Some say I never really had a spine, which started quite early in kindergarten. Well, I never was the bully and certainly got convinced that if I had a spine, it must be pretty weak. A couple years later, entering teenage-hood, I got enlightened with direct evidence that, indeed something was holding up my back. And it was alive! It was quite a chatty one of its kind and so I found myself in direct communication with it. Well, actually it was more of a monologue on part of its highness. All I had to do was listen in. And since the messages I got were neither subtle nor encrypted in anyway, I should have gotten the picture: something was wrong!
However, as it always starts out this one also came with no big fanfare. At first it was a little bit of a whining. Not serious, but it was there. Later it turned into a mild moaning, which must have increased in intensity over the years, because now it definitely is a very loud and constant screaming, with occasional hazardous chokes and seizures.
What happened in all those years? I don’t really know. Maybe I got distracted by all those knee operations I went under, just to have all those loose cartilage pieces picked out, some of which were as big as your finger tip, and to screw in the remaining pieces, which were hanging loose off the bone. Argh, ok I am getting a bit onto the dark side. I really did not enjoy those days. After all, I was at the height of my teenage years, when all that really mattered were girls!
Now that I found my girl, and here I cannot resist throwing in that we just recently celebrated our 10th anniversary (not the marriage, that was just a party to acknowledge our commitment we already made 5 years before). So now that I found my girl, and my knees kept silence for just as long, I once again begin to listen in to the screaming and moaning of my spine. Though it is quite amazing how easily one can tune out those warning signals, as they become nothing but background noise.
On the other hand I do remember a few occasions in which my spine was hysterically screaming to the point that it almost chocked. And I choked with it. I clearly remember two times when all the sudden I was reminded of the fact that there actually is some quite sensitive stuff running in between the vertebra and the disks. It hurt as if a knife had struck my spine, and I fell to the ground like a bag of potatoes, after which I stayed in bed for two or three days, only to crawl out to the bathroom once or twice. Now, as I am tuning in again and am listening more to what is holding up my back, I more than not experience these small zaps, that for a moment let me relive those dreaded days in bed.
I have to be honest too. It is not just that I am a “grown up” now, who should know better, or that my life is finally in good hands. No, it is also because my dad is showing me in a very vivid way how bad things can get. He seems to have what I have, a spine with little backbone (Here I want to say hi to all those genes involved, and thank you!). It got so bad that after many years of weighting risks versus benefits, he finally said if he is to live another day he wants it to be without back pain. So he went under the knife, and to make a long story short he had to do it over a second time and now, more then a year after his first try he is with much struggle on the upslope.
One can only wonder what is in for me? To find out, I finally went to the doctor, had a few x-rays and a couple MRI’s too, just to find out… uhu, I also have “Degenerative Disk Disease”, just like my dad. Now it is official. What a surprise!
Here are a few illustrative snapshots: Spine XRay, Spine MRI 1, Spine MRI 2