Oh, my back

So sometimes I get a back ache. A muscle spasm, or my back is "out" or whatever actually happens, I don't know. But I know it gets my complete attention. It's usually in my neck but this time it's right smack in the middle of my back. I don't know why, but man, oh man do I know when. For anybody that's ever had your back do that horribly annoying tweak right in the middle of what is usually normal, safe activity you know what I mean. You're bending or reaching or turning or lifting or simply looking over your shoulder and all of a sudden you come to a dead stop and you would give a week's pay to be able to go back 30 seconds and not do whatever it is that you just did. (That's actually a good way to guage the pain. If you say to yourself "I'd give a week's pay" that's not nearly as bad as if you offer up "my life's savings" or even the always handy "million dollars"--you don't just bounce back from that kind of pain...)
So there I was, pushing some boxes across the floor that need to go upstairs and wham! it hit me. I stayed still for a moment hoping it was a mistake and my back was really fine. Then I tried to trade my paycheck to rewind my life. Then I stayed still for a moment longer hoping I didn't ever have to move again. Eventually I hobbled over to the couch and after about 5 minutes decided I was done for the day and headed upstairs to bed. Now here's the tricky part. Finding a comfortable way to lay down. The problem is, when you find a position that doesn't hurt it's like finding a little piece of heaven and you want to stay there forever. But usually your back is the only thing that is comfortable at that point. I had slowly lowered myself to sit on the edge of the bed, one foot was on the floor, one foot stuck out at about a 45 degree angle trying to stabalize my weight, one hand reaching back in an effort to ease myself down and one hand holding onto Jorgie for dear life using her as an anchor to slow my descent and I must have hunched one shoulder just right because all of a sudden, Ahhhhh...there was no pain. I enjoyed it for several moments and then started to realize I wasn't going to maintain that for very long. My elbow started to tremble, one leg was shaking, the other started cramping up and Jorgie was licking the sweat dripping off my brow before I finally gave in and collapsed in a huddle of resurfaced back pain.
This morning I tried to talk Michael into getting out of his crib by himself, walking downstairs and making his own bottle, but he just looked at me with those big, trusting eyes telling me he knew I'd suffer 1000 times worse pain before I'd ever let him fall down the stairs. So we just took it one step at a time. Balance. Take a step. Repeat. All the way down the narrow, steep, rail-less stairs. And success (despite the "help" from the cat).
Driving to work was probably the last straw. When I had to make a conscious decision about whether I was willing to look both ways at the train tracks I knew I should be home in bed. My mental conversation went something like this, "Well, it hurts to turn and look. But being hit by a train would hurt a lot more. But what are the odds of a train coming right now of all times? I'm not sure I'm willing to take that bet..."