You will not be surprised to learn there is more to the saga of the Tempur-Pedic. As mentioned, the first and second nights, my back felt better to an astonishing extent.
After the third night, my back felt strained again; ditto the fourth.
The Tempur-Pedic website contains this handy FAQ:
[Question:] I am experiencing lower back pain. Is my Tempur-Pedic mattress causing this?
[Answer, in its entirety:] No.
Online reviews reveal that people either love or hate this mattress. Many find it wonderfully comfortable; some say it fixed their back pain. Others say it made their back hurt or is too warm or that it’s hard to change positions once you sink into it.
The most worrisome thing was the oft-voiced complaint that after just a couple of years, the foam compressed, losing its “memory foam” property of returning to its original shape when weight is taken off it.
That would be OK if it was not so expensive an item. However, one could economize by not buying a $150 pillow, which I did buy, and by not buying the $300 box the mattress sits on, which I did buy but could easily live without, as my mattresses have always been smack on the floor, anyway.
The box was acquired on the theory that I’m entering the life phase where I may not be able to claw my way to a standing position from floor level, but I can probably still do it for a few more years.
The boxes come in two heights: five inches and nine inches. I have the nine-inch one and it makes my bed a much more imposing item than it was before. Since my apartment is so small, it now basically looks like the display case for a bed.
Another way one could save money is to get a smaller size. My mattress is full size, but I sleep on only one-third of it, as nothing is more relaxing than clinging to the edge of a bed. A twin would probably allow room for me and Hammett, though it would mean accepting I’m never going to have overnight company again, but maybe it’s time to accept that, anyway.
Of course, probably the surest way to attract overnight company is to make the accommodations for such nonexistent. However, Tom has a nice big bed and he’s so friendly that he’d probably let my company sleep over at his place.
When I was dating Tom, I swear I could say to him, “Bob and I are going away for the weekend,” and he’d say, “Great! I hope you have a good time.” In some subsequent conversation, he might, or might not, ask, “Who’s Bob? I’m not sure I’ve heard you mention him.”
He was just too easy to get along with; it couldn’t last, though I hope it lasts forever as a friendship.
It seems the Tempur-Pedic definitely will not last forever, so I may return the pillow, return the box, and get a smaller size, bringing the cost down enough that it won’t be upsetting if it lasts only three years. Or I could decide that even if it dies in three years, the monthly cost for comfortable sleep will have been acceptable.
I looked online at an organic mattress store in
That’s why I bought my Tempur-Pedic from Sleep Train, even though they sold me the crappy pillow top that lasted only two and a half years: they have an outstanding return policy. They also do free delivery and will come and pick up whatever you want to return.
Today I got a chilling email from my friend Dot, who is a personal trainer, saying that when she was my age, she also started to have back pain, and also concluded it was her mattress, and also went and spent a relatively large amount of money on a mattress, only to find that her back pain continued and that what was needed was a good strengthening/stretching program (which may have led directly to her current career). (Which suggests that later I may have a career in eating Tings and then taking a nap.)
She sent some handy info about an exercise to strengthen the transverse abdominis, which she thinks is key, and which crunches do nothing for.
Therefore, I may end up returning the Tempur-Pedic, watching the cash wash back into my checking account, and buying a less expensive firm mattress upon which I can put a foam topper, as needed.
Hammett’s symptoms have not returned since he finished his course of Amoxidrops four weeks ago, thank goodness. Just yesterday, in a show of feline vigor, he did something to my venerable answering machine that finished it off.
“I’m completely cut off from the outside world,” I lamented. But later I remembered it is technically possible to turn the ringer of the phone on and then I felt a smug satisfaction at being unreachable.
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