"I can tell you're a strong person," K. said. I smiled. It felt like the first genuine smile that had crossed my face in days. During PT I'm mostly quiet. I like B. and L. (my therapists) they're both really nice people, but the shadow of failure always seems to be hovering above me.
I do the exercises religiously, even when I don't feel like it. But last weekend, as I got ready for bed, my right hip just seemed to fall out of its socket. Not a dislocation, just a sublux, but a very painful one. The larger the joint, I find, the more painful it is for it to be out of place, even slightly.
Usually I can correct a sublux easily, but I was having trouble that day, so much so that the muscles around the hip went into spasm and I started crying and yelling and banged on the wall for my parents' help. My mother kept suggesting different positions and I went through them, pulling my knee in towards my chest, then pulling it towards my other leg, then outward. At some point it finally went back in and I sighed with relief.
And then I felt embarrassed. I had always been able to reduce my own luxations, even as a child who didn't understand what was happening to her. The fact that I couldn't this time scared me. But as always, I didn't want to face the fear just then, so I crammed it into the back of my mind.
My mother was telling me about hip exercises and I snapped at her. "Are you saying this is my fault?!"
She said no, very calmly. My younger sister has had an explosive temper since childhood, so she's used to the occasional blow-up.
She asked me to feel her hip muscles. I did. They were firm. I touched mine. They were soft and gooshy. No wonder she didn't have these problems. I felt scared again and quickly substituted that feeling with shame. I'll just have to work harder, try to build myself up.
This is, what, my fifth round of PT?
If what Dr. Tinkle says is true than the hormonal treatment I take for my endometriosis is affecting my ability to synthesize collagen at the molecular level. And trying to fight back against it seems not to be working.
If I want my PT to "take" I think I need to go on a different treatment. But I can't get my gyno to listen to me. Eff him, I'm going back to the old one. And he subluxed my hip during the operation (I was in stirrups) and when a nurse tried to tell him he just waved her off and walked away. God, that surgery sucked.
And the next doctor who tells me to go to therapy for pain is going to get asked if they'll pay the co-insurance.
My hips are in terrible shape. Such shape that I've been homebound for most the month of January, save doctors' appointments and a jaunt to Pittsburgh to crash their EDS support group. So the next time I see the doctor I'm going to ask very firmly for a prescription for forearm crutches so I can walk around again.
I get very sad when I can't go out.
He better say yes.
My first ring splint arrived, but I think the measurement is little large at the distal end. I only need to splint my fingertip joints (the DIP) the middle joints (PIP) are stable. But apparently these fingertip splints are prone to coming off unless they are a little snug.
So I need to do an exchange, work the postage into next month's budget. Even though it was ill-fitting, I was excited to see it. I promptly started pushing every button in the house: the microwave, the dishwasher, the icemaker, the thermostat. It was delightful not to feel the joint collapse and the accompanying pain.
K. urged me to do whatever I could to spread the word about EDS.
I asked my mom what she thought of a bikini car wash fundraiser come spring. She said I'd hurt my shoulders.
I'll take that as a 'yes.'