Midlife Health: My Lower Back Fusion Surgery Story Begins

I’ve had back pain for a few years now. I’m over 50, so I assumed it was just age-related, in addition to extra weight and bad luck. About 14% of adults aged 45–64 suffer from chronic back pain, and as you get older, the rates increase, so it was a fair guess. Thing is, I lost 40 pounds, got in much better shape, continued to eat clean, even became a vegetarian…and there it was, still hurting. Finally, I got into a renowned spinal surgeon, and that’s where my lower back fusion surgery story begins.

Getting the process going can take some time, so my first tip if you’re suffering from miserable back pain is this: don’t procrastinate. Find a good doctor (spinal surgeon, back doctor, and some people see neurologists) and make that appointment. If you require a referral from your PCP, don’t downplay your pain; you want the referral to happen quickly. Some doctors are booked weeks or months out. Once you are an established patient, you typically will find it easier to make an appointment, but even then, there can be delays. (See above about the number of people suffering with back pain!)

I chose a highly recommended spinal surgeon about 40 miles away. It’s further than I would have liked, but I didn’t think I’d be going to see him that often. I figured I’d get a referral to PT (physical therapy) and be fine — and I did get that. I tried PT, then we moved on to steroid shots/nerve blocks. Short-term results were good, but the improvement didn’t last long. I dealt with the pain, finished PT, started doing yoga (minus the forward-folds, per the doctor’s recommendation) and then one day I was walking through Trader Joe’s and almost fell to the floor when I got this terrible pain in my low back. (To be fully transparent, the pain was deep in my buttocks; it felt like it was where the pelvic bones all met in my back at the base of my spine, but for the sake of not saying buttocks all the time, we’ll call it my lower back.)

The shooting pain feels like someone was pushing a hot poker onto my nerves. It takes my breath away, and feels like everything’s squeezing up and pinching. I’ve had babies and kidney stones and I’m not a wimp, but I was concerned how I’d make it to the car. In all honesty, I considered leaving my cart and crawling to my car. Dignity though — and needing the produce for dinner — meant I didn’t do that.

I reached out to my doctor’s office and they squeezed me in for a quick consult, where my doctor ordered an urgent MRI and told me he’d get me right in after. Fast-forward a couple of weeks, I made the 2-hour-plus drive (in California freeway traffic) and almost didn’t make it into the building; the valet had been removed the week prior, and I had to park in the structure next door…which is half a block away and up a couple of floors. When you’re in extreme pain, small distances feel like miles.

In short, my MRI shows a growing cyst that’s pushing nerves and everything out of place resulting in a diagnosis of ‘severe spinal stenosis’ and a few other terms I don’t need to bore you with. The disc is beyond herniated and nerves are being pinched every which way. (That last part is layman’s terms, not a direct quote from my MRI report or the doctor, in case you wondered. 😂)

There are also a few other things they found, which would have likely resulted in a laminectomy at some point anyway, but with the cyst, the laminectomy is more urgent now, and unfortunately, one the surgeon gets in there and cleans it all up, it’s likely he’ll need to do a fusion with a bone graft and ‘pedicle’ screws.

I also learned that the pain is a combo from the nerves misfiring, and the muscles around them all clenching, or spasming, so bad in response. I’ve never felt anything like it, and it can be so bad, I can’t move. There are times, more than I care to admit, that I’ve been halfway across the room, or halfway out of the shower, that the pain is so bad, I’m not sure I can take the next step. It’s embarrassing when it’s in public, and if you happen to do it when you’ve got a cocktail in your hand or you’re stepping away from a restaurant table, you can feel the ‘is she drunk?’ vibes. It sucks.

This surgery has varying recovery times, depending on a few different things, but it will likely mean a 6-8 week period of no BLT, or bending-lifting-twisting. I’ll be hospitalized for around three days, and the paperwork mentions a back brace and a walker both inpatient and upon release. While in the hospital, they’ll be showing me how to function at home, including walking up some steps, and how to get out of bed properly, in some PT sessions. Release depends on oral pain management, ability to take short walks, and using the restroom.

Once I’m released home, I’ll be sleeping in a recliner downstairs for 1-2 weeks, depending on pain level and ability to move around. We’ll be making modifications to the restroom, such as a bidet and a toilet-riser with handles. (Don’t ask about the bidet reason, I don’t even want to know.) I’ll be snuggling in with a bunch of pillows and pain meds on the couch, right next to the pups, since the recliner’s a two-seater purchased with them in mind.

It doesn’t sound like I’ll be doing much for a couple of weeks beyond reading and watching TV. I’ll be taking two weeks off from client work, and I’m hopeful all my clients will be understanding. As a business owner, no work = no pay. (The idea that I pay 31%+ of my income in taxes and don’t get temporary disability without paying towards an extra policy is nuts.)

It all is a bit overwhelming, tbh. I want and need my mobility back. I want to do yoga without severe modifications, I want to wander Disneyland without stopping every few feet, and I want to travel without leaving out the adventure. I ski, I hike, I pick up my grandkids. I can’t do anything of these things right now and I’m way too young to be incapacitated, but the idea of having them cut into my back is scary.

And while lower back fusion surgery is going to be painful, it’s also a mental health thing. It’s also taking a big chunk of my social life away, both now and later, and that’s hard. The pain in my back is so sharp and sudden that sometimes I make an audible sound…and sometimes it sounds like a grunt. It makes people uncomfortable, and it’s super awkward for me because it’s not like I want to make the sound. I still try to go places, but I do it around people who are supportive or around strangers who aren’t even looking at me. I pick and choose my activities so carefully, but I’m also feeling the need to do all the things now because I won’t be able to do them for quite a while.

It’s a hard balance between not overdoing it — which I did on Christmas eve, and paid for it later — and having some social activity so I’m not stuck home ever more than I need to be.

I want and need to stay positive throughout all of this. I’m okay with the idea of being homebound for a while; my house is comfortable, we’re prepping all my gear in advance, and it’s the time of year where it feels okay to stay inside more. I have hopes of being able to get a lot of writing done, to do some painting (watercolors, on a lap desk) and do slow bouts of activity around the house. I will miss Disney though, winery visits, and just hanging out with my friends, having cocktails, playing games, and even random shopping trips. I’ll welcome streaming suggestions, book recommendations, and virtual check-ins.

I want to not get bummed at pain, because I need to expect it, or the inability to be up as I’d like…or the need for a walker and someone having to help me bathe and wash my hair. It’s a lot to think about. I’m not one to ask for help, and I don’t like being the center of attention. This is all going to be a learning experience. I’m not entirely sure of what yet, but something. I’d like this down time to be about more than just fixing my body.

Step one in the process has been to get another nerve block done. It’s a temp fix, kind of like an internal bandaid. I had it done on Friday morning at the facility in Pasadena. Had to be there at 7am, so traffic was easy. Checked in right away, and was number two on the doctor’s list for the day. By 8:00am, I was done and waiting on my legs to cooperate so I could head home. My left leg decided that it liked to wobble, so it took a bit longer, but once I was able to go back and forth across the recovery room without leaning, I was released. The hubs drove, huge perk, because the car was literally right in front of the exit in the loading/unloading zone so I had just steps to walk.

Getting a nerve block is no joke, but it’s also not a big deal. It’s done in a surgical center, complete with serious paperwork, no eating after midnight, and getting gowned up. You also get these fancy wristbands if you’re allergic to anything or if they score you as a fall risk — which I was, due to my instability with the nerve pain.

I’ll share about that in a later post, because I get asked a lot of questions, and since one of them is “why aren’t you on social media as much?” I decided that instead of hiding and using old photos (which implies they’re occurring now, so I’d clarify) I’d be transparent. People face health issues, and sometimes we can learn from each other if we’re going to go through something, too.

I will say that I joined a few Facebook groups for back surgery and I lasted 3-4 days. So many stories, I couldn’t handle it, but I did learn a lot of tips about gear and recovery. They’re all snoozed now for later use if necessary. Know your limits, and don’t push yourself. It can mess with your head.

A laminectomy or a lower back fusion, or both, may not be the most serious thing to someone else, but it’s okay if it IS the most serious thing to you. It’s okay to take the time to research, prepare, and give it your all so you’re in the right space for recovery and healing.

If my socials look less active, now you know why. Stay on top of your health, ladies. It’s easier to fix something if you learn in advance.