Until this year, I never understood what back pain was, nor did I understand the depth of pain that sufferers endure. Then it happened to me.
On a trip in March, I pulled my bag out of the overhead compartment, and the rest is chiropractic history. The muscle spasms started about a week later – when I collapsed to the floor mid-conversation. At the office. Always fun.
My PCP prescribed Flexeril. Fun, but not a solution since the muscle spasms continued to cripple me. And after a month of living in pain, I gave up. Perhaps the chiropractor would be necessary, despite my bias.
So, I went. And much to my amazement, I got better. Yay!
THEN. (There’s always a “then” in these stories, isn’t there?) Then, I took a long business trip involving 1000 miles of driving (seriously) combined with sleeping in hotels, etc, etc, etc. Needless to say, the muscle spasms returned this week. With a vengance.
This is me going back to the chiropractor. sniff