دانلود کتاب به بدن خود توجه کنید -یک برنامه انقلابی برای رهایی از درد مزمن و اضطراب

My trip into the fire began young. At nineteen years old, I lay on the orthopedic surgeon’s table in mind-numbing pain and fear. The X-ray glowed on the screen while my mother wrung her hands beside me. We were awaiting a second opinion to explain my symptoms. My parents had taken me home from college a week before final exams when excruciating lower back pain prevented me from even walking to the bathroom, much less finishing my semester. “I’m in agreement,” the doctor said. “The diagnosis is spondylolisthesis, a degenerative condition of the lower spine. To avoid being in a wheelchair by forty, you will need to immediately stop several activities and accept certain realities. We will have to reevaluate what exercise looks like, and you certainly won’t be rollerblading.” Rollerblading was a daily form of transportation that was integral to my joy and mental wellness. It was the nineties, after all. At that moment, his words directly called into question my entire sense of identity as strong, fit, and free to do as I pleased. He went on. “It’s ill-advised to lift anything over twenty pounds or ride in a car for more than an hour. You’ll have to sleep in very specific positions to avoid pain and stabilize your back. Travel of any kind will need to be carefully considered from a risk/benefit analysis. Most importantly, you should come to terms with the fact that it’s unlikely you will carry a biological child. The weight of the baby could strain your back to the point of irreparable harm.” This last piece of news was too much to process. A life without the vibrant family I’d envisioned? Was that any life at all? Based on what he saw on my films, the doctor explained that spinal fusion surgery was the standard protocol. But since I was young and otherwise healthy, it could wait. If I was willing to follow the strict guidelines for sleeping, travel, and exercise, I could put off the surgery as long as possible. Recovery would entail weeks of downtime and decreased mobility for life. Awash in the overwhelm of this dark prognosis, I felt that only the present seemed real. Yet what mattered most in that moment was not being addressed. “Will the surgery eliminate my pain?” I asked in desperation. The tenor of the doctor’s energy shifted as he explained that the surgery carried no guarantee of pain cessation.