One step forward, two steps back

Standard

That’s me.

Today I had my follow up visit for this whole pelvic floor business.  I went in an a great mood, having had a great weekend and lots of positive reports from the physical therapist.  I’ve been doing everything that has been recommended to me, taking all of the medicines and supplements religously, “lowering my stress” to the extent possible, cutting back my hours at work, and seeing a physcologist for cognitive behavioral modification to help me learn to deal with chronic pain without tension.  It’s been a lot of work, but I’ve been really motivated to feel better.  And I have been better.  Not normal, but better.  Not depending on pain pills to get me through the day. Progress.

So I went in feeling good, ready for the good news.  I received the praise I was expecting for all the progress I made and then I asked the question..”So how many more weeks until I’m all the way better?”

And not unkindly, just matter-of-factly: “Probably Never.”

“You’ll never get back to how you felt before you had children. But if you mean how much longer I want you keep doing what you are doing?  At least a year.” 

“A year?”

“About a year, yes.”  And as that sad fact bounced around my head I heard him go on that now that I was used to the medicine I should up my dose, when I thought I was about finished with it.  And how I needed to do my home therapies religiously, when I thought I could taper off.  How I need to continue to take it easy and not expect that I can do as much as I used to do.  How I should wait at least a year before trying anything like biking…. and on and on. 

And I suppose that when I think back, no one ever told me that I would get back to “normal”.  I made my own assumptions and read into what I was told.  And I have been ignorantly believing that by the end of May, I could close this chapter.  And now I hear that 50% of his patients like me never recover, but learn coping skills to control the pain.  And that I am one of the “lucky ones” because I’m not incontinent and won’t need surgery. 

And maybe I should look at it that way, that I’m lucky.  Lucky to have a diagnosis and health care and medication to give me a good quality of life.  But I was expecting more.  And right now, I’m feeling really down. It’s small potatos in the grand scheme of life but right now? Tonight?  It sucks. I’m glad I took the day off of work so I could mope in peace.

And now I’m going to close that chapter on the blog at least, even if I can’t close it in my life.

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2 responses »

  1. Sorry you did not get the news you expected. Sarah and I feel lucky that you are our friend. We hope to see You, Craig, Devan and Leah this summer. Hope you have a better day tomorrow.Ryan

  2. A year that is a bummer but just think.. you waited nine quick months to have your beautiful kiddos. Some days seemed dreadfully slow but other days sped by. You can do it!!

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