So, I just told Diana @Diana21 she could vent. I’m gonna vent, too, but I’ll do it here in my personal space so the world doesn’t have to read it if they don’t want to. Hers was actually MAV related and is an important topic dealing with the emotional toll of MAV. (https://www.mvertigo.org/t/it-just-got-so-real/18124) Mine probably isn’t even MAV related, but who’s to tell. (Thanks again James @turnitaround for giving us valuable space to talk about our personal experiences.)
Some days being me is frustrating. Today is just such a day. I’ve been nauseous a lot lately. Bloated. The typical joys of IBS. Today took it to a new level.
I’m talking on the phone after lunch. Having an unusually enjoyable conversation with a sales representative who really finds purpose and pleasure in his job at Godaddy. (You go Flynn!) During the end of the conversation I start feeling so very not right. He can’t tell because unless you happen to be looking right at me, I can sound normal during nearly anything, provided I don’t have to keep it up long. I did manage to hang up the phone.
Without much warning other than a creeping brain fog, sudden motion sensitivity, photosensitivity and blurred vision, my whole system decides to violently purge. The bathroom is mercifully right next to my office. And the fixtures are close together. And then pain - big time, gasp, cry, panic pain in the lower right quadrant of my pelvis. The sort of pain that doubles you over and suggests maybe a call to 911. (I didn’t call 911.) I sort of limp and hunchback my way to the bedroom with an ice pack (small house footprints are a really good idea). An hour of squirming and gasping and looking up things like appendicitis and strangulation of the intestines later, I realize I’m late to PT. I have to go to PT because my shoulder and neck have been on fire in a crazy searing pain for weeks. Just sitting at my desk makes my eyes water by the end of the day.
My PT is a lovely woman who basically said she’d work the shoulder and suggested maybe my dumbass should have gone to urgent care instead. (Didn’t do that either.) She won’t touch my pelvis until it calms down. Holy piss did that shoulder work hurt today. I have a huge pain tolerance, but man oh man that hurt. She used the phrase “oh honey” about a half dozen times as she ground her elbow into a bunch of very knotted and inflamed tissue and held it there. (Way more polite than that hissed profanity sound I was making.) She lets me hide under the covers with the lights off when the PNW cloudy, curtained outside light feels like a spotlight. She’s not the judgmental type.
Anyway, not regular IBS. Not really the abdominal migraines I occasionally do for variety. My best guess is I tore some pelvic scar tissue during a MAV inspired purge. I’m gut punched now, but not in searing, stabbing pain (except the shoulder) and no fever. Moving on.
While this may seem an under reaction, I should note it’s common enough for me to have some medical disaster or another that when my 17-year old came downstairs to find me prone on my bed icing and squirming and I asked him to please walk my dog, his response was to say “But I’ll have to put pants on and I just paused my game to get a snack.” If you ever feel like a big deal, just ask a teenager. They are fantastic at keeping you humble. This is the same kid that saw an opportunity to lose his virginity while I was at the ER getting an IV migraine cocktail. (Classy.)
I got back from PT and enjoyed some more purging, but not so violently as before. So yeah, if I spike a fever or the pain ramps back up to intolerable levels, I’ll go to the ER. Otherwise, I’d just as soon save myself the time and expense of yet another MRI, colonoscopy, and/or endoscopy to find nothing in particular wrong with me. These waste bucket diseases are a drag.
Ah, thank you. Venting session complete. I’m going to finish that staff report I was working on and take shade from my husband for not going to the gym tonight. I went Sunday and yesterday, but missed Monday on account of the shoulder pain. He’s a go anyway sort of guy. He says things like ‘you do what you need to do’ but then later will point out I haven’t been doing healthy workouts lately. Then again, he’s been meaning to make a PT appointment himself because his version of healing is hitting it harder.
Oops, that last little bit was some more bitchy venting. Sorry.
Ok, now that’s out of my system. Again, thanks for letting me vent. It really helps.