Eggs, Baskets, and Roller Coasters

When it comes to treating my chronic upper back pain, I have learned not to put my eggs in any baskets.  For nearly 20 years my back has hurt just about every day.  For over eight years I have been seeking help from medical professionals.  In the past two years, I have tried a couple of physical therapists, message therapy, anti-inflammatories, steroids, anesthetic patches, a TENS unit, cortisone injections, neck traction, shoe inserts, and a special diet.  Thus far the pain has remained pretty much unchanged: nagging, depressing, and often quite debilitating; like an abusive Siamese twin.

With every new doctor or physical therapist, I’ve ridden the same roller coaster of ups and downs.  On the first visit, we chat about my pain experiences, they look over my spine, they notice the slight curvature and uneven pelvis, they point out the protracted shoulder blades, and they come up with what seems like a very logical explanation for the pain and suggest what sounds like a very simple and achievable solution.

At first I’m super encouraged that “this one” truly understands me and I’ve finally found someone who can help.  I faithfully and zealously do my exercises, taking copious notes about all the nuances of my pain.  Weeks turn into months as I obsess over the details of my stretches and the location, intensity, and persistence of my pain.  But there is no change. 

This month, I started seeing another new physical therapist.  She’s got some serious credentials and a lot of expertise.  Talking to her, I can tell she really knows her stuff. She’s fascinated by my atypical symptoms and curvature, and she’s up for the challenge of finding a solution.  Could this be the one?

While she’s finding the same structural problems in my skeleton that previous doctors have seen, she’s suggesting a new plan of attack.  Her reasoning sounds entirely plausible.  Could she be the one?

Forgive me for lacking optimism.  Most of my eggs were shattered in previous baskets, so I’m leery of entrusting the remaining ones to any container, no matter how appealing it may be to do so.  I admit that this woman’s approach seems very promising.  And while I’m in her office being worked on, I feel like she’s making a difference.  But I also thought that I’d found the solution eight years ago at the first place I went to.  And it seemed that two years ago we were really on to something.  And last year’s cortisone injections seemed like a sure solution.  And everybody raves about those TENS devices.

I guess it’s just hard to fight the combined effect of disappointment and fear of more disappointment.  I want to be optimistic and hopeful.  But I’ve been let down so many times – abandoned and left with this abusive Siamese twin – that I simply can’t convince myself to expect anything good.

When I try to be optimistic, I only feel like I’m deceiving myself.  Like making a birthday wish you know will never come true, I just don’t have much hope in the power of optimism.  This time, this physical therapist may be able to help me.  But I won’t believe it for real until I see it for real.  Try as I may to muster up the positive vibes, I just can’t be sincere about it.  I’m keeping my eggs in my hands while I ride this roller coaster one more time.

We’ll see.  I’llkeep you posted.