This is how bad the spasm was in my lower back: I put my rolling pin on the floor and rolled around until I had hit every seized-up ligament. It's the only thing that has given me any relief in over two weeks.

I've got some orthopedic structural issues that make it likely that I'll have back pain until I drop. I'm okay with that. On the scale of nasty-ass life-altering degenerative processes, this is peanuts.

However, I continue to pursue both professional and home-based therapies. Professional includes an LMP who uses active release techniques, an LMP who does whole-body, get-your-toxins-moving-out massage, and a third LMP who delights in my requests for deep pressure and endorphin release (he's the only one who discusses South Park with me and gets to call me bee-yotch).

Home-based includes sneaking Robaxin and 222s home from Canada, eucalyptus baths (hot, hot, hot), ibuprofen, stretches, yoga, crunches, self-love (if you don't love yourself, how can you love your back pain?), breathing, and rolling the rolling pin under every tight spot.

'Pain is cleansing,' she reminded herself, as yet another new prominence was found along the top of her left hip.
'Yes, I can see that pain is my friend.'

I've got an appointment with sadistic massage boy on January 8th. Until then, it's you and me, rolling pin and Robaxin. Mommy's gonna go to bed where, if she's lucky, she won't have the temptation of combining drug therapy with the operation of any heavy machinery.