Homo Erectus

A very long time ago, in a college anthropology class I think, one of my teachers mentioned that the mammalian spine makes a perfect suspension bridge. And that the problems all started when we hominoids started walking upright.

I’d say that’s an understatement.

You could argue that this encompasses all manner of evil that Homo Erectus (and later, Homo Sapiens, although save for Leonardo Da Vinci and Benjamin Franklin I’ve seen little actual evidence that this species is any wiser) has perpetuated upon its brethren since it got up on its back legs and whacked the guy sitting next to him with a big stick.

But for the sake of blog space, I’m only talking about my own suspension bridge. And if it gets cranky at the idea of being a vertical column, it really, really doesn’t like being a horizontal one. This is my second day “up,” after another steroid injection and many, many structures, large and small, are telling me how much they didn’t like lying around doing nothing for four days.

“Cripes, you guys!” I tell them. “I’m moving, already. Enough, all right?”

But they still continue to remind me what a bad idea it had been.

This procedure, which was, according to the nurse, supposed to be “lots easier” than the first one (one injection versus three). But then I found out that it was only “lots easier” for the doctor. After waiting, prepped, on my stomach for, oh, 25 minutes or so (or enough to make my spinal facets knock into each other like so many incredibly painful dominoes), the doctor walked in, bitched at me for changing position (I was starting to black out from the pain, so I’d wriggled out of my blood pressure cuff and oxygen monitor and got on my side), and gave me one quick, deep jab near my sacroiliac, no local, then said, snidely, “Feel better.”

The bastard.

But that’s all behind me now (so to speak). The magic juice hasn’t kicked in yet, but I’ve done my sentence (the only thing saving my sanity through those long, dull days was an unabridged John Irving novel (‘Til I Find You) on CD…it’s quite good, and engrossing once you get into it, but I this has to win a prize for the most frequent usage of the word “penis.”).

And having had my suspension bridge horizontal for four and a half days, I now I have much more respect for the verticality of the human spine.

The problem is that the vertical design hasn’t taken into account the current version of Homo Sapiens’ lifestyle and life span.

Back when you were born as cheap labor, married at fourteen, had a bunch of your own cheap labor and died in your forties, I doubt that too many people suffered from disk problems or indeed back problems of any kind. (Possibly from diseases or from prolonged bed rest, but not much else) Physical labor and good nutrition kept your back muscles strong, and your spine straight and flexible.

Then, through medical miracles like penicillin and mammography, we began living longer. (Not that I’m complaining – I’m grateful for the invention of antibiotics, and if George Washington came back to life, he’d be SO pissed to learn that he’d died of a sore throat that could have been cured with a ten-day course of pills rather than a bunch of leeches.) And because of over-farming, our soil became depleted of nutrients. Then comes the introduction of the office chair, the couch and God save us, the television and the computer, and we no longer worked as hard. Our spine molded into whatever surface we poured it into. We slumped in poorly designed office furniture, we sat on our rumps for hours on end watching reruns of “I Dream of Jeannie” and playing “Pong.” (and boy, am I showing my age).

It’s no wonder that back pain is only beaten out by headaches as the number one reason people go to the doctor. You can sneeze and herniate a disk. (a woman once told me she’d actually done this)

And I don’t know if it’s my age or our current age, but I seem to be noticing Pain Management as a profession sprouting up everywhere – touted by leading doctors in books, clinics in every neighborhood, and this mysterious TV commercial pointing to a web site that will help me control my pain (sponsored by which pharmaceutical company, I wonder).

I don’t doubt that in a few hundred years, our spines will devolve until we can no longer stand upright without support.

And we will call this new species “Homo Viagrus.”

Kind of makes you want to sit up straight, doesn’t it?