My Aiken back

It’s not a good sign when, two minutes into a two-hour nature hike, you are wondering if you will, in fact, be able to walk another step.
I was taking my daughter’s Brownie troop on a walk in the woods. The girls were heading down a steep path, and I decided to get ahead of them so I could help them down toward the bottom. I darted between a few trees and jumped the last five feet or so. The moment I landed, two things went through my mind:
1. Ouch.
2. You are with a Brownie troop. Just stick with saying “Ouch.”
A wretched pain shot up through my back and neck. Had I been at home, I would have probably just dropped down right then and called for my wife, who would have found me hours later in the backyard. But I was not about to be the first one to drop on a Brownie hike.
Straightening up as best I could, I got to the bottom of the hill and helped them down the hill. I was hoping that the back pain was a temporary thing and it would work itself out over the walk. I should have also wished for the ability to fly because that wish would have had the same success.
As we walked, it got worse. The pain was more and more, and it was starting to restrict my movement. Someone would call for me to look at something, and rather than being able to turn my head, I would have to swivel like Robocop to face someone. It was also a joy when I was turning over logs to look for critters or trying to look up to show the girls birds or trees.
After about a half hour, I just decided that I was going to block out the pain and soldier on. I was going to refuse to acknowledge the discomfort and have the best nature walk ever. The pain disagreed and told me I would, in fact, acknowledge it, and it was going to enjoy the nature walk, feasting on my delicious discomfort.
We eventually made it through the walk, and I think I was able to do it without complaining. When we started home, I called my wife and told her what had happened. “Oh, no...” she said.
I would like to think that it was an “Oh, no, my poor husband is hurting.” I think the more realistic one was “Oh, no, I have a giant baby coming home who will let me know that this is the single worst pain any human has ever endured.”
When I got home, I went straight upstairs to lie down. This did not make my back feel better, so I tried complaining to see if that would help. Also not helpful.
I made it through the day without much relief on the back. When I went to bed that night, I figured a nice night’s sleep would be all I needed to take care of it. Turns out, when your back is making you contort like Quasimodo, it’s hard to get a good night’s sleep. I woke up the next morning and guess I forgot about the pain because I made the unforgivable mistake of trying to step out of bed. My wife has assured me that there are better ways to wake her up than with a shriek of pain.
My wife told me that I needed to take some medicine and get back in bed. I told her I wasn’t sleepy. She told me the medicine would take care of that.
Prior to doing that, I told her I wanted some time to see if it would work itself out. Plus, Allie was singing in church that morning, so I felt I needed to be there. Fast forward to halfway through the service. The pain had gotten to the point where I could hardly stand up, and my wife was having to help me up. When I was sitting, I was leaned over, angling my head the only way I could to keep the pain level somewhere between sheer and excruciating.
Eventually, I made it home, trying my best to appear as normal as possible. My wife got me set up with some medicine and a heating pad. Truth be told, I was in so much discomfort, I hardly remember climbing into bed. All I know is I turned on the television and saw that an Indiana Jones marathon was about to start. I remember the start of “Raiders of the Lost Ark.” When I woke up, it was the end of “Temple of Doom.”
When I awoke, I sat there for a minute doing a pain inventory. Didn’t really hurt. I started to sit up. No girlish shrieks coming from my mouth. Looked left. My head moved. Looked right. Moved that way, too. Wow, this was heading back into almost-human area.
While I still had a little stiffness and discomfort, it was miles away from what it was. After a couple of days, I was pretty much completely healed. It was far from fun, but at least I know that I am at least as tough as a Brownie.