I was up early and looking forward to a trip down town - I walk down from the Pinehill Road most every day as does Polly. I had done my foot exercises like a good boy. These consist of sitting on the edge of the bed before taking a single step and stretching the plantar ten times with each stretch being held for ten seconds. When I finished I went to the sock drawer and then went back and sat once again on the dge of the bed. As I leaned forward to encase the first foot in its woolly container the most excruciating pain shot through my lower back. I screamed.
Twenty minutes later I was apologising to Polly for my unseemly screaming and swearing and feeling mildly relieved after a dose of paracetamol. After the slow painful finding of a position that is sort of bearable I am back in bed.
I know from past experience that there is no universal advice that one can follow for lower back pain. Some people can work through the pain and continue on their (less than merry I would hazard) way. Others can't move in any direction - my hand is raised here - and rest until better.
The last time I hurt my back, see earlier post, not all that long ago, it was the first time in ages and I rested briefly, then got up and moved around the house at a snail's pace. The next day I even walked down the town and back again feeling like superman.
Gosh, isn't the self healing power of the body a wonderful thing? My bum! In the morning I would have killed for morphine. I stayed in bed and took it easy for the next three days or so. It passed eventually until today - drat, drat and triple drat.
I'm in bed. It is sunny outside - cold but sunny. The cats have deserted me. I sincerely hope that today they do not appear with muddy paws. Now that we share a house with another human paw tracks on polished wood floors and kitchen work places are not encouraged. Trust this year to be damp and yucky.
Polly has gone to Uni and I am posting from my warm pit.