I remember the exact moment my lower back decided to quit on me. It was a crisp Friday night, third quarter of my nephew’s high school football game. I went to stand up to cheer, and a sharp, white-hot spike shot straight from my glute down to my ankle. I gasped, fell back onto that…
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It was a crisp Tuesday morning when my lower back decided to hold me hostage. I had just finished a painless, forty-minute drive to my favorite local coffee shop, feeling completely fine. I turned off the ignition, swung my right leg out of the door, and casually twisted my torso to grab my laptop bag…
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I still remember shuffling off a six-hour flight from Chicago, dragging my carry-on, and feeling like my spine had been fused into a solid, unyielding block of concrete. I was only in my thirties, yet I walked through the terminal hunched over like a folding chair. In my early days of frequent travel, I made…
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I remember the exact moment my spine decided it had enough. I was standing in the middle of our dimly lit nursery at 3:00 AM, rocking my newborn. To get her to stop crying, I had aggressively shifted my hip to the left, creating a temporary shelf for her to rest on. Suddenly, a sharp,…
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It was a chilly Tuesday morning, and I was running late. I bent straight over from my hips, knees locked, reaching down to tie my favorite running shoes. In an instant, a sharp, white-hot flash of pain shot through my lower lumbar region, leaving me gasping and clutching the bedroom dresser. I was stuck in…
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I still remember the exact moment my lower back gave out. It was a drizzly Tuesday morning, and I was trying to maneuver my sleeping infant in their infant car seat out of the sedan. I did the usual move: I slid my arm through the plastic handle, hooked it at the crook of my…
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I still remember the exact Tuesday morning my back decided to go on strike. I was standing in front of my locker, loaded down like a pack mule preparing for a multi-day trek across the Andes, when a sudden, sharp ache bloomed right between my shoulder blades. I was only seventeen, yet I felt ninety.…
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I still remember the exact sound my lower back made. It was a dull, wet pop, right there in the driveway of my own home. I was holding two overstuffed canvas grocery bags in my left hand and trying to hook a gallon of whole milk with my right index finger. I twisted, reached, and…
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I still remember the sharp, hot poker sensation that flared up in my lower back every time I tried to tie my shoes. For years, I was the king of the crunch. I thought a strong core was synonymous with a six-pack, so I would spend fifteen minutes every night hammering out sit-ups on my…
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I remember the exact sound it made. It wasn’t a loud crack, but more like a wet thud deep in my lower back as I reached for a box of old college textbooks. I was bending over at the waist—the classic crane position—thinking I was being efficient. Instead, I spent the next three days staring…
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