Seems I was a little precipitate congratulating myself that my back had fully recovered and was no longer under duress as a result of the episode weeks ago at the dentist's when the reclining chair was tilted much too far in the wrong direction, leaving my head lower than my feet to an instantly uncomfortable degree that seemed to stretch my spine; a warning I failed to heed because it passed so quickly. Usually the dentist asks, once she adjusts the chair, whether I'm comfortable, but I don't recall hearing that this time. I would likely have said that I was perfectly comfortable since at that point the discomfort had swiftly disappeared.

 

Only when she was finished replacing a filling that had inconveniently failed a week earlier, and when the chair was adjusted to a normal seated position was I struck with the most painful reaction to my efforts to exit the chair. I was immediately arrested with the pain and was unable to move. She was alarmed and I wasn't much able to allay her concern since I was frozen with inaction, the overwhelming pain unlike anything I'd experienced before, kept me frozen. I said, I'd be all right in a minute.

 

 

Quite a few minutes passed, the pain eased and I was able to carefully begin moving to extricate myself from the chair and stand upright. With difficulty. But I was ambulatory, she walked me to the front desk, I paid my portion of the invoice, and left. Full mobility with a minimum of discomfort wasn't long in coming, but since that time I've had episodes of extreme lower back discomfort. Then I thought, a few days ago, aha! I hadn't even noticed, I've overcome it entirely.

 

 

But that night in the middle of our sleeping hours I awoke to excruciating pain and was unable to effect a position that would ease the pain. Eventually it subsided to a point where I was able to fall back to sleep, exhausted. In the morning after limbering up, assuming my usual daily routine I was fine. And then it was repeated the following night. Well, damn! 

 

 

I feel perfectly fine, able to do everything with no problem, that I usually do. Just a reminder here and there with these episodes that circumstances such as less elasticity with age and unforeseen stressors can play havoc. Then you wait, hoping it will be temporary, and usually it is. Yesterday I hauled about heavy containers of groceries as usual. I did some planting in the garden. We had our usual hour-and-a-half hike through the ravine. I prepared bread dough for a pizza we made together for dinner. All's well, she said unconvincingly to herself.

 

And today, another beautiful day. The dog days of summer are long gone. There's still some heat to be shared when the sun's fully high in the sky. The rains have stopped for the time being, and we've had moderate winds, making for quite lovely days. At night the temperature dips giving us cooling night-time breezes to waft through the bedroom window.

 

 

So we had a lovely amble with Jackie and Jillie through the forest trails today, just as we do every day. And just as generally happens each time we take ourselves out to the forest, familiar dogs present themselves for recognition as fans of the Cookie Man. Jackie and Jillie come back from our daily forays excited and more energetic than when we left, racing after one another, their little legs thundering through the upstairs in anticipation of their fresh vegetable salad, their very special afternoon treat.

 

And Irving and I settle down to read the newspapers, look through the mail, discuss dinner and have a peek at what's going on online.