It feels like we’ve dodged what could have been a grim bullet.
Still, the last few weeks have been menacing enough. Three days into January, my college son clocked out of his last day of work, excited for plans to head out the next day and start classes at the university.
Driving home, a dull pain in his back grew worse and worse and by the time he got home, he was in searing pain. He couldn’t sit, laying down was out of the question and walking was excruciating.
I grabbed my keys, made phone calls to cover my younger kids and drove him as gingerly as possible to the ER. We were sent home with pain medication and the advice to follow with our primary.
Maybe it was a terrible muscle spasm from those 3 hours of basketball the night before? Maybe his golf swing was way off or, more likely, he had a herniated disc that would need some good physical therapy.
An early Saturday morning call brought news: he had a lemon-sized tumor on his lower spine.