It finally happened. One minute, I was taking 4 dogs outside before daybreak. There were water bowls to fill, kibble to dole out, canine epileptic meds to disperse, and crusty pug eyes to clean. Sure, I did feel a twinge when I stooped to attach Finn’s leash to his collar, but once we were down the steps, everything was fine. Then, as I bent to pick a dog bowl up from the kitchen floor, for the first time in 53 years, I heard a snap and a pop. A lightning bolt of pain shot through my innards. Clinging to the kitchen counter to avoid falling, I didn’t recognize the animal making the awful noise in the background, until I realized it was me. I threw my back out at 6 am. As my husband sauntered through the kitchen to make a cup of coffee, he was met with this vision: his wife with her chin on the countertop, tears streaming down her face, unable to speak. “Hurts,” I managed. “Back.” I think I screamed. The happy-ish ending has me scheduled for an MRI this week. I can walk across the room now. But, how did I get here? That’s what I want to talk about today, because 2020 is the gift box full of dog poop that just keeps on giving.
Anytime I’m listening to a podcast I like and the host mentions a podcast she or he likes, I stop what I’m doing and write it on a note in my phone. I always give them a try, but I rarely agree with the host. I’m picky about audio. For instance, if there’s anything I don’t like about the person’s voice, it’s a no for me. I can’t take whining or a monotone voice or too slow talkers. So, with this most recent podcast suggestion, I did not have high hopes. The last several kudos from this specific host had not yielded anything I considered remotely listenable. Even the name of this podcast didn’t spark joy. Who decided “The Cure for Chronic Pain” was title worthy? I was in yawn mode before I ever pushed play. Except, I quite enjoyed that first episode, and about 50 episodes since. The woman’s voice was soothing and happy, but not overly so. She is a highly educated therapist, yet an everyday mom. She was in excruciating chronic pain for years, but now she’s not. Nicole Sachs, LCSW is now free of pain as is almost every patient she’s crossed paths with, and she wants to tell me all her secrets. Me, who was recently diagnosed with adult onset degenerative scoliosis and constantly feels like there’s a rusty soup can lid stuck under her scapula. But wait, what is she saying? My pain is a manifestation of my own emotional duress? What is this hokey pokey? What Nicole teaches, and what more and more doctors in this opioid abusive world are beginning to explain to us, is that sometimes you feel things in your heart, but sometimes you feel things in your body. If you have a stressful day at work and wind up with a headache in the evening, it’s not a shocker. What our medical professionals are starting to tell us is that this concept can be applied to larger scenarios. If you’ve had a stressful life (who hasn’t) and you’ve allowed past traumas to shape you (who hasn’t) and you find that your entire being is stuck in fight or flight mode 24/7 (who hasn’t this year), then the REAL pain you’re in, the actual incredibly painful symptoms you’re feeling COULD be a manifestation of a lot of fear, stress, anxiety, and rage that will get your attention somehow. Wait, Dina, are you about to start talking about an inner child and reverting back to learned behaviors we created when we were emotionally unable to defend ourselves? Why, yes. Yes I am. Moreover, this mind/body connection, the realization of how it works and how you can intervene for the sake of your own pain, can change your life. But, don’t take my word for it. Check out Nicole Sachs’ podcast anywhere podcasts are available. The best part about treating your pain with a mind/body approach is that it’s FREE! All you’ll need is a device and a little time.
The mind/body connection to pain is nothing new. What this podcast teaches you to do with that realization sets this approach apart. Nicole teaches you her journaling method. You’ll start off by doing a daily purge of feelings. Open a Word doc, vomit all the rage or fear or sadness in your heart onto this page. When you’re finished, erase the entire thing. You don’t need to re-read it and you need to feel free to say absolutely anything. No one will ever know. I committed to 30 days of this journaling approach. I will tell you that, just 2 weeks into this, the rusty soup can lid has been extracted from my scapula. I can look behind my right shoulder when I’m backing out of my driveway with zero pain. All of my relationships have fresh life breathed into them. I’m in a great mood these days. But, what about your back? Glad you asked. I’m still having that MRI. Yet, I’m hopeful that I will be able to convince my back that it’s time to ditch the fear and the anger and the angst. Also, I should bend from the knees. 53 year old tailbones that once broke during childbirth shouldn’t hinge from the hips, even for a dog bowl retrieval. Here’s a pic of Finn, just because he’s cute.
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