It was 3:47 AM. Hour 9 of a Madrid-Buenos Aires flight.
My wife Carmen was in the seat next to me. Crying in silence.
Not from sadness. From pain.
The same stabbing tailbone pain that had haunted her for the last 3 years.
That pain that turned every flight into torture. That robbed her of sleep. That made her arrive at every destination exhausted and miserable.
"I can't take it anymore, Alejandro," she whispered. "This is the last long trip I'm taking."
And there I was.
A spine specialist with 23 years of experience.
Unable to help his own wife.
Next to her was a $2,250 viscoelastic foam cushion. Completely flattened after just 2 hours. Useless.
In her bag, the gel cushion we'd bought at the airport.
The one that "guaranteed" relief for long flights. Also useless.
That night, while Carmen tried to find a position that didn't make her cry, I made a decision:
I was going to find out why NO cushion worked... and what it would take to create one that did.