T stands for TORTURE

Allow me to get you up to speed.  Around the beginning of the year I had high hopes of having found a local doc who would treat Lyme Disease AND STILL TAKE INSURANCE.  A rare combination.  My hopes were dashed when I was told over the phone that he doesn’t take Lyme patients, but he agreed to look over my records.  I had them faxed to his office, he looked them over, and stated unequivocally that he would not take my case.

Set back.

Because I’ve been experiencing a good deal of hip, leg, and foot pain, I feared the Lyme was returning.  And was angry.  So I went back on the antibiotic protocol that my Orlando Lyme doctor tried to put me on last year.  After a bad reaction, he took me off the meds, but told me to try again in 2 weeks.  I waited 8 months.  And this time the reaction was times 5.  I lost 3 days of my life and revised my will at least a half a dozen times.

I threw those antibiotics in the street and ran them over with the van.  Before setting them ablaze.

Plan C went into effect.  We lost my favorite doctor in the area who was as close to a Naturopath and still took insurance as I’ll EVER find.  LOVED him.  But he sold his practice (thank you new health care law which shall go unnamed because I only discuss politics in person…over a bottle of Mad Dog 20/20).  Fiddledaddy found a sports medicine doctor in the area who he had been seeing and he sang this doctor’s praises to the heavens.  Fiddledaddy is not an easy sell when it comes to doctors so I thought I’d give it a go.

This doctor knew I had Lyme Disease, but I asked him to look at me with fresh eyes.  Fiddledaddy wasn’t convinced that I am dealing with a resurgence of Lyme, because the symptoms seemed to be localized from my hips down.  As opposed to EVERYWHERE with the additional bonus of not remembering my own phone number.  GOOD TIMES.

This doctor poked and prodded, checking this and that.  He told me that he really believed that my pain issues were all related to the fact that I was seriously OUT OF ALIGNMENT.  So much so that one leg is now longer than the other.  He talked about a whole bunch of 4-syllable medical terms that made my eyes roll to the back of my head.  I paid very little attention in Health, Physics, and Biology.  But I do know that the hip bone is connected to the thigh bone.  And the thigh bone is connected to the knee bone.  And you do the hokey pokey and you turn yourself about….

In other words, everything from my lower back down is angry.  Very angry.  And at the end of the trail I have Plantar Fasciitis in both feet.  (It was only one foot a while back.  But share the wealth, and all that…)

The one thing that I did hear loud and clear and understood was that, “THIS IS TOTALLY FIXABLE.”  He does have a working understanding of Lyme Disease, and he warned me that because of that, I may experience joint pain in addition to all of everything else.  I would just have to keep an eye on it.  His recommendation was 3 weeks of Physical Therapy.  Which I started.  Last week.

Let me tell you a little bit about Physical Therapy, as this is not my first rodeo.  The first week?  That’s the honeymoon phase wherein they lull you into a sense of false security with gentle massage, soft music, and scented candles.  (Okay, I’m exaggerating about the scented candles.)  Then the next week they CUT LOOSE WITH ALL THE MIND NUMBING PAINFUL STRETCHING TECHNIQUES.   I AM CERTAIN THAT I WAS NOT MEANT TO BEND THAT WAY.  GUMBY I am NOT.

This leads me to the assertion that P.T. actually stands for Physical Torture.

When I get home Fiddledaddy hands me the heating pad.  But really, I think I need a full body heating pad.  I don’t even know where to start.

I am really and truly optimistic.  I do believe that I’m making strides.  And by strides I mean that I’m no longer spitting on the ground when I think of my Physical Therapist.

They asked me what my goals were on the P.T. new patient form.  I said, “a cartwheel.”  But in reality it is closer to, “just to get from one end of the room to the other without feeling like I’m 90.”

But a cartwheel would be totally cool.  Hope springs eternal.

DeeDeeSig

11 Responses to T stands for TORTURE

  • I have missed your posts and have been thinking of you. I pray you are healed soon, and praise God it wasn’t something “unfixable”. God bless you.

  • Fixable is good! 🙂

    Get yourself an electric mattress pad (we LOVE ours) and an electric blanket. You will be warmed and toasted just like a piggie in a blanket!

    • Brooke, that would be well and good. Except for the HOT FLASHES. My poor husband. He wakes up freezing because I’ve thrown all the blankets out of the room in the middle of the night. 🙂

  • oh, thank you for posting, I’ve been praying and thinking of you. hugs, Jen

  • Have any of your docs mentioned taking at least 3000mg of omega-3 EPA/DHA per day? The anti-inflammation properties are amazing, but don’t really kick in effectively until you reach that dosage level. Worked wonders on this 50+ years, lifetime of sports-damaged body…

  • Did they lay you on your back and ask you to put your leg in the air, attach a rope, and then ask you to pull? Yeah.. I thought so. We should compare notes. I have a few thoughts on heel pain as well. 🙂

  • Girl,
    You do realize your sense of humor is from God himself, right? For you to be able to tell your P.T. story, with all its torture, and still make people smile, is amazing. Just sayin’. I too have the wonders of plantar fasciitis. I’m 45, but feel about 95 when I jump out of bed in the morning and hobble into the bathroom. Sigh.
    Praying that you get to feeling better very soon!

  • I feel for you! I used to wake up every day and hobble around feeling 90 until my feet stretched out a little–and then again by the end of the day when my feet had just about had enough. There is hope! The operative word in this comment is “used to!”

  • On behalf of my profession, I apologize- I have said for years that PT stands for pain and torture!!

    Misery loves company,no? I am a PT, I should know about muscles and exercise…I went to my first Kettlebell class this week- lucky me, it is “Cardio week”-a.k.a. lets do squats and step up’s and burpees….I have not had more exercise than a stroll around the block with my dogs-and over the Polar Vortex winter here in IL, the whole block did not see me often-all this verboseness to say I can’t sit down or stand up without being in AGONY! I will think of you with every painful move! God bless