Because the tulips are by the front door, and it's the extent of my mobility at the moment. I can take a Daily Photo in 30 seconds, and keep from breaking the series.
I am limited by another back problem, one which has left me alarmingly disabled. This time it's my upper back, with sharp, severe pain down my right arm. For five nights I could barely sleep from the pain.
It all started with my last deadline for final files for a client. 2500 images, processed in two long days. I felt my back be tweaky, as usual, after such long, uninterrupted hours at the computer. But then, the pain got worse. A lot worse.
I've been treating it with chiropractic (which made it worse), with acupuncture (which did nothing), with cranial-sacral (which helped for a few hours), with massage, with crying jags, with nutritional supplements, with heavy narcotics (which made me sick as a dog—you don't want details). Finally, my doctor prescribed Valium, which relaxed the muscles enough that a physical therapist could manipulate my spine to give me, at last, some profound relief. For the first time in five days, there was no neuropathic pain in my arm. Robin likes me on Valium. I'm much less anxious. “It looks good on you,” she says.
A CT scan showed three vertebrae with alarmingly little room between them. I have a diagnosis now: moderate to severe disk degeneration in my spine between C-6 and T-1. Now, my neck has been hurting me for 30 years, ever since I regularly rode my bicycle across the country and back, in my twenties. Add to it a 30 year career of looping heavier and heavier camera bodies across my C-6 to T-1 vertebrae, and I have done some serious damage to my body. My profession has physically hurt me.
My brilliant PT says it will be a long road to full recovery, but she's confident that she can get me in good enough shape to finish out my busy spring season. Although I had been complaining about the 2 week interval without work that I found myself in right now, it couldn't have come at a better time.
A spine specialist looked at me and the scans, and said, “You're exactly on track for recovery. In fact, you're a lot better than most people in this situation.” He credits all the alternative therapies I've been pursuing. I credit it with being an entitled, middle class, educated health care consumer who can afford good health insurance. I'm one of the lucky ones. Most people don't get this standard of care, and it's not right.
What it will ultimately mean is a change in a lot of my habits. I suspect I can never again carry a camera around my neck—it'll have to go elsewhere. I've hired someone to make my workstation ergonomically correct. I'm looking at outsourcing my RAW processing, and figuring out if that can work in my business model. My digital fees fund the purchase of my computer workstations and peripherals, and I would need to replace that income stream. But if someone else is processing my files, perhaps I get to spend more time in the field, where the fun is.
You have my complete sympathy! I had to back off how much equipment I carried a couple of years ago, but because of angina. OTOH, I have always been an amateur and not professional photographer, so I've never carried as much as I see some pros carry.
I had emergency cardiac bypass surgery last week. While recovery from that is going well, an old problem of bleeding in my right eye has recurred. The prognosis is unknown and has me contemplating the role of photography in my life. If vision in the right eye does not recover, I certainly cannot continue photography in the manner I have all my life. At the moment, I am just resting in the possibilities--everything from selling off all the equipment through finding a totally different photographic expresssion to finding a way to continue those aspects of photography I love best. I am trying to look at this is a great opportunity for development and exploration rather than as potential loss.
Posted by: Guy Scharf | April 17, 2008 at 05:26 PM
I am completely in awe of your equanimity in the face of a far more serious health crisis. I was in a vicious emotional spiral about whether I was still going to be able to have a career that I dearly love, yet in all likelihood I was going to recover quickly. The part of me in pain didn't know that at the time however. Thank you for putting a different perspective on this.
Posted by: Doug Plummer | April 17, 2008 at 05:40 PM
Doug, that totally sucks, I'm sorry. (Says the guy whose hamstrings, IT bands, and hip flexors are locking into a sitting position).
If you're shooting 35mm, some gear suggestions for getting the stuff off your neck (or one shoulder, which I had to do: ditch the Domke) are Kinesis belt system and the Newswear chestvest.
I've got a few suggestions for RAW processing people here in Seattle. I've worked with the first two and will vouch for skilled, hard work but just met the third a couple weeks ago and haven't worked with her.
http://jillghardy.com
http://andrewhida.com
http://StephanieHansen.net
Check 'em out, hope it helps.
tim matsui
Posted by: Tim Matsui | April 19, 2008 at 10:56 AM
So sorry to hear about this Doug! (just read your ASMP email). I literally feel your pain... I'm only 29 and can't carry cameras around my neck anymore. I guess on the flip side, there has been many many new industries pop up to help out the digital photographer, from ergonomic products to post processing to workflow and computer systems consultants. Best of luck and lets all get better soon so we can go out and SHOOT MORE! After all, that's what "photographers" are supposed to do, eh? ;)
Posted by: Laurel McConnell | April 19, 2008 at 12:33 PM
Oy! I, too, can literally feel your pain -- some days more than others. I have a 30 year old fusion from T4-L3 and a subsequent injury to L5-S1 and more degeneration above and below. That's actually what got me back to doing photography... I became too disabled to work in my former field - ophthalmology.
Sounds like you're on the right track with the physical therapist -- having one who understands a /your/ physical demand is absolutely key for long term successful rehab. My PT has also been wondrous in suggesting things ergonomics-wise. He is certainly better than the 'industrial hygienists' I've had occasion to work with professionally.
I have to say the Relax the Back Store has gotten huge chunks of hard earned change from me over the years, too. The obvious things, like an Aeron chair (worth every cent, IMO) and a desk *built to fit* (try Underhill's), a chest-vest and a 'swiss army' type wheeled bag go without saying. Something less obvious would be a "Zero-G" recliner and either a tilt-top table (which is next to me and I can park the keyboard for my desktop or my laptop) or an adjustable angle lap desk (from which I am writing now). There is likely going to be times when even sitting in the Aeron isn't going to do it. The Z-G recliners have perfect physical geometry to distribute your body loading from feet to neck. After my last 'invasive' back surgery I literally lived in one for about a month because I couldn't sit upright, nor could I lay down. I highly recommend the electrically adjustable one for home, but also have, most wonderful things, a 'lawn chair' version made by LaFuma which has the same geometry and folds comfortably into the trunk of a smallish car to have a 'body neutral' place to rest when you're out and about. I could go on (and on and on, I'm told) but working with my physical therapist and getting a variety of body neutral seating options has been more beneficial than any other 'ergo-centric' suggestions I've encountered yet.
Well Wishes!!
Posted by: Robbie Mander | April 20, 2008 at 02:14 AM
Boy, have I been hearing the war stories! Some of you have really suffered. I am gradually improving, too gradually for my taste, but I'm an impatient sort. Right now I'm on Valium and Prednesone, the latter is strictly stopgap, since it'll wreck my adrenals if I'm on it for more than a week. But it nails the inflammation. Any NSAIDs make me sick.
My first lifestyle change is giving up the morning newspaper. It's always been a ritual to catch up on the doings of the world for an hour first thing. But I can't be sedentary in the morning anymore. Now I get up, and go walking. As I learn what I ought to be doing, I'll probably become one of those people who have to do an hour of bodywork before anything else in the day starts.
Posted by: Doug Plummer | April 20, 2008 at 11:34 AM