On March 19, 1982 I was having lunch with my Mom. When I stood from the table, the muscles in my back spasmed, contorting my spine, seizing my ability to breath, or stand straight, or find respite.

Thirty-nine years later, the spasms remain. They are my constant companion and relentless antagonist, 24-7, for 14,240 days and counting.

Five or six weeks ago the muscles in my cranky old back binged, contorting me, assaulting me, tormenting me. Standing in my underwear before the full-length mirror in Dianne’s closet, my posture resembles an ‘s’ and my torso is offset at my waist from my legs. My waist swells, making my pants and belt too tight.  

The pattern of the spasms is familiar—for a week or two. But in this episode, as the spasms burned themselves out, I noticed my left foot felt weird. Within an hour or so, my pain levels skyrocketed. I lost much of my left foot’s function. Soon, my left leg and hip were involved.

There was no relief—anywhere. I didn’t sleep for 96 hours, four nights. I’m grateful for my doctor friend Richard who got my pain under control.

Sciatica. Pinched nerve. Radiating pain.

X-rays. MRIs. Assessments.

“Let me see you walk,” the neurosurgeon said. “Now let me see you walk on your heels.” I failed both tests.

When I walk, my left foot splats. My left leg lifts awkwardly. My gait is irregular. As to the heel-walk, my right foot performed. My left remained on the floor.

It’s disconcerting to hear a doctor say “stat”—meaning, ASAP, right now. But by now, each medical person I’ve seen uses “stat.” Clearly, the pinch is pressing, time sensitive. No one offers even a guess whether my nerve will recover or not.

So, I’m on the fast track to surgery: Thursday, March 25, 2021, at 13:00 hours.

There are three things on my mind: First, I would appreciate it if you would discuss my situation with our heavenly Father. Please include my neurosurgeon, Dr. Siadati. His reputation is stellar, but I would appreciate your prayers on his behalf.

Second: If my back is as messed up as the tests reveal, then the doc will fuse my L4 and L5 vertebrae. I will be in a brace for three months and the doc does not want me sitting much, so my keyboard time will be limited. I’ll write you as I’m able.

Third: This area of my back— it’s about my belt line—has been the chief culprit of my pain for thirty-nine years. It would be wonderful if the surgery fixed whatever has kept that part of my back angry and punitive.

Take care and keep your wits about you. I’ll see you soon.

By the way, if you haven’t read Swagger: Keeping your wits when others are not, you can get a copy here. And if you like what you read, please enter a brief endorsement at Amazon, and pass the word