah, not really.

The MRI results are positive, but there was a surprise…

Of the 5 disks (the spaces between the vertebrae of the lower lumbar spine), this report was supposed to list all as normal except for one, the one causing excruciating, radiating, appetite-and-mobility-ruining pain. But as you can see, it lists two of that variety: L4-5 and L5-S1.

So finally an explanation for the severity of the last twelve days: I have two extruded lumbar discs at once. Double the pain, but I’ve been told this does not necessarily double the recovery time.

One is much worse than the other.

Every disc is supposed to appear white, and darker or fully black discs are damaged, usually drier and weaker. As you can see, both the L4-5 and L5-S1 (the lower of the two annotated discs) are pretty dark. The extrusion of the L5-S1 is very clear, pushing deep outside of the disc edge and out into the nerve roots connected to the spine. As the diagnostic report text mentioned, the pain from my injury is mostly from that disc pressing into and actually displacing the S1 nerve root. That’s why the pain runs down my leg.

This is a self-healing injury and I will be completely recovered if I do things smartly. The nuclear material from the disc will dissolve away off of the nerve root, the inflammation will then diminish and uncompress, and the disc wall will scar over and I’ll be back to kicking ass.

PT will help this all happen a bit faster, so I have 30 sessions prescribed. First session is Monday evening, not soon enough. Dying for activity besides walking.

I feel disgust at the imperfection of the human form. Look at how completely ridiculous the structure of the lower back is. There’s a load-bearing structure that at its center of gravity has a curve in it.  The form, when being used normally, causes disc lesions, nerve impingement and crush fractures. The most common way to bust a disc? Pick something off the ground and as you come up with it, turn to one side or another. Wammo.

"About 80 percent of the adults in the U.S. have been bothered by back pain at some point. The Consumer Reports Health Ratings Center recently surveyed more than 14,000 subscribers who experienced lower-back pain in the past year but never had back surgery. More than half said the pain severely limited their daily routine for a week or longer, and 88 percent said it recurred throughout the year." 
(Source) 

I know, “lift with your legs, not your back.”

I squat 315lbs X 20, 405lbs X 6-8, and I deadlift 500lb X 4-6 X 3. Weekly. The problem isn’t me, I know how to move heavy things around. The problem is the design.

But don’t worry. I’m going to fix this. I’m going to build up an invincible shield of mass and strength around my core over the next few months, so even if I get dropped back-first directly on a rusty dock railing I’ll bounce off… especially if it isn’t covered in giant spikess. But come spring I should be spike-proof, too. No fucking around. This has really frustrated me and has gotten in the way of some important things, so never again.