Somewhere around the middle of May, when I was deep into my kickboxing workout videos, I heard a distinct pop in my pelvis. Over the next few weeks, kicking with my right leg caused a clicking sound in my hip. Because I'm not always so bright, I solved the problem by easing up on the kickboxing and switching to strength/cardio workouts instead. No clicking, no issues.
By mid-June I started having some mild back discomfort. Some days were worse than others, but I never had any extreme pain. Just an annoying twinge here and there, usually more noticeable in the morning after spending seven hours sleeping on my right side. Not about to let anything derail my mission, I continued to ignore it and went about my business.
I stopped working out in the middle of August. When my mom came to visit with my niece and nephew for a few days, I reached to catch one of kids coming down the slide at the pool and felt a sharp burning pain under my right shoulder blade. Even though it was a one time thing, I figured I better give my back a break and stop the strenuous workouts. As the weeks passed, it was no better but also no worse. I would be really achy when I first got out of bed, but once I got moving it was okay and I'd feel the occasional twinge throughout the day. I was finally smart enough to find a new chiropractor in the middle of September.
Years ago, when I couldn't even stand up straight because of the knot in the middle of my back, my previous employer forced me to see a chiropractor. The mere thought made me want to vomit. I couldn't handle the sound of my own knuckles cracking, and the idea of someone else popping and snapping my bones into place simply scared the shit out of me. But, as long as I live, I'll never forget the way I felt after that first visit with Dr. Poole.
I suppose I was a bit hard on my body. Years of gymnastics and cheerleading surely took a toll. Then pile on years of working in front of a computer with far less than perfect posture. My whole body tingled after my first visit with Dr. Poole. I no longer felt like someone was stabbing me in the back when I tried to stand up straight. I felt completely different. Taller, even. Strange, but true. I saw her regularly for a few weeks until she was sure all my bones were staying in place, and then every three months on average I would return for a tune up when I started to feel a bit off.
About six months after Punky's birth, I went in for my first realignment post-pregnancy. She warned that carrying a baby around would probably lead to more frequent visits, but that was fine with me. I was no longer afraid of the cracking and popping, and I always felt brand new afterward.
Then something terrible happened a few weeks later. Dr. Poole was walking her dogs one evening after work and suffered a massive heart attack. She passed away almost instantly on the sidewalk in her neighborhood before anyone could even try to help. And so ended my regular chiropractor visits. I trusted her, and only her, and I wasn't in the least bit interested in finding a replacement.
Over the last few years, I've gone from lugging a ten-pound infant around to toting a thirty-pound three-year-old. Our terrible mattress had gotten progressively worse. I've continued to work forty hours a week in front of a computer. My February brainstorm to lose weight and get fit by literally working my ass, and belly, off with Jillian Micheals videos was apparently the straw that broke the camel's back.
I like the new guy. He's surely no Dr. Poole, but he's nice enough and I'm not terrified to go there. His initial assessment revealed exactly what I thought: my hips were completely out of alignment. The muscles running up the right side of my spine were all scrunched up and pulling the intercostal muscles between my ribs. As a result, two of my ribs managed to twist which exposed their sharp bottom edges and led to the discomfort I was feeling. Sounds logical, right?
It took four visits to get my hips to stay where they are supposed to be, and a fifth visit to confirm they hadn't moved. That was almost two weeks ago, but I had to go back today for visit number six. He tapped my ribs into place a few times, but he didn't corrected them once my pelvis finally settled and my back was still bothering me. He thought it would get better on its own, but that wasn't the case. So today, he attempted to stretch the muscles between my ribs before getting his spring-loaded metal mallet thingy and untwisting the bones. It was extremely painful and I know I will be incredibly sore for days.
But here's the thing: I'm scared. Really scared. It's just not getting better. I still don't have any extreme pain, but something isn't right. And I'm terrified at the possibilities. I haven't been sleeping. I haven't been eating. And I haven't been all too pleasant to be around lately. I know if this doesn't work, x-rays are the next step. My stomach turns when I think about the things they may reveal.
I want to feel better. I want to get back to being active. I want to continue my journey to a healthier me.
Here's to hoping things return to normal soon. The worst case scenario is all I can think about, and I'm driving myself crazy.
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