#lumbarpain — Public Fediverse posts

France Diary Summer 2026 #10: Back

Ah, the mysteries of the lumbar region. Lumbago: sounds like a recreational vehicle. If you’d asked me what caused my current attack of acute lower back pain, I might have joked that the immediate cause seemed to be the Guardian Quick Crossword on Saturday morning.

I’d got up, as usual, taken my pill, got into my cycling gear in preparation for an early ride. My OH had decided that Saturday was pruning/trimming day, but I had independently decided I was going on a ride. On my return, I was to do the hedges with the Hedge Trimmer of Unknown Provenance that lives in the barn.

So, as usual, I sat down with my breakfast and did the Quick. It’s a daily test of brain fog, I reckon. If I have not had enough calories, I might struggle more than usual. I know I had to reveal the word HOTELIER, so that wasn’t good.

And I got up from the table and—that was it. Immobilised. I always think of the Christmas Carol Goes Wrong by the Mischief Theatre Company, and the line: “OH NO! HE’S COMPLETELY INCAPACITATED!”

I was doubled over, couldn’t straighten up. The cause? Who knows. I moved four heavy slabs on Friday morning, so maybe a 24-hours-later delayed reaction? Otherwise, I’m stumped.

A sensible person would have cancelled the bike ride. Why didn’t I? Well, reader, there was method in the madness. In the past, I have experienced sciatic pain and have actually fixed it by going on a ride. The pressure from the saddle is perfect—better than the tennis ball method.

So I tried the ride. Getting on the bike: agony. Getting off the bike: agony. Pausing on the bike to take a photo: agony. But actually pedalling and sitting on the saddle? Fine.

Still, in the end, probably not the greatest idea I ever had.

And when I got home, still hobbling, the hedge trimmer was waiting for me. I cannot tell you how much pain I was in then. But the politics of marriage dictate that you cannot go for a bike ride and then refuse to operate a hedge trimmer.

So I did that until I could do no more and then I took to my bed for the rest of the day. And yesterday, although the pain had eased somewhat, I didn’t move very much. This morning? Still some pain, but I have more movement, and I am going for a gentle walk (as gentle as it gets around here) to try to unkink.

France Diary Summer 2026 #10: Back

Ah, the mysteries of the lumbar region. Lumbago: sounds like a recreational vehicle. If you’d asked me what caused my current attack of acute lower back pain, I might have joked that the immediate cause seemed to be the Guardian Quick Crossword on Saturday morning.

I’d got up, as usual, taken my pill, got into my cycling gear in preparation for an early ride. My OH had decided that Saturday was pruning/trimming day, but I had independently decided I was going on a ride. On my return, I was to do the hedges with the Hedge Trimmer of Unknown Provenance that lives in the barn.

So, as usual, I sat down with my breakfast and did the Quick. It’s a daily test of brain fog, I reckon. If I have not had enough calories, I might struggle more than usual. I know I had to reveal the word HOTELIER, so that wasn’t good.

And I got up from the table and—that was it. Immobilised. I always think of the Christmas Carol Goes Wrong by the Mischief Theatre Company, and the line: “OH NO! HE’S COMPLETELY INCAPACITATED!”

I was doubled over, couldn’t straighten up. The cause? Who knows. I moved four heavy slabs on Friday morning, so maybe a 24-hours-later delayed reaction? Otherwise, I’m stumped.

A sensible person would have cancelled the bike ride. Why didn’t I? Well, reader, there was method in the madness. In the past, I have experienced sciatic pain and have actually fixed it by going on a ride. The pressure from the saddle is perfect—better than the tennis ball method.

So I tried the ride. Getting on the bike: agony. Getting off the bike: agony. Pausing on the bike to take a photo: agony. But actually pedalling and sitting on the saddle? Fine.

Still, in the end, probably not the greatest idea I ever had.

And when I got home, still hobbling, the hedge trimmer was waiting for me. I cannot tell you how much pain I was in then. But the politics of marriage dictate that you cannot go for a bike ride and then refuse to operate a hedge trimmer.

So I did that until I could do no more and then I took to my bed for the rest of the day. And yesterday, although the pain had eased somewhat, I didn’t move very much. This morning? Still some pain, but I have more movement, and I am going for a gentle walk (as gentle as it gets around here) to try to unkink.

France Diary Summer 2026 #10: Back

Ah, the mysteries of the lumbar region. Lumbago: sounds like a recreational vehicle. If you’d asked me what caused my current attack of acute lower back pain, I might have joked that the immediate cause seemed to be the Guardian Quick Crossword on Saturday morning.

I’d got up, as usual, taken my pill, got into my cycling gear in preparation for an early ride. My OH had decided that Saturday was pruning/trimming day, but I had independently decided I was going on a ride. On my return, I was to do the hedges with the Hedge Trimmer of Unknown Provenance that lives in the barn.

So, as usual, I sat down with my breakfast and did the Quick. It’s a daily test of brain fog, I reckon. If I have not had enough calories, I might struggle more than usual. I know I had to reveal the word HOTELIER, so that wasn’t good.

And I got up from the table and—that was it. Immobilised. I always think of the Christmas Carol Goes Wrong by the Mischief Theatre Company, and the line: “OH NO! HE’S COMPLETELY INCAPACITATED!”

I was doubled over, couldn’t straighten up. The cause? Who knows. I moved four heavy slabs on Friday morning, so maybe a 24-hours-later delayed reaction? Otherwise, I’m stumped.

A sensible person would have cancelled the bike ride. Why didn’t I? Well, reader, there was method in the madness. In the past, I have experienced sciatic pain and have actually fixed it by going on a ride. The pressure from the saddle is perfect—better than the tennis ball method.

So I tried the ride. Getting on the bike: agony. Getting off the bike: agony. Pausing on the bike to take a photo: agony. But actually pedalling and sitting on the saddle? Fine.

Still, in the end, probably not the greatest idea I ever had.

And when I got home, still hobbling, the hedge trimmer was waiting for me. I cannot tell you how much pain I was in then. But the politics of marriage dictate that you cannot go for a bike ride and then refuse to operate a hedge trimmer.

So I did that until I could do no more and then I took to my bed for the rest of the day. And yesterday, although the pain had eased somewhat, I didn’t move very much. This morning? Still some pain, but I have more movement, and I am going for a gentle walk (as gentle as it gets around here) to try to unkink.