Total Relief Today

My Honest Experience…

Please don't buy this back massager. I was told I needed an L4-L5 fusion three years ago. Here's what happened when I used this for 30 days. I'm Rhonda Ellis. I've been a spine surgery nurse for 22 years. I teach patients how to roll out of bed, how to sit, how to lift a laundry basket, and how to accept that this is something they will be managing for the rest of their lives. Three years ago I sat in an exam room and heard my own surgeon say the same words I have said to hundreds of people. This is degenerative. We'll start conservative. If it doesn't hold, we'll talk about fusing L4-L5. She handed me the pre-op packet. I took it home. It has been sitting on my kitchen counter, unopened, for three years. I couldn't do it. Not yet. I've spent 22 years watching patients sign that consent form, follow every instruction perfectly, and come back for the level above. Injections at 52. Fusion at 55. Revision at 59. By 62 they've spent a fortune and they hurt more than the day I met them. I know the trajectory. I teach the trajectory. I wasn't ready to walk it. A colleague at a continuing education conference mentioned this device. She said her sister was walking her dog again in ninety days. Traction, deep heat and muscle work, all at the same time, fifteen minutes lying down. I'd heard the traction claims for years and dismissed every one of them, because every device I'd ever seen just stretched you for ten minutes and let go the second you stood up. I figured I had nothing to lose. The packet would still be on the counter if this didn't work. Day 1: Fifteen minutes before bed. Didn't expect anything. Day 3: I got out of bed without the roll-and-brace. The thing I teach patients to do. I did it wrong, the normal way, and nothing happened. I didn't say anything to my husband. Day 5: The 3 AM wake-up didn't come. I'd had it most nights for two years and I'd stopped calling it anything. It just didn't come. Day 7: I sat through an entire meal at the table. All of it. I've been eating standing at the counter since the spring. Day 10: I put my own socks on standing up, holding the dresser. For 22 years I've told patients that's a milestone. This week I finally understood why they cry when they hit it. Day 14: I drove to work without the wedge cushion. Forty minutes each way. I didn't notice until I was parking. Day 17: The numbness along the outside of my left foot. I noticed it was gone because I could feel the seam of my sock against my little toe. I sat in my car in the staff lot and just felt my own foot. Day 21: I walked the dog to the end of the street and back. My husband watched from the porch and didn't say a word. He's been carrying this with me for three years. Day 24: I bent down and picked up a dropped fork. Without planning it first. Without doing the maths. Day 27: I slept on my left side. Then the right. Both sides, same night. Day 30: I got down on the floor with my granddaughter. And I got back up on my own. No help. My husband came in and saw my face. What's wrong? I told him I'd got up off the floor. He dropped his phone. Six weeks after I started, I went back to my surgeon. She watched me walk in. Watched me sit down. Watched me stand up out of the chair without pushing off the arms. What did you change? I told her. The traction, the heat, the fifteen minutes. She made a note. Then she said something I wasn't expecting. Whatever this is, keep doing it. Let's take you off the surgical list for now and see where you are in six months. The pre-op packet is still sitting on my counter. Unopened. Three years old. I'm furious. I'm furious because I've spent 22 years teaching patients that this is a management condition. That you pace yourself forever. That the goal is fewer bad days, not good ones. And nobody at any conference in any of those years told me about the height, the fluid, the fifteen minutes. Here's what I learned. Most treatments never reach the disc. Your discs have almost no blood supply of their own after about age 20. They are the largest structure in the human body without one. Which means a pill in your bloodstream and a cream on your skin physically cannot get to them. The Blood Supply Blind Spot. Surgery removes the symptom, not the cause. A fusion takes the movement out of one level and hands that load straight to the level above it. That's why so many of my patients come back. The Domino Trade. The answer is to feed the disc the only way a disc can be fed. A disc without a blood supply drinks. It draws fluid in whenever the pressure comes off it, which is why you're taller in the morning than at night. Take the pressure off long enough and warm the tissue while it's off, and the disc refills and regains height. That's The Overnight Refill, and it's the one thing nothing I ever taught was designed to do. Traction opens the space, 3 to 7 millimetres. Infrared heat at 122°F lets the fluid actually move. Massage down the paraspinal muscles stops them hauling everything shut the moment you stand up. Miss any one of the three and you're back where you started in twenty minutes, which is exactly why the inversion table in my garage never worked. Fifteen minutes at night. Lying on your own bed. That's all I did. 90-day money-back guarantee. If nothing changes, you pay nothing. So don't buy it. There'll be more for me. Hopefully they don't sell out again, because I'd like to order a second one for my sister and I'd rather it was still there when I do. If the pain just started running down your leg. If your surgeon just handed you a packet. If it's sitting on your counter and you can't make yourself open it. If you were told this is manageable and something in you refuses to accept that management is the whole story. Try this. Give it 30 days. Watch what your mornings do. I went from eating standing up to getting off the floor on my own. From a surgical date to my own surgeon asking me to come back in six months so she can see it again. The pre-op packet is still unopened. ~ Rhonda Ellis 👉 https://try.smoothspine.com/tfbm-coc-adv2