MY
ACHING BACK!
By Bob Lucas
(published in TESA News, May
1983)
That was an
expression used back in the days of World War II to express complete
frustration, but it's now used to describe the physical condition of many human
beings, myself included.
Last month's
TESA-News informed its readers that I was in the hospital again, for the third
time in a little more than a year, and wished me a speedy recovery. Thanks, I
needed that. Now, a brief recap: my first visit to a hospital in March of 1982
was for the removal of two herniated disks; the second trip was suggested by a
neurologist who attempted to alleviate some residual pain; the third
confinement was in St. Louis
University's Pain
Management Program in a last-ditch effort to make me feel better. I emphasize
"last-ditch" because a return trip to the surgeon who had performed
my laminectomy elicited no promise of more relief through additional surgery
and my family doctor informed me that I'd just have to "live with a little
pain." (Unlike TV technicians, doctors don't have to guarantee their work
for extended periods of time.)
By the time I got
to my initial interview with the doctors at the Pain Management Program (PMP)
my pain was excruciating, and after talking with them for over an hour I was
convinced they wouldn't be able to help me, either. They told me that pain had
taken over my entire body, a fact I already knew, and that they would try to
get me to put it in the proper perspective. An internist checked out my body
and pronounced that he thought that they could help me. That's all the
encouragement I needed. In the back of my mind I still had the feeling that
maybe they'd take some X-ray pictures and get me psyched up for more surgery
that would really fix me up.
When I was
informed as to what I should bring to the hospital I felt that they had
confused me with some other patient: gym shoes and sweat clothes. Heck, I
haven't had those items in about forty years, didn't they know I was
practically a cripple? When they reassured me that I wouldn't just spend the
day in bed in my pajamas, I figured that I'd better go shopping at a
neighborhood discount store and get the latest fashions in exercise togs, still
skeptical.
After I was
admitted through Desloge Hospital,
where I received the routine entrance examinations, I was ushered to my room in
the Wohl Mental Health
Building. This confirmed
some of my deeper suspicions -- I'm a mental case. Very soon, though, I learned
the wisdom of this location. It wasn't really structured like a hospital. Not
one patient was bed-ridden, and all were granted a great deal of freedom. The
PMP occupies a block of about nine rooms, only five of which are occupied.
There is a lounge with refrigerator, sink and electric range, color TV, table,
chairs, and a couch. One concession was made to hospital procedure in the form
of a nurses' station which was headquarters for the full time nurse for the
program. I hasten to point out that, while these R.N.'s routinely checked blood
pressure, pulse, and temperature, they also encouraged the patients to do their
"homework" in the evening.
Before any of the
programs were entered into, each patient underwent a stress test in the
cardiology department, wherein he operated a stationary bike or a treadmill to
the point of physical fatigue, roughly that point at which the pulse rate was
about twice the normal rate. Vital signs were constantly monitored during this
test to make sure they didn’t hasten the patient’s demise. At this point they knew the patient’s limits
which they didn’t want to exceed in any of the exercise programs.
With the aid of a
caliper they determined how much of my svelte body was excess baggage (fat) and
how many pounds I would have to lose to achieve the perfect weight for my
height. Try as I might, I was unable to convince them that I was not overweight
but six inches short, but they put me on a weight-reduction diet anyway.
With these
preliminary examinations completed, the patient is ready to enter the
day-by-day routine. It goes like this:
0700 Rise and Shine - Blood pressure
and temperature
0800 Breakfast
0830 Monday, Wednesday & Friday -
visit with Internist
0900 Exercise Physiology (workout in
gym)
1000 Biofeedback
1100 Occupational/Physical Therapy
1200 Lunch
1330 Group (air feelings with other
patients - supervised)
1430 Physical Therapy
1600 Seminar (Learn about pain &
stresses)
1730 Dinner (followed by 'homework,'
visitors, etc.)
2230 M.A.S.H. (not compulsory)
Bedtime optional
As I stated
before, pain was ruling my body, and it was decided that my upper back pain was
caused by muscle spasms caused by my "steeling" myself and stiffening
my shoulders every time I got a twinge of pain from the lower back, which they
told me I was entitled to have. Twice-a-day massages from the physical
therapist helped work the kinks out of those shoulder muscles, to the point
that they made a believer out of me - that pain receeded from a '5' on a scale
of from ‘1’ - (discomfort) to '5' - (excrutiating pain) to a '0' - (no pain!!)
Biofeedback helped to educate me in ways to relax those muscles so they don't
spasm again; now, when I get the pain in the lower back, I'm supposed to relax
the shoulders.
In brief, the
whole PMP can be summed up in one word, ADAPT:
Acceptance of the pain which remains forever
Dealing with doctors, neither overusing or underusing
Aiming at reachable goals
Pacing activity level to avoid overdo-underdo cycle
Timing medication use to keep pain within manageable
limits.
I've tried to sum
up in a few words what I've learned in three weeks. If you’d like to listen, I’ll happily tell
you more, and reinforce my feelings at the same time.
