Wednesday I had pelvic surgery #6 and as the big, glittery robot descended upon me in the OR while 4k fish pattered on the flatscreen, I was convinced that the cause of my pain was endo.
But it wasn’t.
For the first time in 27 years it wasn’t.
It’s pelvic floor dysfunction of the levator ani muscles. The surgeon injected about 30 units of Botox into those muscles yesterday while I was under anesthisia.
That’s more than my forehead gets.
I’ve been researching about these pelvic floor muscles and how to “down train” them and get them to relax.
That’s so not like me. Type A go-getter, fast-paced, former corporate life.
That hurts me most of all.
No more running.
I had dreams of running around the Red Rocks, breathing the amazingly clean air. Buying trail gear and being Gung Ho.
In the past, I wasn’t running for fun; always running from some kind of heartbreak or another.
So now what?
Not standing or sitting too long. No donut pillows. No road trips. No kegels, thank God.. Physical therapy in a calm, crystal setting.
I haven’t worked out how I’ll write my books when the muse strikes. A little at a time I suppose.
What about a sideways chair? Is there even such a thing?
I don’t know yet, but I’ll find out.
Image modified from wikipedia.org