Lumbar spine - a little crisis

After a major lumbar spine crisis in autumn 2024 my orthopaedist predicted such incidences would recur, given the irreversible degradation of my bones. The causes of the acute pain were eliminated and preventive measures, including strengthening muscles, to take the strain off the spine, were put in place. For many months, I could say I fought several battles for an active, pain-free life in a war which I will most likely lose. My aim is to defer the defeat by possibly many years, counting on a progress in medicine which would let a potential surgery be less invasive.

With some minor incidences of ache along the way, it all went smoothly until Saturday, 11 July. After the walk around the neighbourhood, which involved mostly standing upright for more than two hours, I felt a pain down my back, but took a rest, exercised a bit and chased it away. On Sunday, 12 July I forgot to take a towel to a swimming pool. I realised it in a locker room, but decided to carry on and return home wet, despite chilly (as for July) and windy weather. 

A few hours later I felt the pain which could not be exercised nor massaged away. It somewhat immobilised me, got so severe that I could not sleep at night. On Monday I started out an emergency procedure, i.e. making an appointment with a GP and any orthopaedist under my medical care plan to get an MRI referral, making sure my physiotherapist would be up to the task and arranging lifts to get there (for some two days I was unable to drive, nor to walk without trekking sticks).

Comparing the current incident, hopefully drawing to a close with the one dated September 2024, I notice numerous differences:
- 2024: I did not take any precautions, now: it occurred after months of taking preventive measures,
- 2024: I did have a lot of physical activity, maybe too intense, now: moderate, frequent, manifold exercising, including weekly visits to a gym with u customised workout plan devised by an experienced physiotherapist,
- 2024: the pain was developing for some 10 days, but I kept shrugging it off, hoping it would go away, now: my attempts to nip it in the bud went in vain and the pain knocked me down within 3 hours,
- 2024: the pain nearly immobilised and I could not sit (except for when I really needed to) for some 3 weeks or so, now: for one day I had problems with both sitting and walking, then I just could not sit for more than half an hour for a few days,
- 2024: I took a sickie for a week and then worked from bed for five weeks, now: worked from bed for a week,
- 2024: the very first symptom, with hindsight heralding the disaster was an acute ache when sneezing, now: it did not ache when I sneezed,
- 2024: strong opium-based painkillers did not seem to help (or without them I would have been screaming out), now: painkillers relieved the pain reasonably quickly (I have given up on them altogether after 11 days, reducing dosage over that time, as they remove the effect, not curing the cause).

I have broadly returned to most normal life activities, although I am waiting for green light for swimming. I had to call off a business trip planned for tomorrow and the day after tomorrow, as it could squander all my efforts to pull through.

I still don't know what sparked the passing crisis, but I find it hard to believe going out wet after swimming pool knocked me down so mercilessly.

Lesson of humility has been learnt. It was a terrible reminder taking care of myself might not be enough and callous days might come, no matter how badly I endeavour to avert them.

Half-year health musings

Exactly six months have elapsed since the biggest health crisis in my lifetime. I am now far from despair of being immobilised, yet still not being truly fit, which might never be the case, given irreversible nature of spine devastation.

I have recently learnt a new adage: healthy people have several quandaries, while ailing people have only one quandary. It brilliantly illustrates how problems with health might turn lives upside down.

A new chapter of my tribulations opened up in January. In early phase I put it down to break-up-related stress, yet then a penny dropped and I went to have an MRI done and consult my doctor, as some symptoms, such as atypical pain during and after lying on my back (a position which ought to give relief to spine) seemed upsetting. Currently I am in process of being diagnosed if I am in an early phase of ankylosing spondylitis (in simple words, a protracted inflammation of spine joints). I believe the likelihood of being affected by this disease is below 50%, yet if indeed it gripped me, a therapy to prevent its development will be put in place swiftly.

I try to remain optimistic, despite having it uphill in recent months. I revert to gratitude for what is still within my reach and for financial resources coming in useful and shy away from negativity and focusing on what has been taken away from me. Back single I should cycle, run, take up new things and generally live it up. Instead, I am redefining myself without dopamine produced during physical exercise.

The new wave of pain, less acute, yet disturbing coincides with reading this international bestseller. In his lengthy book, the author points out long-lasting stress or traumas contribute to most autoimmunological diseases, including cancer. Suppressed emotions remain in a body, accumulate and after a tipping point is reach, the body begins to destroy itself. The book contains stories of people who neglected themselves to take care of others and likely paid a price of ruined health. Despite approaching it with a bit of scepticism, I acknowledge scientifically the theory holds water and has provoked me to revise if my benevolence to the world is not excessive.

The memories of being bed-ridden in September 2024 haunt me frequently these days. I consider myself to be a rational man, however wonder if the timing of my ailment was not haphazard. Maybe thus the fate has prevented me from popping a question and brought forward the inevitable break-up of the dead-end relationship? Maybe the stiffness in my lumbar spine, hips and several other parts of my body is a wake-up call to take care of myself?

A new bicycle

Problems with the lumbar spine which turned my life upside down nearly half a year ago continue to have impact on my functioning and to some extent might constrain my life until the end of my days. My orthopaedist told me in back in September once I return to mobility, a mountain bike would not be an option. I first sat on my old bike after the crisis on 26 October, rode 3.4 kilometres around the neighbourhood to do the shopping and regretted it. Since then I cycled locally on warm winter days, but trips totalled to no more than 6 kilometres. Each time I felt it more or less in my spine, despite quite short length of journeys.

The key to not straining the spine is siting upright, which after some research turned out to be facilitated by a trekking bike with 23-inch frame, shock absorber under the saddle and regulated handlebar. Upon consulting a local renowned bike maintenance expert, I have chosen Unibike Vision GTS 23, manufactured in 2024 and purchased on the coldest day of the passing winter, still ahead of the imminent spring-triggered price list revision.

I took it for a post-factory maintenance and had a short first cycle. After years of riding a mountain bike, I still have to get used to the upright position, but my spine did not remind me of itself past the ride.

The bike has decent fixtures and is equipped with all accessories, therefore no additional purchase were required. It set my back PLN 2,429, however I bought the last one in Poland at such bargain price, as the catalogue price is PLN 2,699. The condition of my spine will likely mean a farewell to really long (above 50 kilometres) trips, mountain cycling and difficult terrain. The bike will be used recreationally and to give up on car usage whenever possible (in situations when public transport is not practicable).

I am slowly reconciling myself with the list of forbidden activities. Flights to another continent – likely out of question, the planet will be grateful and I will not visit the country which elected Donald Trump. A eurotrip by car with a few thousand kilometres behind the wheel within a fortnight – also unlikely. All-day mountain hikes, even with sticks – not yet. Taking up some new sport disciplines during which a spine could suffer either a sudden shock or would require being long in the same position – not recommended.

On Thursday I visited the orthopaedist, to consult my most recent MRI and to tell about my recent pain symptoms, which are totally different than what I had experienced half a year ago. He looked at the pictures, examined me and it seems my recent pains, far less acute and not impairing mobility, can be traced back to hip joints. Another therapy has just commenced. I hope it eases some discomfort and broaden the range of activities allowed without excessive risk of self-harm. Keep fingers crossed for me.

Recovery enters the second phase

As my health has been getting better, I switched from self-focus to more universal topics, yet if I want to keep records of those nasty days for posterity, a periodic follow-up is a must.

Just after the recent health-related post I went for a two-day corporate off-site some one and a half hour away from home. I endured the journeys (behind the wheel) there and back relatively well, yet agenda of the event necessitated too much sitting and gave too little time for lying-down breaks, hence it somewhat slowed down the progress of my recovery. If such delay was the price to pay for spirit-lifting socialising, for my body it was affordable.

The series of five collagen injections into tissues surrounding my lumbar spine is completed. I feel markedly better, but still I am way off normalcy. My doctor has set a checkpoint in mid-November and then he will recommend, whether to take me on for a hospital treatment. It would be a one-day stay, not a regular surgery and after spending a sizeable sum of money at his practice, he would fix it up for me under the public health insurance (such is the path to being admitted to a public hospital in Poland quickly).

This week my rehabilitation has commenced. I few years ago I would not use the word "rehabilitation" in such context, as I deemed it to be a false friend. After consulting some reputable monolingual online dictionaries I have changed my mind, although in does not sound naturally to me.

The memory of my disability is fresh and gruelling and I am determined not to let it repeat. Discipline in exercising is hence a must.

The physiotherapist who takes care of me has ordered me to return to normal activities, including sitting when working, bowing down, carrying moderately heavy weights and short-distance cycling. Following her advice means having to cope with already bearable pain; confronting it is essential if I am to get rid of it.

She also claims a full recovery with a relatively short list of forbidden activities is utterly conceivable. It will just take patience, discipline and require building muscles and stretching all parts of body which are not damaged, as my lumbar spine is.

A new "normalcy"

My recovery, progressing slowly since 10 September, is taking me back towards "normal" functioning. I do still feel gratitude for being able to walk (yesterday I wandered five kilometres, which two weeks ago was totally out of reach), to drive a car, I cherish every moment without pain. Yet my life remains far from how it looked like until early September. I still work mostly from bed, sitting is confined to half an hour (which indicates how far I can drive), cycling or recreational sports are still forbidden, but I got a green light for a swimming pool. Same as many household chores and DIY tasks, which have become my hobby. Szlachetna Paczka also involves carrying heavy boxes to beneficiaries. Unknown is the list of activities forbidden to me in the long term. I realise I will have to come to terms with some limitations.

Early this week I received MRI description. The wait was long, yet the very description was duly and comprehensively drawn up. Some excerpts are dreadful (forgive me not consulting a dictionary to translate all the stuff I find hard to grasp in my mother tongue), yet my doctor says it is not as bad as it reads and in a few weeks I will be back fit.

In the third decade of October physiotherapy should kick off, once I get a green light for it, my recovery should speed up. Most likely I will continue to work from home, so my workmates should not expect me to show up in the office until December I suppose.

Although in my off-work lifestyle is not sedentary, hours spent behind my desk have taken their toll on spine, even despite an investment into a fancy (home) office chair I made in June 2020. I still don't know how the problem of having to sit eight hours a day five days a week will be solved. Time will tell. Same about longer travels, for the time being impracticable.

There are moments when I believe everything is going to shape up and moments when I am filled with gloom. If at the age of 36 I have experienced such mobility disruption, then what will my spine by like in three decades? I thought depression would be my biggest health problem, yet with properly prescribed medicines it is under full control and has not broken out even in the last tough weeks.

I slowly tame the thought one day a surgery might be the best solution and the only chance for a normal life. If so, provided doctors recommend it, I will opt for the least invasive method involving shorter recovery. I will not count on the public healthcare. Over the whole life I have saved money also for a rainy day. In case of a downpour I will not hesitate to break my bank to ensure I have superior medical service.

Writing a diary of my disease has reminded me what blogging is about. The notes written now will be a testimony of what I have gone through and how I have felt. I am sure I will revisit those posts several times. The read will hopefully fill me then with appreciation of health and remind me merciful fate should not be taken for granted.

Malady as an experience

As I continue to slowly recover, the time is now to dissect what I have been going through as an experience. Although I had to deal with health problems of my parents and grandparents closely, an onlooker's perspective is not comparable to becoming "temporarily disabled", as there was a short moment (only a few hours) when my mobility was more reduced than of a person on a wheelchair.

I strive not to take things for granted. Whenever I (used to) sit behind the wheel I realise I run a risk of being a victim of a traffic accident. I could imagine being immobilised as a result of an accident or a sudden event, but being bed-ridden by a slowly progressing illness was well-beyond my imagination. Lesson learnt - do not take anything for granted.

A malady shrinks your universe. Cycling around Czech Republic in August, canoeing in July, foray to the seaside in June, hiking in May, weekend in Kraków in April. All out of reach even today. At the worst moment a walk to the toilet was a journey of my life. On Thursday I endured relatively well a trip to Wola to a doctor which was quite something.

Being partly immobilised also means reliance on other people even in the basic activities such as dressing up. With hindsight I was lucky to be able to use a toilet or to take a shower on my own, however managing that myself was tiresome as hell.

Switching from the state of being fit and healthy towards an ailment which at its nadir involved intensity of pain which did not allow me to move without screaming out loud was an experience on the verge of being beyond my comprehension.

Coping with pain was another tough lesson. Lying and not straining the spine is indispensable in process of alleviating the inflammation. But for various reasons you cannot lie down 100% of the time, as it would do more harm than good. But if you move, you need to do it carefully, as one reckless move can leave you still in an awkward position, while your neighbours would be wondering why the damn you are screaming a blue murder.

Being sick teaches also patience. In the past, as an adult, I had never been sick for more than a few days. This time, after being a week spent mostly in bed, I realised getting back to normalcy would be a matter of weeks and an upside scenario is that this lousy episode ends by late October. Trying to accelerate the recovery could mean taking several steps back on that path so slowly does it.

Suffering reminds how little sometimes it takes to bring out happiness. I cherished the moment I could walk around the house on my own, the first night when pain's waning intensity let me sleep full seven hours, the first half-a-mile walk. I still somewhat envy people who can ride a bike, run or just sit for more than half an hour, but I believe in a few weeks I will rejoin them.

When confronted with the malady, worries of a healthy man's ordinary life recede into the background. What still mattered was money, as in my situation I could not count on a national health service, while high-class services do cost a lot of money. Money does not bring happiness, but certainly helps.

The last observation is that karma returns. In the last years I did my best to help people in need. I have done it disinterestedly, yet frankly speaking it has paid back.

Once you have reached the end of this post, I call you on feeling gratitude for what you have. The formative experience I have been going through is what I would not wish on anybody.

Slowly on the mend

In the last days eyes in Poland were on the south-western part of the country plagued by the largest flood since 2010. Although major cities escaped getting under water, mostly thanks to a big detention basin Racibórz Dolny, completed in 2020, several small towns have been completely destroyed, especially when dams or embankments could not resist masses of bursting water.

My natural reaction in response to such disaster would be to get involved personally in some aid raising schemes. Sadly, my health prevented me from that. This time I had to take care of myself to be able to help others in the future and confined to donating money to foundations and organisations which will make good use of it. In such critical situations Poles tend to display short-lasting, yet intense commitment to help those in need, yet restoring the damaged areas will last months.

Back to my backyard – the progress of my recovery is slow, but visible. On Monday I returned to working from bed or standing next to a chest of drawers. Workload turned out to be burdensome, however I could no longer stand lying in bed and reading. Getting back to professional life at least gave me some flavour of the days when things were normal.

On Thursday I drove (the very driving was ok, but getting out of the car after sitting 25 minutes was a nightmare) to a renowned doctor specialising in the lumbar spine. Last weekend I did a three-hour search online to pick five best orthopaedists in the region and my girlfriend ranked them. The doctor, Mr Kamil Koszela (I wholeheartedly recommend in case you have a similar ailments, which I definitely not wish on you) turned out to fully deserve all accolades. Knowledgeable, friendly, helpful and honest – he started the least invasive therapy by injected collagen into tissues around aching joints. Being pricked with a thin needle in such sensitive places does not belong to pleasant experiences, but it seems to have helped a bit. Next sets of injections due on 26 September and on 3 October, with three sessions being a bare minimum, but the therapy might be extended up to 6 sets.

According to the doctor, pulling through will presumably last until the second half of October, therefore I patiently wait. I know I need to give my spine much rest, so only lying and walking are in order. On Friday we took a two-kilometre walk, yesterday I also strolled in the sunshine for 40 minutes or so. Such jaunts are optimum to keep the body in some motion, ye avoiding excessive strain.

After I recover I will need to take preventive steps to minimise the risk of such immobility bringing me down in the future. Besides, I still do not know what I will be proscribed to do and not to do in my daily life and in terms of doing sports recreationally. This uncertainty does not add comfort, but I remain upbeat when it comes to my life returning to normalcy.

Lying in bed, rather than on my way to LA

Last week I promised not to post for a month, as today I was supposed to be on my way to the USA West Coast. Health-related circumstances have coerced me to defer those plans. The problems with lumbar spine are not a novelty to me, yet for several months I could forgot about them altogether. I looked after it, had a lot of recreational exercise outdoors, took physiotherapy classes in winter. If the spine was under a strain of a carrying heavy stuff or assembling pieces of furniture, I did it all wisely and did not feel any discomfort.

Maybe I took it for granted that the spine would pay me back with a painless service. After those carefree months I simply shrugged off the first incidences of pain, hoping they would go as quickly as they came. There was a day in late August when it ached intensely, yet then it eased off.

The week starting on 2 September 2024 was dramatic at work. I sat for much longer than 8 hours, stressed-out and most of the time in a bizarre position, to keep the back of my thigh away from a chair, after my skin had been literally sliced by a thin and sharp leash kept by a thoughtless dog owner. Day by day the pain was getting worse, but I carried on ignoring it, until Friday, 6 September, when it became unbearable.

On 7 September I went to a GP. She prescribed me some painkillers and ordered to lie down in a “chair” position. I followed her recommendations for two days, yet without any signs of being on the mend. Conversely, the pain was only more acute.

On Monday, 9 September, I went (by underground, since getting into any passenger car was out of reach) to a neurologist and had an X-ray examination done. He prescribed me another set of painkillers, since the core medicine from the previous set could cause an adverse reaction with antidepressants I take. By the evening, things were getting only worse. After sunset I could move my arms, legs and head. Except for this, I was actually bed-ridden – getting out of bed would have involved too much pain. The memory of being walked by my girlfriend to the toilet and holding on to walls and doors will not be erased for a long time.

On Tuesday, 10 September, my father drove me to a physiotherapist for a manual therapy session. Actually the benefit of the very massage (as delicate as it could have been) was quite possibly thwarted by the journey by car (getting out of took me a minute each time).

On Wednesday, 11 September I snapped a last minute appointment to an orthopaedist. The only benefit of it was an emergency referral for an MRI.

The next two days I strived to avoid any strain, though on Friday I went for a 30-minute walk, since staying in bed most of the time had gotten wearisome. I was fit enough to walk for a while without a major ache, yet sitting was still out of reach. Actually I could spend my time lying or walking, as even standing involved a discomfort.

Yesterday I had my MRI done, I wait to be it described and keep looking out for a superb doctor, who would tell me what the dos and don’ts for the coming weeks are and who will oversee my path to recovery.

Lesson learnt from this incidence hitting just ahead of grand holidays – buy insurance and always mark if you have an underlying illness. I had not done it, but luckily managed to cut financial losses. All accommodations and car rental reservation could be cancelled free of charge, while the flights with PLL LOT, despite being in the lowest tariff, could be rescheduled for mere EUR 120. The trip is now scheduled to commence on 24 April 2025 which gives me plenty of time to recover, which is a matter of weeks rather than days.

A progress report to be published in a week.

Back from the recovery

Back in Warsaw, at home from the sanatory. The fortnight lasted quite long, yet I was doing my best to make the most of the pastime.

Friends familiar with the purpose of my journey had been wondering why I had not chosen a less distant destination (especially since long time spent behind the wheel is a hard time for lumbar spine). Firstly, my everlasting fondness for Dolnośląskie region draws me there, secondly, my only family well beyond Warsaw live in Jelenia Góra, who have kept me company for some time.

I also could have chosen a posh resort specialising in therapy, however given I am still rebuilding my savings after my flat purchase and the threat of a surgery (cost of PLN 30,000) and subsequent recovery has not been fended off, I have opted for a state-run sanatory with the full-board stay and three cure sessions per day set me back 175 PLN per night. If you count out three treatments which cost around 75 PLN, the remaining 100 PLN was the price for a single room and three meals a day (turning up to the canteen punctually at 8 a.m., 1 p.m. and 5 p.m. was infuriating to me) which was a cheapie, so I should not complain about the standard of a run-down two-star hotel which was my dwelling for nearly two weeks.

The usual day schedule from Monday to Friday was repeatable: three treatments between breakfast and lunch and then time off. The only weekend was also free of sanatory-based activity.

Not every day after morning treatments and exercises I had enough energy to take trips (some exercises and treatment can be exhausting), but I have done my best to make the most of my presence in South-western corner of Poland. I have not revisited places I had popped by in 2009 and 2013.

To the right, on the last day of May, I drove (without a car I would have gone crazy there) to visit Wodospad Kamieńczyka. I had been advised not to strain myself, so I slowly climbed a mile-long ascent, on the last section quite steep, but the effort was worth it. The waterfall in the seclusive, yet commercialized place is a marvellous venue.

On the next day I took a longer trip to see Zamek Czocha, one of less known attractions of the region, yet with fascinating history. The guided trip around the castle's nooks and crannies (duration 1 hour 20 minutes) is a must if you are in the vicinity of Jelenia Góra.

On Sunday I took my aunt and my niece for an all-day foray to the Rock City in Ardsprach, Czech Republic. The place had been recommended to me by many of my friends and they had been absolutely right. Despite crowds of visitors (most were Poles) and heat (+26C in the afternoon) the excursion was more than enjoyable.

The last destination of an afternoon trip on Wednesday before the check-out was Harrachov in Czech Republic, a winter resort famous for ski-jumping competition. My goal was to behold Mumlavsky Vodospad, literally a murmuring waterfall. Hidden in a forest and on business day in low season not plagued by droves of people. Only a group of Czech pupils were hanging around. I could not make a longer pause because of thunderstorm hanging in the air and threatening to burst out.

On my way back to Warsaw the obligatory stopover was Wrocław (one not-just-in-business visit this year ticked off). I walked around Ostrów Tumski and market square for more that an hour, then headed for an eatery to munch a lunch and set off to Warsaw.

Impressions?

My hopes for a company were dashed soon after the arrival. Average age of a sanatory guest is around 70, maybe except for some soldiers on a three-week ZUS-paid stay who began their day with a tin of beer before breakfast (and nobody bothered to pay attention to their inebriation); not my cup of tea. The very elderly people with their irritating habits can also make a young man’s life a misery.

My general observation is that the entire sanatory system ought to be torn down and built from scratch. In Poland a sanatory is a form of state-subsidised holidays for pensioners rather than form of cure for those in need regardless of age. My ideas for a turnaround are simple.

1. Prevention is better than cure, while sanatoria are focused on curing pain rather than on causes (in my instance, the goal was to prevent a surgery).

2. The system, just like in many other institutions, is based on pretending. If you don’t enforce what they are bound to provide you with, a sanatory will pretend to help you and you will pretend to be helped.

3. The sanatoria and towns where they are located should get focused on treatments only. Today, some parts of the ancillary business such as discotheques contribute to miracles of recovery then patients ill in the morning pull through on their way to the dancefloor.

Yesterday I was at the orthopaedist to have a professional examination of my MRI. I thought I was already on the mend, yet it turns out my spine might require a surgery in a few years, even despite continuous exercising. The vision of getting under a surgeon’s knife works as a first-rate motivation to me to sacrifice twenty to thirty minutes each evening to ward off the worst eventuality…

Lumbar spine, sadly not on the mend

Poles, when making (birthday, name-day or other) wishes to one another wish on themselves “above all health” (przede wszystkim zdrowia, alternatively, zdrowia, zdrowia i jeszcze raz pieniędzy). And this is what I could wish to myself. Work-wise, money-wise and social-wise (with a small gripe my friends could find more occasions to meet up) things are shaping up at least well. Only the problems with the lumbar spine put a damper on my lust for life, hopefully only temporarily.

Soon after the last update, I have finally found a decent physiotherapist who has worked up a proper set of exercises (having carefully examined the x-ray photo of my spine). The regular exercising has helped me cope with the morning pain (body stiffness after the entire night is the major nuisance) and generally stretched my body.

In the meantime, general circumstances were not conducive to mending the spine. Moving in, which involved carrying stuff and repeated thorough cleaning, has not given relief to my spine, despite following the rules how not to overstrain it.

I had my ups and downs, nevertheless, the pain did not hinder my normal functioning. Until last week, when cards were stacked against my spine. On the two last days of the long weekend I helped my parents prepare their house for the refurbishment. Moving pieces of furniture, carrying stuff, kneeling and bending have put a strain on the most vulnerable part of my body (leaving all other parts unaffected, happily). On Monday I took a business trip beyond Olsztyn, driving a rickety pool car, whose driver seat was so spoiled that I could not regulate the driver’s seat properly. Consequently, I found myself cramped behind the wheel for a total of five hours. While my legs, neck and other part of my body have quickly pulled through, my lumbar spine has not.

On Wednesday evening, while doing shopping I raised my leg to tie a shoelace and.. got stuck in such position (leg already down) with a terrible ache in my spine. Brushing aside the fact none of the shoppers bothered to pay attention to me, I waited out the worst pain, paid for the shopping and toddled home.

On Thursday a workmate helped me out with a painkiller, in the afternoon I went to a doctor who prescribed me another set of painkillers and wrote out a referral for MRI in urgent mode which I had done on Friday morning.

Just today I feel the improvement, either from painkillers finally doing their job, or the inflammatory spot easing off.

In two weeks I am heading to a… sanatory… Yes, indeed, I bought a fortnight intensive stay to have my spine cured. For a while my concern was whether I would withstand a five-hour drive there. Sadly, the only reasonable train which would bring me to Jelenia Góra by the time I must turn up to have the preliminary medical examination sets off from Warsaw just after 6 a.m., which means I could not vote in the election, something I would not forgive myself. Besides, not going car means a longer journey and involves more suitcase-carrying, on top does not offer flexibility of taking quick sightseeing trips around the mesmerising Dolny Śląsk. Hope within two weeks I am able to take a trip, just with one or two breaks along the way.

Young and healthy - for how long?

My problems with lumbar spine roughly date back to mid-2016. Around that time I had an episode of serious aches which I managed to overcome within a few weeks with a solid dose of exercising. After that I could boast of being in very good physical health (except for one knee injury in 2017) until late 2018…

The time when I overstrained my lumbar spine were the first weeks of the remont during which I did a lot to get rid of all stuff left in the flat by the previous owner with my bare hands (why paying somebody for a work I could do myself?). In the post-purchase euphoria I carried heavy loads and actually experienced little pain in my spine (though feeling I was risking an ache, but on the next day, not one which would keep me company incessantly).

The remont has actually accelerated the inevitable, since I had been ignoring temporary incidences of pain since more than five years. While doing several things which cricked my spine (carrying watering can, vacuum cleaning, bending while cleaning up, sweeping, doing gardening) I experienced the pain which would go away quickly after finishing a pernicious task. On top, factors to blame are sedentary lifestyle (I cannot avoid sitting in the office) and bad habits I am fighting.

While struggling the pains for recent two months, I have learnt I am not an outlier among healthy population. Horrifyingly, the percentage of people in their 30s or 40s having serious problems with their spines is enormous. Several of my workmates have advised me who (doctors, physiotherapists) to consult, taught exercises to strengthen and stretch several muscles, shared their methods of coping with pain and how to function (without giving up on essential activities) not to overreach the spine.

A decade ago I poked fun at my grandma, in her 80s then, who used to sat around with her neighbours on a bench outside their block of flats and went on about their illnesses for hours. These days I do the same while being 50 year younger!!!

I believe soon the life expectancy in developed countries begins to decline. Despite progress in medicine and technology, societies have to fight the battle against bad nutrition habits and lack of exercise. My generation was the last to spend their childhood playing about in the open air, not taking leaves off sport classes on mass scale and not spending hours staring at their computers and smartphones. My parents are frailer than my grandparents and I must claim to be less resilient to civilisation diseases than them. And so my peers do. Three of my four grandparents passed away at the age of 87, 89 and 92 and except for the very few months before the decease, all enjoyed good health. My parents, both 69 now, can gripe much more about their health than my grandparents who at such age were as fit as a fiddle. After the remont is over and the nagging pains are relieved, a pursuit of a recovery plan for my health is due/. I have already booked a fortnight stay at a sanatory where spine afflictions are cured, which is just a part of the plan, yet its crucial element.

Oddly enough, the my overall fitness has generally improved in recent months, meaning my body can tolerate more intensive effort before I get tired or lose my breath. Sadly, my bones, joints and muscles do not catch up.