The Miracle Chair

I've mentioned in passing on this webbbbblog (because when people say the whole word it sounds like it has about 5,000 B's) that I have the crippling affliction known as endometriosis. I have little parasitic implants growing on my insides, and my left ovary is a complete piece of shit. My main symptom is pain in my low back that is sometimes so bad I have to crawl from room to room. And that last part is not an exaggeration. If it weren't for me dragging myself across the floor, I'd never know about the dust bunny love ranch that has formed under my bed.

I've tried so many things to keep pain from taking over my life. I've been on a steady diet of prescription narcotics for years. I keep a heating pad next to my bed. I've taken special yoga classes for women with endometriosis. I contort myself into Cirque du Soleil worthy poses in an attempt to find a position that feels comfortable, but each day I'm in at least some pain. That is, until Sadie and I went to Sweden and I experienced The Miracle Chair.

The apartment we had in Sweden was modest, compared to our digs last summer. We were only there for five days though, so it's not like we needed anything more than a bed and a shower. Little did we know that the chair in our cheaply decorated room was the equivalent of a kiss from the Baby Jesus in terms of back pain relief. I sat in the Miracle Chair and BAM! Pain. Gone. Seriously, if Sadie sat in the chair I would growl at her until she got up and let me have some private time with my new lover. I swore upon leaving that I would get that chair for my own home, and once I had it in my greedy clutches I'd never let it go. 

As I'm sure you've noticed by now, when I get obsessed with something, there's no shutting me up until I make it mine. And so I lusted for what I had by then dubbed "The Miracle Chair," for about a month after I got back from Europe. I knew that it was from Ikea and I trolled the website looking at all the different varieties of Poang chairs until I found the perfect combination for me. Behold!

Son of a mother that's a nice chair. I have the matching ottoman too, because really, what's a miracle chair without a miracle ottoman?

The Miracle Chair is molded in such a way that it curves into your lower back, and then sort of bends until you're in the perfect relaxation position. One afternoon I spent five straight hours in The Miracle Chair watching a Ru Paul's Drag Race marathon. And I felt no pain the entire time! I can't really express to my dear readers what it's like to live with constant pain, but when you find something that gets rid of it, you get addicted to that shit real fast. Which is why The Miracle Chair is better than say, Vicodin. There's a new Swedish love machine in town, and I'm not talking about ASkars.