How's Your Back?

Tip O’Neill, the legendary former Speaker of the House, regularly observed that all politics is local. So aptly enough, when shaking hands with constituents at home, he would always ask, “How’s your back?” calculating that half the world suffered from periodic back pain.

That includes me now since crossing into my sixties. It does not happen a lot, but it comes with no warning and as a result of the smallest infraction, such as bending to fetch a carrot from the refrigerator, using a trowel to dig a hole for bulbs, exiting the car.

Two weeks ago, I was putting our twenty-eight-pound puppy into the truck—as I have done repeatedly since his arrival in April—when I felt the spring go. A day or so later, I thought I was better enough to take a shovel and plant half a dozen Lilies of the Valley, and I felt another spring go. Maybe two. I let it rest for a week, popping Advil, until our three-year-old grandson came to visit over the past weekend. I was back to full strength, with just some lingering discomfort in the lower back after sitting for a long while, especially noticeable when driving. We had a lovely day around the property, down by the pond, hob-knobbing with loons, playing with the puppy, watching a nature film about snakes. We went for a walk down the driveway before dinner, which had been freshly raked by the orange tractor he had crawled on earlier. Halfway back, he asked to ride on my shoulders.

You can see it coming, me hiking the lad up over my head, who is heavier than the puppy but not heavier than the large bag of organic fertilizer I carry out of Agway on my shoulders. I saw it too. But I did the calculation quickly: do I lift the boy and carry him on my shoulders or say, sorry, Granddad has a bad back?

Every time I see him, I think he is an inch taller. That will include seeing him again next week if it happens. I will say to Marcia, good Lord, he’s an inch taller than last Saturday. It is a rate of growth in adverse proportion to the time I have left to carry him on my shoulders safely.

So up he went, fingers in my hair, drumming my forehead, tickling my ears, expounding on the world from new heights as one might from the top of Monadnock.

I was fine until about three hours later.

It turns out that everyone has an opinion on back pain. Why not? One out of two people are affected. Lie on a couch, lie on the floor, pillow, no pillow, use heat, then ice. Sit straight, feet flat. Lose weight (thanks, Mom). Hydrate. Work the core. Acupuncture. Chiropractor.

I am scrambling to apply these prescriptions. I have to be in shape for the end of the week because our granddaughter is arriving, and she wants to fish. She has been saying this since Christmas. That means digging for worms, getting in a canoe, paddling a canoe, casting, reaching with our nets for the fish we catch, removing hooks and releasing the fish, getting out of the canoe.

The lawn needs to be cut. It is growing furiously because of the rain (at last) and application of organic fertilizer. The peas are climbing and need more support, the lettuce and beets need thinning, another row of green beans should go in, my sister-in-law brought us some beautiful perennials, not all of which are in the ground, and the wood I split at the end of last month needs stacking.

My wife says stress is a factor. Does any of this sound stressful? It is not. Not in the least. That said, my go-to for stress is ice cream, which is pertinent: unlike most foods, you can eat it lying down (sorry, Mom).

Published in the Monadnock Ledger-Transcript, June 20, 2023