Monday, March 3, 2014

Om not sure this is helping

Despite over 14 years of living with this back pain thing, I seem to still be looking for that magic solution that will take a good chunk of the pain away. I pat myself on my tender back for not thinking something on QVC will cure me entirely.

I've tried shoes (Sketcher Shape-Ups = BAD).
I've tried mattresses (Sleep Number = GOOD).
I've tried ointments (Icy Hot, Arnica, Salonpas, essential oils = EH).
I've tried pillows and cushions (vibratey thing at the Fair = BAD; expensive wedge for under my knees = GOOD).
I've tried therapies (acupuncture = GOOD; hypnosis = EH; massage = eye-crossingly BAD).
I've tried exercises (Tai Chi = BAD; elliptical machine = GOOD).

I have wondered if meditation might help; you know, something to help calm my head and be the antidote to the venom that often spews in there when I am in heightened pain. I have dutifully purchased books and DVDs and asked people for guidance and suggestions. But I just can't seem to get motivated to give meditation an honest go.

I know a lot of people meditate as a part of yoga. I tried yoga once, back in the '90s. It was one of those videotapes by Rodney Yee. He had credibility because he was on Oprah and I was on pain meds. It was a yoga practice specifically designed for people with back issues. At least that's how I interpreted the description. I tried it one day and put the tape in the Goodwill pile the next. I guess Rodney wanted to help strengthen healthy backs, not modify poses to help compromised ones. So I crossed yoga off the list forever more. Until January.

The class is called "Therapeutic Yoga for Neck/Shoulder/Back/Knee Issues" and is described as "...providing adaptations and modifications of the poses for those dealing with developmental, structural, and chronic/acute issues related to the spine and musculature. Designed for adults and seniors wanting to balance spinal alignment, reduce tension in the muscles, joints, and ligaments..."

It sounded perfect! Perhaps get some gentle stretching while learning how to quiet my head. It meets on Friday afternoons for 10 weeks. I have three classes left.

I am trying very hard not to judge all yoga classes and instructors by this experience, but I have to admit I am disappointed. I keep hoping the class will be more beneficial but each week I leave counting the number of sessions I have left.

My biggest disappointment is that although the class was described as being one for people with chronic pain issues, the instructor seems to be oblivious to this fact.

Much to everyone's surprise, this class includes a lot of lecturing. So we spend quite a bit of time sitting on thin mats on a wooden dance floor listening to the instructor describe movements, discuss yoga philosophy, and share spiritual insights. Several of us have rebelled and move to padded folding chairs when it seems like we will be listening for a spell.

After the first class, Barbara asked how we were all doing. One person noted he was pretty sore. Lots of heads nodded.

"Sore? Really? Who else is sore from last week?"

Every single hand went up. Naturally. This is a class of 15 people (now down to about 8) who have daily pain. We are sore, a lot. Try something new and we expect to be even more so. None of us were surprised we hurt. None except the instructor, who is trained to help pained people.

Last week Barbara was talking about the large therapy balls that are used in gym and physical therapy programs. I use one as a chair if I have to sit at a desk. Barbara asked if anyone had ever sat on one of the balls. Again every single hand went up. Because, well, we all have chronic pain and have been in physical therapy any number of times. Barbara was amazed. Huh?

A couple of weeks ago, one woman was having trouble bending at her hips, even while sitting. Barbara asked if the woman knew why she was having trouble.

"My gall bladder. I have gall bladder problems."

According to Barbara, the woman's troubles were much deeper than that. Barbara used this as a teaching moment to share with us how pain needs to be healed from within. It turns out the gall bladder does not contain bile. No. It contains repressed anger. And so the classmate, according to Barbara, needs to spend some time addressing her anger issues and then she will be able to bend at her hips.

The woman missed last week's class. She was in the hospital, presumably having her repressed anger removed.

I totally agree that there are psychological components to pain; indeed, that is why I want to learn how to meditate so that I can better calm and address those parts. However, Barbara's comments left the impression that essentially a lot of our pain is in our heads. A later discourse on lower back pain really being the fear of not being good enough was interesting but truly, I have x-rays and MRIs that would suggest other fundamental sources.

I am not discounting Barbara's premise of the mind-body connection. I am just questioning the way she presented it to a room filled with people with aches, pains, surgical scars, and titanium implants.

I had really hoped I would find peace and deep breathing and connection at this yoga class. I have not. I am grateful, though, that I have discovered that my body can do more than I thought it could. With gentleness and patience, it has worked with me instead of against me and has taught me it is stronger and more flexible than I realized. I am not sure if I am going to give yoga another try with a different instructor, or if twice is enough.

Any thoughts on alternative uses for a snazzy new yoga mat?

I'm pretty sure this is good enough.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Thank you for this piece, Toni. Hugs from my heart to yours. Or...does the heart contain something other than blood, the essence of life? Perhaps repressed fear?? ;)