The pain in my back started when I was pregnant with my youngest son. The stabbing feeling in the middle of my lower back was so debilitating that I literally had to crawl where I needed to go (this was in my house, of course). From then on, the pain has been intermittent. A few months ago, though, the pain started to get worse.
Also over the last few years, since my family doctor had moved away, I had seen three doctors about my back pain. Each one of them would take one look at me, assume I was out of shape, and decide that what I was experiencing was muscle strain. They would throw a prescription of muscle relaxers and anti-inflammatories at me and send me on my way. I would always give them the benefit of a doubt. They were doctors, after all, and what did I know? But the pills never worked. Granted I'm not in the best shape but in my defense, it's hard to rev up your exercise routine (and I do exercise several times a week) when your experiencing such horrid back pain.
I found out last year that my family doctor moved back and reopened his practice. So when my back started acting up again a few months ago, I went to him. What did he say? Muscle strain. He wrote me a prescription for -- you guessed it -- muscle relaxers and anti-inflammatories. He could tell I was frustrated and I told him why. I knew there was more going on than muscle strain but I couldn't convince him, or apparently anyone else, of that. He said we'd wait a year and if the pain wasn't gone, then we'd take steps to check it out further. I knew I wouldn't be able to wait another year.
That was in May. Since then, I have been in constant pain and it just keeps getting worse. I held off going to the doctor as long as I could because I was so scared that he would simply say it was muscle strain again. But there was something about this time that was different. Maybe it was the rigid way I moved. Maybe it was the look of "Please help me!" on my face. The minute I told him it was even a struggle to tuck my kids into bed at night, did he finally say what I'd been hoping for all along. "Let's get a scan and see what's going on."
It was such a relief to finally have the sort of help I've been needing. I went yesterday for an MRI and the results should be back in the next few days. I admit I'm nervous. I'm terrified that I'll have to have some kind of surgery. I'm terrified of spending the rest of my life with this debilitating back pain. Most of all, I'm terrified that I might end up in a wheelchair. I realize that's the worst case scenario, but it is on my mind.
What saddens me the most, though, is the thought of my young children helping to take care of me. I was sent to live with my grandparents at a young age specifically for the purpose of helping take care of my handicapped grandmother. It was a big burden for such a young kid. I had a flashback of this when I asked my young son to pick things up off the floor for me. I never want to place that kind of burden on them. And today, there was a commercial for something that said "Back Pain Relief". My 5 year-old got very excited and said, "Look Momma! That will help your back pain!" I gave him big hugs for wanting to help me and when he wasn't looking, I cried because it has affected them more than I thought it had.
Part of me can't help but wonder if my pain would've gotten this bad if someone had really listened to me the first time.
I'll update when I get the results in.
Until then, peace, love, and (pain free) hugs,
Pamela
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