I had a bilateral hemilaminectomy in 2018.  No need to look it up, it is a type of back surgery.  Over the years, I experienced minor back pain, and would ice it, stretch, or refrain from the activity that caused the pain.  In 2002, my back seized while I was changing over the laundry, and it took my husband, dad, and grandpa to pick me up off the ground so they could get me to the emergency room.  That had been the worst pain I’d experienced in my life, childbirth withstanding, before July 30, 2018.

 I had begun a new exercise routine which included some activities I’d not done before.  I expected to have some sore muscles here and there since I was working out in a different way.  I was feeling really good about myself and what I was accomplishing in class, so when I felt a little discomfort in my back, I just figured I needed to do what I had always done and take it easy.

 I did my usual ice and stretch but I wanted to get back to the gym, afraid if I took too much time off, I’d have a hard time getting back into it.  Prior to this, I’d stuck with low impact cardio and yoga classes; modifying moves when needed, but the day I went back, I attended a HIIT class.  There were several stations around the room where you and a partner would take turns completing the specific exercise.  It was during this class when I finally pushed the limit.

 I left class that day in major pain but figured I just went back too soon.  The regular remedies barely made a dent on the pain and things like sleeping or getting dressed became very difficult.  I was still keeping my regular schedule, but it was taking me longer to get ready and the pain was slowing me down from completing some of the things that needed to be done.  I figured the doctor would prescribe me pain killers and muscle relaxers, which I couldn’t take if I was going to be driving or teaching and I had a contract to fulfill.  It was truly a point of surrender to call and make the appointment, literally lying on the ground, pulling myself to the bathroom to use the bathtub as leverage to help me get to my feet.

 At the visit, my doctor ordered an MRI and unfortunately due to insurance hang ups, it took over a month for it to get scheduled.  I spent that month in such immense pain, unable to find any comfort.  Even when I finally had the MRI, I cried because the pain was so bad while holding still as the images were scanned.  The entire process lasted 6 months, from injury on July 30th to surgery on October 29th and then 90 days of recovery.

 The first three months I spent a lot of time crying, feeling like a burden on my family, and that I was letting down the students in my class and the other people who counted on me at my job.  I had no answers, only questions and fear.  The MRI showed severe damage to my L4 and L5, to the point where I was experiencing atrophy and loss of sensation in my foot, which made walking a challenge at times.

 The last three months started the day of surgery.  I knew the moment I woke up in the recovery room that the surgery had been a success because the only pain I felt at that point was the pain from the incision; the pain in my back was gone.  As soon as I was discharged from the hospital I was supposed to get up and walk every day, beginning with a quarter of a mile and increasing by another quarter each week. 

 At the beginning, my steps were slow and measured, and always with the help of others until I was able to feel firm on my feet.  Over time, I became more confident but still cautious.  I thankfully had access to a treadmill, so I was able to continue my recovery on days when there was rain, ice, or snow in the forecast.  Still today, I am mindful of where I step when I walk, how I bend down to clean out the dishwasher or do my laundry, and how I get out of bed in the morning.

 The journey of going from severe pain and the possibility of never being able to participate in activities that I love such as hiking or biking, to recovery and now living in a climate that provides me ample opportunities to do those things regularly is a redemption story.  Through the pain, I had to let go and even in the recovery I had to surrender myself so others could take care of me, even to the point of needing someone else to wash my hair for me or to shave my legs.

 I say it is redemptive because I came out of a dark situation to walk in the light.  I am changed.  Changed by the pain, the unknown future, the kindness of others, and most of all the desire to not take anything for granted.  I was reminded that life is short, and it is meant to be lived; lived to the fullest with gratitude and humility.  Always allowing God to guide my steps and to stand firm in faith.

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