I didn’t “recover” from pelvic pain spontaneously. Rather, I gradually felt better, I had more “good days” than “bad days,” and I slowly reincorporated physical activity (things as simple as walking) into my life. It took time, and it took the persistent encouragement of my physical therapist for me to take the plunge.Read More
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My last post ended with my arrival in Chicago. After a two-day, cross-country drive from New Mexico, our UHaul pulled into town. We arrived in the midst of the 2014 Polar Vortex, the coldest winter that Chicago had seen in 30 years. My pain was so severe that I couldn’t wear pants or underwear, and the thick sheet of ice covering most of the city didn’t make it any easier to walk normally or navigate a wheelchair.
My husband and I unpacked our UHaul as the snow poured down, and then, surrounded by boxes, we sat on the floor of our apartment (above someone’s garage) and sipped hot chocolate. What had we done?Read More
This treatment, and these PTs, weren't going to be the ones to get me better. This was true despite how badly they wanted to help me and despite how compliant I had been with their treatments. It was true despite how passionately they felt about pelvic floor disorders, how much book knowledge and certificates about my issues they possessed, and how personally involved with my case they felt. These women genuinely, deeply cared for me.Read More
More times than I can count, I’ve been asked: “How long did it take for you to start feeling better?” I met Sandy, my PT, when I was wheelchair-bound and in constant, horrific pain. So, I’m sharing this journal entry, written 15 days after meeting Sandy. And to answer the question: It took less than 15 days.Read More