Middle age plus 6/26

I need to confess. In my years of being a social worker, I often would question in my mind when someone used a bad back as a reason for not being able to work. They usually looked hale and hearty and the slight stiffness they showed when they walked could easily be an act. It seemed that so many young men came with this complaint that I really became very doubtful about most of them. There was no way they could prove that their back hurt unless they really had a fracture or injury. But there was also no way I could prove that their back problem wasn't real. So I usually did what I could to help even though I harbored many doubts. Well, my chickens have come home to roost. The last two weeks I have been having back trouble. I look hale and hearty, and I don't even walk with much stiffness at all. But when I lie down my back gives me fits. I had a traumatic night about a week ago when I decided to try the living room sofa to see if I wouldn't rest better there. I painfully got out of bed, trying not to awaken my husband. I went to the living room and got half way down on the sofa when a pain hit me so bad that I couldn't lie down, or even get into a comfortable sitting position. But I couldn't get up either. At that point I forgot about not bothering Lester's sleep and started yelling for him to come help me. He had taken some medicine to make him drowsy and he was out cold. I yelled and yelled until he finally heard me and came to help. With much effort and pain he got me to my feet, found an over-the-counter pain medicine and got me eased into the Lazy Boy while it was erect. I spent the rest of the night there, and in the morning got an appointment with a doctor to get fixed up. I had to wake Nancy Malcolm up at 7 a.m. to see if she could cover for me with a story interview at 9 a.m. She sleepily agreed to do it for me, and I sat in the chair until time to get to my appointment. A week later, all I have is a very dry mouth from the medicine, and a few reminders in my back when I first lie down at night. And I also have a guilty feeling about my suspicions over the years as I counseled with those who complained of a sore back. I now know how they felt and it IS bad enough to need to cut back on physical work. So today Lester is mowing our lawn so that my back won't complain again if I sit on the mower seat for a couple hours of mowing. I thought about suggesting he vacuum the rugs for me also while I have this good excuse, but he knows I probably wouldn't have vacuumed them today anyway. I really like to mow the lawn and have chosen to make that my responsibility. But not today. Surprisingly one of the things that does bother me is leaning over the sink to wash dishes. I don't think that will fit into the category of riding the lawn mower, so I just do a few at a time and don't ask for help there. When you are middle age plus, you can expect a few things to remind you of your age. But I didn't expect it to come so loud and clear. And it first started in the week of my birthday. What a way to celebrate!