By Valarie Schwartz
Hanging upside down and/or visualizing an opossum before going to sleep are the latest suggestions toward ending the back pain that has plagued me since April. If anyone is looking to get rid of one of those inversion gadgets, I’m interested in a second-hand model.
It’s starting to get me down, this pain in my gluteus maximus that hurts while sitting but not nearly as bad as when walking, as it travels varying degrees down my leg, or that becomes a deep burn while driving any distance over oh, say, five miles.
It’s a real pain (though my X-rays looked good), yet numerous trips to the acupuncturist and chiropractor have only temporarily relieved it; as have weeks without any treatment (including massage); as have the magnet jewelry I now wear on my wrist and ankle (it gets lots of compliments). Ice, heat, pain patches, decreased activity, increased exercise, a detoxification diet, giving up chocolate, eating lots of chocolate — everything provides some temporary relief but nothing makes it go away.
Does it help to know that I am not alone — that 5.4 million Americans spend some $90 billion a year in search of an end to their back pain? Is there comfort in knowing that at any given time 31 million of us are in pain? No, it does not much help. Misery may love company, but my preference remains the opposite — pain-free solitude and interactions.
The answer to my agony no doubt lies next to my keyboard in the form of a book given to me last week — Healing Back Pain: The Mind-Body Connection by John E. Sarno, M.D. A dear friend who suffered similarly last year gave it to me because she found relief after skimming through this book that basically will point out that the pain from which I (and so many others) suffer is due to mild oxygen deprivation stemming from fears and emotions — or perhaps the avoidance of dealing with same.
So, on this lovely Monday morning, as I look forward to what needs to be a productive week, the choice lies before me. Do I continue to suffer as I’ve done for almost five months (Note: I’m standing as I type this), or do I delve into my psyche and try to pull out the subconscious reason behind my pain? I’ve effectively avoided the book (even misplacing it several days), but now realize that if I want to be released from the pain and constant costs of thwarting it, there may be no way around facing myself. What I’ve read in the book sounds no different from what I heard from an internist in 1977 when he confirmed that the diagnosis was indeed colitis, but that the cause was most likely something in my life making me unhappy. Once I figured out what it was and dealt with it, he was proven right, and I never saw him again.
Scary journey — dissecting the cause of pain — but Dr. Sarno offers mantras to repeat along the way: This is not a structural abnormality; it is repressed emotions, physical activity is not dangerous; I will not be concerned or intimidated by the pain; I intend to be in control — not my subconscious mind; at all times I must think psychological, not physical.
Or I can think like an opossum while hanging upside down.
Contact Valarie Schwartz at 923-3746 or valariekays@mac.com.
