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Learning to Hold My Head Up Again: Recovering from a C5 Fracture
A few weeks ago, life quite literally came to a screeching halt. One unlucky fall, and I was told I’d fractured my C5 vertebra – a stable fracture, thankfully, with no spinal cord involvement. The best kind of bad news.
The prescription? A rigid neck collar and strict instructions not to move my head for several weeks. Simple enough in theory. In practice? Let’s just say it’s been an education – especially when you’re 6’7″ and suddenly moving like a cautious giraffe trying not to alarm the herd.
Life Inside the Collar
The collar and I became inseparable. I wore it 24/7 – eating, sleeping, showering – basically living my best statue life. My world shrank to whatever I could see without turning my head. Looking down was out of the question; tying shoes required advanced planning and possibly a spotter.
Being tall added another layer of comedy. I already have to look down at most people, but in a neck collar, that wasn’t happening. Instead, I’d bend awkwardly at the waist, offering a polite, robot-like nod that probably looked more like a malfunctioning periscope.
The discomfort wasn’t terrible – no sharp pain, just tightness, stiffness, and a constant awareness of how fragile the neck really is. Still, the collar did its job beautifully. The bone stayed stable, and I learned a whole new kind of patience.
The “Bobble-Head” Phase
After three and a half weeks, I finally got permission to remove the collar for short periods. Freedom! Or so I thought. The moment it came off, my head felt like a ten-pound bowling ball balanced on a spring.
It’s incredible how quickly neck muscles forget their job. Every small movement felt exaggerated, and I found myself holding my head like it might roll off if I wasn’t careful. I started calling it my “bobble-head phase.”
This stage isn’t painful, just… weird. Your brain knows you’re fine, but your muscles are unconvinced. I’m relearning how to move naturally again – slowly, cautiously, and with plenty of self-reminders not to panic every time my head wobbles a little.
Enter: Evil Bone Water
Somewhere in the middle of all this, I discovered a homeopathic remedy with a name that sounds straight out of a fantasy novel: Evil Bone Water.
Despite the ominous title, it’s a traditional Chinese liniment made from herbs that help with inflammation, bruising, and muscle tension. I’ve been massaging a bit onto my neck and shoulders (carefully, of course), and it’s been surprisingly soothing – a warm, herbal relief for muscles that have spent weeks in lockdown.
Call it plant power, call it placebo – either way, it helps, and at this stage of recovery, I’ll take every bit of comfort I can get.
Moving Forward
Now, I’m focusing on gentle movement and regaining strength. The “bobble” is easing up as my muscles wake back up, and I’m learning to trust my neck again.
It’s a humbling process – slow, steady, and full of small wins. I’ve learned that recovery isn’t about rushing to the finish line; it’s about listening, adapting, and occasionally laughing at yourself along the way.
I’ve also gained a deep appreciation for my neck (and for gravity). Simple things like looking down, turning my head, or glancing both ways feel like tiny miracles now.
So if you happen to see a very tall person turning their entire torso just to say hello – don’t worry. That’s me, taking it slow, smelling faintly of Evil Bone Water, and feeling grateful that my head’s still held high.
Disclaimer: This post reflects my personal recovery experience. Always consult your healthcare provider before trying new treatments or remedies. Healing takes time – but with patience, humor, and maybe a little herbal help, it happens.
