Just Psoas We're Clear...

…I'm not out of the woods.

Not at all.

It's rearing it's ugly head again, and I'm nearly in a tailspin.

Two days ago we were celebrating Christmas with my family-in-law. It was a wonderful day with the two new kiddos in the family. We were exchanging gifts and I was sitting on the floor with Josh, getting ready to help him open some gifts. There was nothing of any value to note really…I wasn't sitting in a strange position, or jerking about in any particular way. It just, all of a sudden happened. My psoas tensed up and tweaked. It began to ache and throb, just like it used to do right before it would spasm. I felt my face go white, and I know Matt sensed my panic because he kept asking me what was wrong and saying to sit on the couch and relax.

It never ended up actually spasming, and by the end of the night I had almost completely forgotten about it. I took some ibuprofen before bed, and made sure not to sleep on my right side at all. I woke up yesterday and felt much better.

But then this morning, as I crawled out of our big easy chair (the same chair I was in the first time I ever had a psoas spasm…apparently I don't learn lessons well. This was, to say the least, a "teachable moment."), the psoas tensed up and throbbed/ached again. This time it was to the point where I was afraid to stand up straight, because that was always the spasm trigger the last time this was an issue. I immediately took some ibuprofen and put some heat on it. It's about three hours later and it feels a lot better now.

But the thing is…now it's out there. Now it's a worry again. Something I will constantly be paranoid about. What if it happens while I'm alone with Josh? I don't want to be dramatic, but I hate the thought of it happening while I'm taking care of him. Now I'm so careful when lifting him, extra cautious not to move or bend oddly. It's disheartening, to feel like this will always be a wet blanket hanging over me.

When I first started drafting this entry, I wrote the first line as: "I'm not out of the woods, yet." After a while I realized that my condition may not be conducive to the use of "yet" in that statement. I am starting to think that I will never truly be out of the woods with this "recovery." Can I even call it a recovery after four years? I guess so…

Anyway, it's a harsh realization, when you go from carefree back to concern in the blink of an eye.

Matt and I keep trying to say that we have to cut my hip a bit of slack here, considering my body has changed SO MUCH in a year and a half. I've gone from 126 pounds pre-pregnancy, to 173 pounds in nine months; and then from 173 pounds to 111 pounds in the next eight months. That's a CRAZY amount of change for my body. I'm hoping that I can just start doing some daily stretches and just be a little more cognizant of it, and maybe it won't end up being an issue at all.

I will keep you posted. I'm hoping this is just a quick bump in the road.

Oh Baby!

Hi!
Oh my. I'm a terrible blogger and I apologize. I've been a bit busy, you know…having a baby and all!

We've welcomed JM! He was born April 17, weighing 7 lbs 7 oz. A perfectly healthy and happy, beautiful gift from above. To say Matt and I are over the moon is just a bit of an understatement. He is the best thing that has ever happened to us and we are so in love!

He's just about 8 months old now. He's kind of saying "Mama," he's trying really hard to crawl, and he's got two teeth coming in on the bottom! He is just the bees knees. :)

I could go on forever about what it's been like to be a mom, but honestly I feel like this first post back into this blog after such a long absence should be short and sweet for you guys. Just to get you up to date on the most important stuff, so I don't overwhelm you with a 4329473 page long post about mom-hood.

As far as the end of my pregnancy, and my delivery goes, I really had a pretty great experience. I think a lot of women hip-y's who hope to start family's worry a lot about how our hips will impact our pregnancies and deliveries.

I have to tell you that having RPAO made ALL the difference in my pregnancy. I had very little pain, if any, on my right side. I gained about 50 pounds and honestly, I hardly had much pain at all. I mostly just felt heavy and achy. But I'm sure all women feel that way at the end of a pregnancy. The majority of the pain and discomfort that I felt was in my left side sciatic, and some general left side hip pain. To remind you all, I still have impingement on that side, so there's some lingering pain there. Nothing that I feel needs to be addressed, though. The only thing I really felt on my right side was occasional weakness.

As far as delivery goes, my hip surgeon, OB/GYN, husband and I all had conversations about how to approach delivering this baby. Matt's main concern (and rightfully so) was me re-injuring my hip during delivery and not being healthy to enjoy my new baby. We also worried about me being injured and poor Matt having to take care of me and help with the new baby. I worried about these thing, a lot. I reached out to other women who delivered vaginally and heard good success stories, however I also heard women talking about not being able to get the baby through the birth canal. Some even told me they re-tore their labrum while pushing. It took a lot of time to think and deliberate, but everyone pretty much came to the conclusion that a scheduled caesarian was the way to go.

I'm going to get real for a second, because I know you other hip-y's can understand. Do you know what I feared most? I feared being injured during delivery and falling back into that depressing feeling of helplessness that we can sometimes get in to. Only people with chronic pain can really understand what I'm talking about when I say this. But I honestly worried so much that I would tear a labrum, or something even worse, and I would have this new baby that I wouldn't be able to bring myself to enjoy because I would be consumed by the thoughts of another surgery and recovery. Or worse, the thought that maybe I did something that wasn't able to be fixed. Those feelings of pain and constant exhaustion and helplessness? I couldn't bear the thought of having those emotions with my first new baby in my arms.

So we chose caesarian. And you know what? I am SO GLAD that I did. In comparison to my PAO, it was EASY-PEASY. There was some pain, but the surgery and recovery was seriously so easy and smooth.

I just want to say for a sec: I am not insinuating that a c-section is not serious business. I don't want to offend anyone who's had a c-section and felt it extremely difficult. It's major abdominal surgery and it is not anything to mess with. I am just telling you that for me, since it was my fourth surgery in four years, it was a pretty easy recovery.

I have so many other things I want to say, and I promise to say them all at some point. But for now I just want to get back on the horse with this blog and say "Hello!" and "I'm back!"

I can't wait to get back into a groove with this! I really missed it.

We'll talk soon,
D

Disabling the Disability

You know, it’s funny. I commuted into Boston today to work out of our corporate headquarters. I took the train, and then walked from the train station about 10 blocks/a half mile to our office. As I got ready in the morning, I knew I had to wear sneakers because of this long walk. I put my sneakers on thinking “Will I ever be able to make a decision without weighing the effects it will have on my hips?” I thought that even though I’m surgically “fixed”…I’m not really, technically, fixed. I guess that even after a surgery like this, us hippies always have to worry about the fatigue, and the arthritis damage, and all of our little dings and dents we’ve gathered along the way. While I feel great (and I really do), I think everyone can admit that we still seem to have some minor limitations. And it got me to thinking, even after having a corrective surgery, do we still carry the burden of a “disability?”

Before surgery, it look me a long time to admit that I have a disability. It seems like a word that’s meant for people who are truly worse off than I am, or was. I always felt like saying that I have a disability was me trying to make excuses for myself. As my pain progressed, everyday things got harder and harder for me. I began to face that fact that admitting that I have a disability is not making excuses, it’s accepting myself and my limitations for who I am and what they are. And that is far more important than pride. Mentally and physically, that was the hardest thing for me to admit.

Then, I settled into that definition. I came to terms with it. And, as I planned out the surgery and recovery, it really came to be a part of me and I embraced it. I knew my limitations and I could accommodate them. It was certainly a hard pill to swallow, but I felt as though the best way to deal with the situation was to face it head on. And so I did. Throughout PAO and scope recovery, I pushed myself when I needed to, and I cut myself slack when it was necessary. I lived with the hope that with every passing day, I was leaving my “disability” a little farther behind. 

As time went on, I got stronger; I became mobile and agile, and I became essentially pain free. And after a long while, I really felt great. And I still do. I feel better than I EVER have in my life. But, the reality is, I will never, ever be 100%. None of us hippies will ever truly be 100%. I just don’t think it’s possible. 

We all have our creaks and our cracks, and we have our aches and our pains (some worse than others). I have “start-up” pain in my left hip, and I still have arthritis pain in both hips most days. It’s not terrible, and it’s not constant, but it’s there. I guess my question is, we can recover from surgery, but do we ever recover from our “disability?” I was probably insatiably optimistic to think that I would wake up one day and feel like I never ever had any hip problems at all. I’m learning more and more, as time passes, that I will never truly shake myself of this feeling of being “disabled.” Even on my good days, where I am predominantly pain free, I worry about my hip. Mostly unnecessarily, for sure, but the slightest bit of worry is there.

And what’s worse is that these are the best days for me and my hips. They are great days, and I am thankful for them. I am doing things every day that I wouldn’t have been able to do effortlessly pre-surgery. However, I can’t help but have this nagging feeling in the back of my mind that it’s really kind of all downhill from here. These blue skies and tranquil waters are available for a limited time only. It’s like a ticking time bomb.  When will the other shoe drop?

Anyway, I hate to sound dramatic. It’s certainly not like I’m feeling this way every day. This morning, as I planned to wear sneakers because of the long walk, it just kind of struck me that there really is no way around these hip thoughts. And even though I feel better, I will never feel totally “normal.” I won’t ever be able to be totally carefree about my hips and how I use them. This is a fact of life for us hippies. 

However, I insist to always look at the positive. I still am thankful, every day, for the PAO surgery and my recovery. I am thankful that I can walk pain free, every day. I’m thankful for Dr. Schiller, and University Orthopedics. I’m thankful for Rhode Island Hospital and their fabulous care. I am thankful for Lepre Physical Therapy, and for Tom Almeida, who was a Godsend to me during my recovery. Truly a friend and huge supporter. I’m thankful for a one-of-a-kind husband who is irreplaceable. I (literally) could not have done all of this without him. And I’m thankful for all of my family and my friends.

I have a good life, and there’s no disability that will ever change that.

Detour Ahead

Well, I know it's been a while and that no news usually means good news. And you know what? It has been good news! It's been almost two months since I last wrote, and in that time I have been really great.
Since we spoke last a few integral things have happened. 1) I have been going continuously to PT, and 2) I have been instructed by my surgeon to not do any heavy lifting at my job. Both of these things have helped tremendously. I have been feeling really great.

But, with almost every good, there comes some bad...so here's mine:
It seems as though I cannot lift really anything. (I preface this with I've been really awesome, so I hate to complain at all...this is more of an informational post than anything.) I say that I can't really lift anything because on Sunday I picked up and carried a laundry basket full of clothing about...I don't know...10 feet? The laundry basket weighed about 30 pounds (Yes...I weighed it). After lifting it, my psoas felt a little tight, but it wasn't terrible. A few minutes later though, my muscles were throbbing. It was the all too familiar pain that I get right before I spasm. I tried to just keep it extended and relax...but it was really difficult. For the rest of the night, and even most of yesterday, I had a really hard time walking. Every time I get up, the psoas is very stiff and painful. It seems better today, after just resting it a lot. I'll keep you posted on all of this.

I told you that Dr. S instructed me to not do any lifting. Well, because of this, I have to go through my HR department at work and have a written note and have "restrictions/accommodations" on file. This is because there are times during my workday where I may be asked to lift heavy items. Right now my note from Dr. S is very vauge, and HR would like it to be more specific so that we can all better understand my needs. And I agree. I think that, overall, this laundry basket situation will actually help me, because now I understand that lifting just 30 pounds is going to put me in a bad spot. So I am going to talk with Dr. S and his office this week and better define my restrictions.

So, as annoying as it was to have this episode, I think it will actually help us to define my needs right now. And I think it helped me really understand just how fragile this situation is. I probably knew I shouldn't lift that laundry basket (alright...I knew I shouldn't), but I've been feeling so great I figured it would be fine. I obviously learned that lesson pretty quickly and I won't be making that mistake again.

Well, this is frustrating. The longer this whole thing drags out the longer it feels like it's never going to get better. Will this always be this way? Who knows...
Anyone out there have any psoas insight?

That's all I've really got for you right now. I haven't been to PT in two weeks because I've been wayyyy busy at work. The next time I go, I'll update you all on the exercises I'm doing to help out this psoas.

Hope all you hip-y's are doing well.
D

 

Wallows and Sorrows

I had a day yesterday. A DAY. 

I’m just going to warn you that this post is full of whining and wallowing in sorrows and I HATE being that way. While I’m feeling way better now and far more like my optimistic and enthusiastic self…yesterday I had a bad, bad day. And while I’d rather just erase this day from my memory and move on with my life, this blog is a place to document the good, the bad, and the way ugly.

To start, that morning I had to drive an hour away to a field site where I had to spend most of my day. Because my prescribed Valium makes me feel like an astronaut floating through space, I thought it best to not take this pill and then drive a bazillion miles south down a 3-4 lane highway. I felt fine all day, much to my surprise. It felt a little, teeny bit tight, but mostly fine.

I had my Physical Therapy appointment scheduled at the hospital for yesterday afternoon. This was with the therapist associated with my surgeon’s office. I had intended to take my Valium when I changed to go to the appointment. THAT plan got foiled because we ran late in the field and I had to run around like ninny just to make it to the hospital in time for my 2:45 appointment. (Which I then had to sit and wait around for another half hour for them to be ready to take me…but I digress.)

Val, the very nice lady who looks very much like Sophia Bush, took me in and asked me 7 million questions and wrote notes all over my form. They all looked like chicken scratch but they apparently meant something to her. Then the fun stuff began.

She took all sorts of measurements of hip angles and ranges of motion. She took some lying on my back and my belly, an even on each side. She took measurements of both hips for comparison. There was lots of stretching and pushing and pulling. Then she started showing me “light” stretches to focus on the psoas/hip flexors. At that point, I could feel things getting a little angry in there. Just liiiiiittle bit angry.

She asked me how I thought the spasms might be triggered, so I told her that every time they’ve happened so far, it has been directly after sitting down. The folding of my torso and the contracting the muscle together seems to be what’s causing it (in my non-medically-trained brain). So she seemed intrigued but not surprised. Innocently she said “Okay, so just do me a favor, stand up and then bring your leg up into a marching motion.” And….BAM! Muscle SPASM OF DOOM! I immediately panicked because I knew I was a half hour from home, I had to drive my car, and I immediately couldn’t even walk or move. The therapist and I instantly tried working on it to get it to calm down.

We heated it, she did direct pressure and even massage, we stretched it…nothing helped. It was a freaking scene in the clinic because she had to help me with everything I did. She had to help assist me to the chair because I couldn’t move the leg, she had to get the heat for me. She had to help to and up onto the massage table while I writhed in pain. It was so embarrassing. And of course everyone watched in horror (probably not…but it sure felt that way). I was there for forty-five minutes with her trying to get it to calm down so I could at least leave. Finally we decided that I HAD to take the Valium, so she got my bag and some water for me. Luckily I had it with me.

After taking the pill it was like a twisted race against time. I needed the valium so that my leg could feel well enough to walk to my car and drive, but my Valium makes me pretty out of it and I didn’t feel comfortable driving while on it. What a mess.

When the spasms lightened a little, I was then able to at least move my leg a little bit so that I could walk if I crouched over and took tiny steps. I decided to leave at that point…there was nothing left they could do for me and as long as I could get myself into the car and comfortable, I was confident at that point that I would be okay to drive. As I was leaving, I bumped into my surgeon’s assistant, Hilda (aka nicest lady ever). She was so worried about me because I obviously looked like a hot mess. She didn’t know if I should drive like that. She lives in the town next to me and she wanted to drive me to a meeting place where Matt could then pick me up. I wanted to take her up on it, but the problem was that I was not leaving my car in the middle Providence overnight. I might as well leave a big sign on it saying “Please steal me!”

Hilda walked me all the way to my car, during which time she told me she really wants me to get a permanent handicapped placard. She told me to fill the papers out today and to send her the paperwork. She also said she was going to tell Dr. Schiller about the whole thing (I felt like it was when my mom used to say “Wait until I tell your father about this!”)

It took a few minutes to get into my car because of course I parked my car right next to a giant column and I couldn’t open my door very far. That made an already difficult situation even more difficult. Seems so silly to read that, I’m sure, but I was so stressed out from the mess of a scene at PT, then seeing Hilda and having her dote all over me and telling me she’s going to talk to Dr. S, and the tension from the spasm, this stupid column next to my car was like a monumental issue at the time.

I finally got myself into my car and found a position where I was actually pretty okay. I wasn’t irritating the spasm, and I could move my foot back in fourth to the pedals with minimal pain. It was obvious the valium was working and I could drive home. I just took it slow.

As I drove home, all of the everything that had happened over the last couple hours really just hit me all at once. I was overwhelmed and embarrassed. I was annoyed, aggravated, and most of all, severely discouraged. I kept having these awful “These spasms will never go away!” thoughts and the “I’m going to have to take Valium for the rest of my life!” thoughts. So dramatic, but I honestly couldn’t help it. I am not ever like that, ever. I pride myself on trying to always be thankful for what I do have, and grateful for an overall very healthy and happy life. But last night man, it all just kind of piled on.

And then it all just got worse. Because I am a Daddy’s Girl, through and through…right down to my core. I am the definition of a Daddy’s Girl. And my whenever anything got me discouraged, or down…or upset, I would always talk to my dad about it. He was the wisest man I’ve ever met; extremely intelligent, and insightful, and thoughtful. And besides all that, he was the most supportive person in my life. Always. He and I were two peas in a pod. So, for me, going through this has been difficult all along. But last night, after all I had been through that day, and the horrible pain that I was still having in my leg even three or four hours later, all I wanted was my Daddy.

I just wanted my Daddy. And he’s not here. So there it is. A girl sometimes just needs her dad…and I can’t have him. So while driving home, all of these awful emotions just hit me all at once and I had a “woe is me” sobbing-crying-pity-party all the way home and for about another hour after that.

Then I ate a brownie.

What can I say? Sometimes a girl just needs her Dad. BUT, I picked my head up, wiped the tears, realized I was being dramatic and have since just done my best to pick my sorry self up and move on. That’s what I do. I move on and adjust the sails.

Friday I see Sophia Bush (Val) again, and we are going to do more gentle stretches, no exercises. We may try some ultrasound, depending on how I’m doing. From this point forward I will not do any strenuous anything, I can’t even LOOK at strenuous exercises. No more of the exercises Dr. Schiller gave me. I just have a couple stretches that Val gave me and I have to do those three times a day every day.

Today, I am looking forward, and not backward. I’m realizing that even when I can’t hug my dad, he’s still hugging me. He’s here, and he’s supporting me, even if I sometimes can’t see that. Today, I move forward, and not backwards. This psoas is a roadblock, but I’ll find a detour to keep the course.

I'm Such a Spaz(m).

Hello friends,

Quick update on what’s what.

I spoke with my surgeon yesterday because Wednesday was obviously really crappy and I KEEP having these spasm episodes. He said that he wants me to get this psoas situation in check so that I can continue with PT and finally loosen it up and strengthen it so we stop having these issues. Because I’ve been continuing to have these episodes, he prescribed Valium as a muscle relaxer to treat my muscle spasms. I have to take a 5 mg pill every 8 hours for at least the next two weeks.

I picked up the prescription last night on my way home from work, and planned on taking one right after dinner. I was dreading it a bit because I don’t like taking pills at all and I had really felt okay all day.

I wanted to just sit in the living room and watch some of the Red Sox game before taking my pill so I went and sat down in my favorite chair and BAM. As soon as I sat down, it started to spasm immediately. I tried to stretch it out and calm it down before it got too bad but it was too late. At this point I was frustrated and disappointed so I just sucked it up and took the Valium. I also put a heating pad on it and tried to gently massage it. I hurt for another hour and a half or so, but it slowly got better as the Valium kicked it. Even though I hate to admit it, it definitely helped. The spasm was completely gone by 8:30 pm…lasting about an hour and half but being progressively better after a half hour of being on the Valium. The Valium made it tolerable, which is really the best I can ask for until we get this situation taken care of.

So, I’ve just taken the Valium again this morning, as ordered by my surgeon, and I’m hoping that it now starts to be preventative. I won’t lie; it makes me a little loopy. Kind of like when you take a dose of Nyquil. It’s not terrible, though…which is good.

I’ll keep you posted on how I make out.

Talk soon,

D