Mrs. Two Lumps

I popped my left hip out last night.  I was walking, from the kitchen to the living room.  It wasn’t one of those Ministry of Silly Walks walks either.  Well, maybe after my hip popped.  It went out, then in, which is preferred.  I have had my right hip stuck in the partially in/partially out position before.  Don’t recommend that.   In retrospect what seems silly to me (not haha silly but bordering on absurd) is that I am now at risk of dislocating simply while I ambulate.  I am careful when I get off the couch, get out of bed, get out of cars, roll over in bed, get out of the shower, go up and down stairs and on and on.  I don’t like it when people walk behind me when I am in a group.  I get severely nervous.  I’ve been bumped too many times and then bam, knee is out.  Plus I’m slow and I don’t want to hold up anyone and the thought of them watching me gimp from behind is hella embarrassing.

When I was younger, we are talking elementary and middle school age, I wasn’t as embarrassed about being so freakish.  I took to it.  Took advantage of it.  Friends would ask me to do tricks:  Jump chinese splits, clasp my hands behind my back and while keeping them clasped bring them over my head to the front of my body, fold my fingers over each other and bend my wrists back and forward, stand with my face against the wall then do a back-bend bringing my head between my feet, lie on my stomach and bring my feet over my head and rest them in front of my face (this last one I would do while watching TV.)  I knew I was different and by volunteering to do these tricks I saved myself from being teased when all of a sudden I would go missing from school for an EDS related illness or I would break a bone from something so simple as tripping.

Now that I think on it, I guess I have my own silly walk.  Priory of Preposterous Promenades?  Cloister of Wacky Shufflers?  The thing is for me to remember to laugh at myself, and the ridiculousness of it all.

 

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silly walks

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It has been over a month since I haven’t wanted to cry for most of the day from the pain.  Over a month that the pain from Ehlers-Danlos has kept me from the majority of my everyday functions.  I am grateful (it isn’t a strong enough word) for my family and their assistance, their patience and most of all their humor.  Laughing keeps me sane, keeps me grounded and reminds me that the pain will subside.  And it does.  It always does.  Sometimes (more often now) it takes longer than I expect.  So days like yesterday can happen, where I drove myself to the store, played music and sang along, walked the aisles of the store without having to hold the shelves for support and have people stare.  Days like yesterday where I looked people in the eyes and smiled, and meant it, remembering how wonderful life can be when you are out in the world and can see the sky, feel the breeze and watch life go on knowing you are a part of it without the distraction of oppressive pain.  My eyes felt so wide as I was able to notice everything outside of me.

 

Yesterday was a good day.

Abby Normal

Look who’s back.  Back again.  I’m not the real Slim Shady, I also don’t play one on TV and I’ll have that song stuck in my head now for at least three days.  I’m mostly writing this so my Uncle Frank can rest easily tonight.  I’m nice like that, and I have my goal/mission to complete.

With Ehlers-Danlos comes lots of pain.  In lots of places.  I don’t mean to say Saskatoon.  Okay maybe Saskatoon.  Places as in the topography of my body.  It hurts.  All.  The.  Time.  The struggle with the constant stream of pain is deciphering new pain being layered on top of old.  Decoding my normal abnormal from possible and new and dangerous abnormal abnormal.  Second judgements and talking out of concerns or into some.  Should I care about this new pain as much as the last time?  Should I bother with the doctor or another ER visit?  Nah.  It will be nothing (nothing meaning EDS and there isn’t much else to do but slap a pain pill on it.)  So, I hem.  Then I haw.  Then I hurt and hurt until I finally give in (that’s how I look at it anyway) and I go to the doc. I decide I’d rather look foolish than dead.

I’m not dead.   I’m not foolish either.

Okay, maybe not %100 foolish.  More like %70/30.