A cure for a bad back
I have been blessed with a bad back.
Doubtless there are countless studies that have discovered beyond any doubt that it’s caused by smoking but that’s not what Doc says. He says it’s down to my build. Apparently my spine is built for elegance rather than functionality [not his precise words but you get the drift] and there is fuck all I can do about it.
No matter how careful I am, it still hits at unexpected times.
Once, many moons ago our daughter K8 [who was only a nipper at the time] quite unexpectedly launched herself from half way up the stairs into my arms. The back went crack and we ended on the floor. She thought my writhings were hilarious. The next time she did it, I just stepped to one side and let gravity do its job. There wasn’t a third time.
Another time we took delivery of a lorry load of peat briquettes. I spent a sweaty afternoon carrying them around to the shed, and believe me they are fucking heavy after a while. I carefully bent my knees each pickup and kept my back straight. All went without a hitch and I got the whole load transferred without a single twinge from the vertebrae. Then I went to pick up one tiny piece that had broken off – bang goes the back!
It’s gone again.
I don’t know what caused it this time around but it is fucking painful. It’s quite OK if I sit quietly. It is fine if I stand quietly. Getting from the former position to the latter is sheer fucking agony, and what’s worse, because it’s pain free when sitting down I forget about the damned thing and spring up out of my chair like a spring lamb only to get stuck in an agonising stoop.
I have however found a position that gives me considerable relief.
I just need to sit on a stool – preferably a high stool. I must have something solid that I can rest my elbows on, such as an oak counter. A brass rail to rest my feet on also helps. Once in this position, I need to do a little exercise which consists of grasping a cylindrical glass object about six inches high that contains a liquid. This cylinder must be lifted at regular intervals and a portion of the liquid is removed each time. Once the cylinder is empty, it must be refilled again and the cycle is repeated.
It works every time.
Hie ye to such a place without delay then, son.
Better yet, or so I am told, make it a place with a touch of gloom in the corners, and where one might possibly puff in peace as well.
I think I may know of just such a spot. By sheer coincidence it's a corner of the pub in the village. The things I suffer for the sake of my health……..
So I guess you have a sore back most days then based on the "required" cure!!??
Those bales of briquettes are heavy yokes – it's trying to lift them with that evil green binding they use to hold the bale together that's no fun either.
I swear they sharpen the edges of those straps – they'd take the fingers off you. I saw an invention once that was a wee handle that slipped under the strap. I must try making a couple for myself.
I remember seeing that as well – I think it was one of those "inventions" they used to do on the Late Late show. Never saw it in the shops though.
geez i thought that was a secret cure only i knew about…best get at 'er gd, and i'll lift a few on this end with empathy
Actually it's quite a good cure for a lot of ailments. Tests show that it is also quite good at prevention. I have been practicing the exercise for many years now and have never ever come down with a dose of Scurvy, Ebola or The Black Death so there must be something in the theory?
I once lived with someone who suffered with an intermittent bad back. When she got it, I got it, and it was crippling. I was a walking No. 7, and I even lost a job over absenteeism. It's tricky getting to the doctor's when you can't get out of bed.
I don't live with her now and my back is fine.
It's my wrist I'm having trouble with.
Have you tried switching hands? With a bit of practice it can be done without losing stroke [or so I'm told]
I tried that once myself. It never did heal properly.
I agree that the plastic binding around the briquette bales is a divil on the skin of the fingers. Suggest the wearing of surgical or kitchen rubber gloves as precaution. But I don't know what causes the back problem. You observe the old drill of keeping the back straight when lifting, don't you? I never found a single bale heavy. And I love the peaty smell the burning stuff gives to my fireplace.
Those damned things would shred a glove to ribbons. I just lift the bails like they were boxes – a hand under either end.
As for keeping my back straight, I am a walking example of how to lift things – knees bent, back straight, no sudden jerks, etc etc. Doesn't stop the back from going though.
Oh, I sympathize, empathize and any other 'thize you can think of. I'm cursed with a service-related back injury that does all you describe and is just as unpredictable. When it really goes out I can't even move my arms so hoisting and emptying that cylindrical device you speak of isn't even possible. When this happens, my lovely wife hauls me over to her store, sets me in one of the hammock chairs she sells and uses me as a display unit. At least I feel usefull?