MARK MY WORD: LIFE SOMETIMJES CAN BE A PAIN IN THE BACK

Sometimes life can be a pain in the derriere. Lately, it's been a pain in the back for me.

About a month ago, I experienced back spasms, and later chest pains.

Thinking I was suffering a heart attack, I went to a local hospital emergency room where I was promptly ushered into a room where a blue-uniformed, male nurse greeted me with a clipboard.

If you work in an emergency room, you have to have a clipboard. Without it, you can't ask the patient what's wrong.

He preceded to ask me about my pain. After determining that I wasn't in good enough shape to ride a Six Flags roller coaster, I was directed to a cubicle and a clerk whose job was to determine if I was a paying patient.

After checking my health insurance card, she gave me some forms to sign. These hospital forms give doctors, nurses and anyone else present the right to perform major surgery and remove flat tires and any other broken down organs in your body.

They also get first crack at your bank account.

It wasn't long before they had me in an examining room, where I was checked out by more medical people.

One of the first things they did was take blood out of both my arms. After concluding that I did indeed have blood, they moved on to other tests.

After several hours, the ER doctor concluded my heart was fine and I didn't even have a flat tire.

I left the hospital still feeling like a human pretzel. I decided to consult another doctor.

This doctor knew I didn't want to be a pretzel. He prescribed some muscle relaxants and sent me to a physical therapist, who took one look at me and instantly knew I wasn't ready for hopscotch.

I've been to two therapists in recent weeks, who have treated my back to some stimulating electrical massage and plenty of exercises.

They've improved electrical massage a lot since Ben Franklin first flew a kite in the middle of an electrical storm.

I haven't worked out this much since I played on the jungle gym in elementary school.

As part of my therapy, I walk almost daily at the mall.

I've discovered there are plenty of people who walk at the mall, many of them senior citizens.

Some of them have turned the mall into their own Indy 500, zooming around the corridors with amazing speed.

They even manage to window shop without missing a stride.

I can't get the hang of that. When I turn my head to catch a glimpse of some merchandise as I walk by, it almost gives me whiplash.

Perhaps, the solution is to wear blinders like a horse. Just don't enter me in the Kentucky Derby.

At any rate, it sure beats being flat on my back at home on the living room floor.

I was sprawled on the floor for a few days after I first injured my back.

I spent a lot of time looking at the white ceiling, searching for spiders or any other signs of life.

It gave me a new outlook on life. I understand why Michelangelo painted all those figures on that church ceiling.

He wanted to provide something for back-pain sufferers to look at.

Unfortunately, today's houses just aren't made with back pain in mind.

In the future, I might just have to paint murals on my ceilings.

~Mark Bliss is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.