What does this mean?

EW,

I happened to see your post regarding your current situation, and wanted to offer my two cents’ worth as a spine patient. I completely “get” your frustration, and have been at exactly the same juncture as you’re experiencing presently.

From 15 years of age until age 25, I powerlifted, did some non-professional bodybuilding, ran, played sports, and was in excellent physical condition. Although I’m female, I lifted considerable amounts of weight (405 deadlift, 195 bench), which in hindsight, likely contributed in part to my situation now.

At age 18, I ruptured a disk in my lumbar spine (L4-5) after sneezing one morning. I wish the whole thing could’ve occurred while saving kittens from a burning building, or from fending off an entire battalion of enemies in combat with my bare hands, but in the end, it was a simple sneeze, and hurt like h***. I waited 7 months to see a neurosurgeon, who yelled at me for 30 minutes because of the time lapse. I was 18, however, and had no clue as to why this guy was so angry with me. He had me in the operating room within a few days, and I underwent a laminectomy and diskectomy with no complications. He warned me, though, that 18 year old teenagers don’t usually rupture disks, and that I should prepare for this to happen again.

While serving in law enforcement, I engaged in a fight with a suspect whose entire 300lbs of bodyweight landed on top of me. When the adrenaline finally wore off the next morning, I felt the same tell-tale symptoms of ruptured disk #1. I had yet another surgery on two more ruptures (age 23), then finally had to undergo an L-3 to S1 fusion with plates in 1991 (age 26). That ended my law enforcement career, which affected me on 100 different levels that I won’t bore you with here. Suffice it to say I was mad at the world.

Since 1991, I’ve had 10 additional spine surgeries, including 5 on my cervical spine (C2 – T2), and a complete reconstruction of L-2 to S1. I just underwent bilateral fusions of my SI Joints in 2012 and 2013, which were needed after years of displaced kinetic energy affecting my pelvic/sacral joint spaces, and was diagnosed with severe bilateral sacroiliac joint dysfunction (SIJD&D). Although I never consult forums (such as this one) for advice on my health (or anything else), Dr. Corenman provided me with some great pre-operative information, including results of research studies on SI joint procedures and causes of the condition, possible complications from surgery, benefits, and so forth.

I can honestly tell you that while some would see my situation (and yours) as a “no brainer”, it’s never easy when it’s YOUR spine, and YOUR life. Yet, I can attest to the fact that had I not had these procedures, I’d likely be wheelchair-bound…. or, worse, I suspect. For me, it simply filtered itself down to this: quality of life. In your current physical condition, every sudden move or surge of kinetic energy (like that rogue sneeze in 1982) is placing strain on your disk spaces, your L5-S1 region, and the neural foramina that are impinging on nerve roots. Your comment that, “I don’t hurt while I’m active, but I feel pain afterward” is COMPLETELY understandable. This happened (and still does) with me as well… cleaning house, shoveling snow, riding my Harley-Davidson… I’m somewhat OK while I’m in motion, but as soon as I stop, I’m beyond miserable. My lower spine simply can’t take the movement and loading required to accomplish those otherwise simple, everyday tasks. Your spine can be equated to an Army… when the weak parts start to give out, the ones above and below try to pick up the slack to keep going… this constant redistribution puts a ton of strain on the surrounding disk spaces, bony structure, and peripheral nerve outlets. Thus, you end up like me… with everything wearing out simply by process of elimination. Hence, the “degenerative” nature of many spine conditions.

Finally, my ego has likely taken the biggest hit of all. If you could X-ray a person’s self-image, mine would have dents and scars all over it… It’s a pride thing, especially with Type-A personalities that hate to admit weakness, failure, and a loss of autonomy. I’m also coming to the realization (ever so slowly) that I’ll be under pain management care for the rest of my life, and will occasionally have to choke out the question, “Can you help me do….?” to my friends and family. Your alternative, however, is what you should spend time thinking about right now. There are pros and cons to every situation, and when it comes to one’s health, those are extremely important to consider.

Just keep a positive attitude, and view your current situation (and your body’s current condition) as a temporary setback that can, and will be corrected by a competent surgeon and post-operative care team. Grab the bull by the horns now (as I had to do 13 times) and try to stay in front of it. Your body will respond according to your mental state, and you’ll be just fine if you keep your head in the right place. Just don’t make the mistake I did and assume you’re ready to lift the family car off the ground a week after surgery… give your back time to heal, and follow the surgeon’s directives to the letter. A fusion / bone graft in the spine takes at LEAST 6-8 months to firmly set (just like concrete around rebar). Don’t compromise the integrity of the fusion by being stubborn. Easier said than done.

Good luck. I hope you don’t mind that I tossed out my experiences as they directly relate to your current situation. Again, it’s temporary, and can be managed (and corrected). Go get ’em.

Take care.