I think that in my last post I forgot to mention that I have this "hip thing" too. Surely you remember the posts about the "quack crack" doctor... Remember? My first visit to a chiropractor? Aha. You remember. Well, I mentioned to my PCP at my last visit that obviously the pain in my hip wasn't my depressed mind's way of giving me physical pain. I know this because I have been feeling somewhat NOT depressed. I also haven't been having as many thoughts of ODing on Vicodin and killing myself as much!! Let's celebrate!
But first, back to my hip. I went and saw a "sports medicine" doctor today. She was a slight person. Short hair. Looked like she was kin to Tinkerbell. I mean that in a purely jealous way. She grabbed my leg and man handled me like *I* was Tinkerbell and she was Hulk Hogan. I went there to find relief for the constant pain I have been in for years--and left there in the worst pain I have been in--in years!! She had (another)set of xrays taken. I explained to her in the most simplest of terms where my pain IS ("If I was Barbie and you RIPPED my leg off--then tried to jab the leg part back into the hole--THAT is where it hurts."). There (of COURSE) was nothing on the xray. So she comes to the medical conclusion that it is "soft tissue". Says I obviously injured my hip flexor awhile back and then with all my coddling of that leg...I put all my weight on the other leg. Favor it when sitting, walking...well, even breathing, that I have caused it to tighten in such a way that my range of movement (pain free movement) is quite limited. So, lets MOVE it she says. She wants me to go to physical therapy in a heated pool 2-3 times per week for a month--then reevaluate it. Which in MY mind means: We aren't sure WHAT is wrong with you lady, but we will take your copay for a good month--then try something else when that doesn't work--haha!!
So I had to go buy a swimsuit. oh gawd. I won't depress you with THAT story. Just know that I have one. And even tho I look awful in it--if I see ONE geriatric patient in the pool that looks better that me--I will die. Of embarrassment.
I'm sure I'll get to bore you with even more details of my hip escapade. So now I have decided to put off the vah-jay-jay crap until it hurts me worse than the hip. I am falling apart people. Piece by piece.