I'm four weeks now with my sciatica. The pain was decreasing a couple weeks ago but it's returned to a steady state. I can walk, but only slow like my great Aunt Flora - poor thing was stooped and often walked with her hand on her lower back as if it provided some sort of comfort. I can't carry much. And I spend all of my energy avoiding any move, position or posture that will trigger a severe attack, because there are many, and I don't like pain; sneezing is like a knife in the back of the leg (not that I know what that feels like). I noticed after I put my shoes on this morning that when I walk, my left foot is pigeon-toed. (That means it's turned in.) Another unconscious contortion to lessen the aggravation. Going to bed is great. Laying down provides the only true relief. But by morning, I dread getting out of bed. It's as if gravity itself is a force stronger than my spine can tolerate.

I visited two chiropractors last week, got x-rays, and heard their conclusions and treatment proposals. I would have been stunned by the cost of either if I hadn't been depressed about the diagnosis. Sitting in the first chiro's office he reviewed the x-rays and pointed to several problems including a forward leaning neck that will wear badly as I age and a couple misaligned vertebrae that cause me regular headaches - both of which I was already familiar with but had neglected to resume treatment for. As he traced further down the spine it was new information, new problems I hadn't seen or would have ever guessed existed. My pelvis is crooked both forward and in height. Difficult to tell in two dimensions, but I believe it means one hip is forward and up. And the last vertebrae is in the second stage of deterioration and compression. I was informed that with treatment it could return 80-90%. So before I get to the base of the matter, I'll explain that the vertebrae are compressing the disc between them to half the height it should be. We have nerves coming out of holes by these discs and when things compress, it can pinch the nerve, and even bulge the disc out so it presses on a nerve or your spinal column. When it hits your sciatic nerve, it's called "sciatica", and it travels all the way down your leg. So the pain is in the butt, down the thigh, etc. Mine has retracted out of my calf, but my foot remains partially numb - similar to when novocaine starts wearing off your mouth.

The second chiro confirmed these problems and had a slightly different treatment plan that I did not go with. Dr. #1 recommended decompression, like he did my dad, and given the swerve in my lower spine caused by my hips, and the compressed disc, it made the most sense to me.

So a day at the chiro looks like this: I sometimes start with decompression and get strapped into a harness that covers my pelvis and up through the bottom portion of my rib cage, making it impossible to take a deep breath. I get laid out on a table, hooked up at both ends, and pulled on. It's not like horses or anything; it's much more modern. :) I do feel a bit like an accordion though.

Then I get adjusted, and if you've been to a chiropractor lately, many no longer do forced manipulation, but use a kind of jack-hammer to move it back in place. I promise, it's gentle compared to the old method (and a real jack-hammer).

Then it's a hot laser treatment, which feels like a stream of water that penetrates my skin and warms the muscles and sore spots. It's supposed to help your tissue heal. It feels amazing actually and I wish it went longer than eight minutes...

They throw in a little pressure-point massage, and today I also got strapped on yet another thingy to attempt to improve my mobility, but as it wasn't a pain-free experience, we couldn't do much.

So that's the physiology, which is interesting to be sure...but not the heart of the matter. I find the situation to be a tough spiritual endurance test. How do you stay in pain for a month and ward off depression? How do you keep hope that you will feel better when you haven't yet? Worn down by my condition and caring for my son, when I heard the doctor tell me I had permanent damage I was nearly in tears. I felt the blow I felt when my retina detached. I'm 35 and I've lost another piece of my health that I can never fully get back. I won't know what limitations it will cause, if any. Only time and healing will tell. But I can tell you, it's hard.

I know, it sounds petty and dramatic; perhaps it's even a cry for attention. I'm not dying. I'm not diseased. I'm functioning, albeit at a lower level. My lumbar #5 could be in stage three instead of stage two. I should be grateful for my blessings and gifts. And I'm sure I am. But I can tell you, it's hard.

So I'll end my tale on one of those grateful notes. Zachary accompanied me on my second visit, which was handled by a substitute chiro. (Grrrrr) In the adjustment chair, he used a harder-hitting setting and when he got to lumbar #5 I yelped out in pain and instantly shed tears. My son came right to my side, told me not to cry, and then took my hand in his and kissed it. He's only four and already has a loving, compassionate heart. I couldn't be more proud of the person he is becoming.

*sniff*