Back to Basics

As a child, I thought there were some funny things about my parents. But you know, every child thinks that, right? For one thing, my mother had to wear these crazy thick pantyhose day in and day out. I remember helping her peel them off before bed and then handing them back to her when she awoke and before she could stand up. I think this must have been for her daily afternoon nap, which she still takes by the way, since I remember 6:30 pm being my bedtime until I was at least 17 (okay, not quite, but pretty close). Also my parents’ bed was tilted with these ginormous wooden block contraptions holding the foot of the bed several inches off the floor. My mom had the leg problem I had a slight version of during my pregnancy. I remember being utterly embarrassed when she was pregnant and we were forced to sit on the front row at church with her leg and foot up in the air. Now I know how it feels to be that leg and foot. While mine has continued, it has been to a much lesser degree, and hers obviously wasn’t. The funny thing was, often when I would enter my parents’ room (and usually bed – why do all kids do this?) early each morning, I would find my Mom sleeping with her feet up in the air and next to her my Dad’s feet. He, being an allergy sufferer, couldn’t handle the incline and so, inevitably, they lovingly slept with each other’s feet. As a child this was a bit silly, now it makes me guffaw. Other mornings we would enter only to find my Dad with his head and neck hanging down the bed end, face bright red, focused and intent on the “exercises” he was doing for his back and neck. Both my parents had back problems too – could it have been that silly bed? I don’t know. Regardless, I remember the “wieners and sausages” we called them, a sort of neck brace that Dad often had to wear when in discomfort. As a child, I always thought that a heating pad was meant to stay on the big chair, I didn’t understand how intense and horrible back pain can be, and how a little heat can bring huge relief. It’s funny how the memories all come flooding in. Not so funny when you can relate.

This morning I went up to hug my sleepy-eyed four year old boy who was standing at the top of the stairs, confused because he had slept in for the first time ever and was wondering where we all were. I hugged him and picked him up and took two steps down the stairs with him in my arms… and then my back went out. It’s horrible. I can’t bend down to get something I dropped, I can’t pick up my baby, I can’t carry my diaper bag or church bag or any bag, and any little movement – including a cough or sneeze – are death-defying. I remember Dad’s big sneezes and then his cringing “ow” – but now, unfortunately, I can relate.

So I’m getting old, apparently. I even took a nap today. As I lay with a heating pad on my back and now prepare to take a hot bath (I hate baths), I’m trying to figure out how I’m going to get everything done when Mr. Man leaves tomorrow morning. Hopefully I’ll sleep it right and wake up feeling all better. I really don’t want it to linger longer and go see a doctor who encourages me to do funny exercises hanging off the back of my bed. But time will tell.