It's been more than a year since I wrenched my back trying to pick up my gigantic (20-pound) baby and all his baby gear at once, and I still hurt. A lot. At first, I tried to ignore it, thinking it was an ordinary strained muscle, nothing a lot of rest and ibuprofen wouldn't fix. Enhh, wrong answer. Then I went to the doctor, got momentarily distracted by a huge, ugly, infected cyst growing out of my chest, had it removed, went back to the doctor, got shunted around to physical therapy, orthopedic specialists, x-rays, MRIs, etc., all of which actually made the pain worse.
The diagnosis: at least one dessicated disc in the lower lumbar area, plus a high likelihood of nerve damage from that @$(&@ spinal injection I got just before delivering Mondo Baby. Prognosis: chronic excruciating pain, possibly for the rest of my life. Recommended treatment: You're on your own, kid. Try losing some weight to take the pressure off your back.
Well, yeah. Trying to lose weight after Son 2 was how I ended up with this rotten case of plantar fasciitis (3.5 years and holding, going for the new record). So I'll wear better shoes next time-- but there won't be a next time. I walk on knives every day; I'm not about to start back on the 2-mile strolls with the kids. And I can't bend at the waist without aggravating the back pain. I have to limit myself to about 3 times a day, preferably far apart, including once to put on my shoes in the morning. This explains why my house is a complete wreck: I have to clean with my toes.
I tried chiropractic this past fall and got some relief, but mostly, it hurt enough to make me cry. Apparently, the doc gets that a lot; he'd monitor my progress by how many times I cursed him afterward. Time to change clinics. Massage, though, that works nice. And oh, the opportunity to lie on my face for half an hour with soft music playing (and no kids screaming) in the background, guilt-free... It's so worth the price of admission.