October 5, 2022.
That was the last day I laced up my sneakers and went for a run. It was a slow and easy three miles, the kind I'd been enjoying more and more in my early 40s. No beating myself up over pace or distance, just going out to clear my head and get my blood flowing. I finished that run, and I haven't been the same since.
My left hip had been whispering to me during some runs prior to that day, but as someone with many miles under her belt - and a bachelor's degree worth of understanding about the musculoskeletal system - I figured I was just overdoing it and needed to take it easy. But as I finished that easy run on October 5th, literally as I was slowing down in front of my house and stopping my Garmin, my hip screamed at me. So I tried reasoning with that hip. I told it I'd take a week off of my already easy runs and spend more time stretching and strengthening and treating it real nice. One week didn't quite do the trick so I took another week off. And then another. My symptoms (groin pain, pain with hip flexion past 90 degrees, clicking and catching with certain motions) were not so subtly hinting that it was a torn labrum, so I scheduled an appointment with my PT. I started a glute strengthening program to see if that helped at all, and since I had already met my deductible thanks to a very costly yet unrelated issue earlier in the year, I scheduled an MRI for confirmation.
I normally love being right. Not this time. Although to be honest, I did experience a brief twinge of relief...I've known several people who have gone to a doctor for what seemed to be a musculoskeletal issue only to learn they had advanced cancer. I thanked my lucky stars nothing like that showed up on my scan. But after the gratitude came the reality check of what the diagnosis of a torn labrum means for me. First, to catch you up on a little Anatomy 101, your hip joint is a ball and socket joint. The ball is the very top part of your femur (thigh bone), and the socket is where the femur connects to the pelvis. The labrum is a ring of cartilage that sits inside the socket, deepening and cushioning the hip joint. A tear in that cartilage can cause pain, clicking, and catching of the hip joint as the head of the femur moves around in the socket. Unlike a torn muscle that can heal thanks to the ample blood flow it receives, the labrum has minimal blood supply and will not heal on its own, making your two options surgery to repair it or modifying your activity to manage symptoms. Insert sad tuba.
Even with a deductible that was fully met, I knew better than to go the surgical route right out of the gate. Success rates for labral repairs aren't stellar, and there's no guarantee I'd be able to run without pain again even after surgery. I started seeing a magician of a physical therapist, who basically told me the muscle imbalances throughout my body were pronounced, and if we can wake up some muscles here and tell some muscles to shut the fuck up there, I could get some relief. She was confident that if I diligently did my homework and had some patience (what's that?), I'd be able to run again in some capacity. The exercises she prescribed, along with dry needling and cupping, provided instant results.
I'm not kidding. Magic. Or maybe black magic since the dry needling makes you feel a bit like a voodoo doll. I was in less pain and had greater pain-free range of motion. Like deep squat range of motion. I even worked my way back into running, one little minute at a time, until I ran a whole mile without taking walk breaks. I was filled with hope and even cancelled the appointment I made with an orthopedic surgeon. I had a little setback in April, and with so many other things going on (spring cleaning, spring break travel, and major home improvement projects), instead of working to get my body back on track, I neglected my PT homework for a while. At the time I was only having symptoms when I tried to run, so I just didn't run. Problem solved. Ha ha no.
The pain, clicking, and catching came back with a vengeance, and it was no longer just when I ran (because I wasn't even running anymore). Walking hurt. Biking hurt. Squatting hurt. Standing hurt. Sitting hurt. Getting up from sitting hurt. The pain was constant, and it ranged from moderate discomfort to nauseating pain. So back to PT I crawled (crawling hurt too, in case you were wondering).
Six more weeks of PT later, I'm not feeling consistently better. The needling, cupping, and exercises provide temporary relief, but they don't seem to have lasting effects, and I'm starting to doubt they ever really can if the labrum is still torn. I'm at a point where I can concede not being able to run miles at a time, but I cannot tolerate this constant discomfort and the significant modification of my lifestyle. At work, sitting criss cross applesauce with my littlest friends is out of the question, and so is squatting to get down to their level. If a kid is a flight risk, there's no way I'm catching them, and forget having any fun with them at recess. I typically come home from work and lie flat on my back for a while before tackling the evening's agenda. My workouts - which I need to combat the cesspool that is my genetic makeup - are mediocre at best. Cardio is non-existent, but if I'm having a good day I can sometimes walk, bike, or swim - as long as I know it will no longer be a good day by the time I'm done. I've put on weight. My blood pressure is up. My cholesterol is up. Yoga - my dear, sweet, magical yoga - causes more pain and sadness than it's worth (oh how I miss child's pose, and happy baby is no longer happy).
Of course I'm thankful this condition is not life threatening and in the grand scheme of things I'm fine, but my quality of life has taken a nose dive this year and I don't feel like myself. I scheduled an appointment with an orthopedic surgeon for later this month to gather some more information about the best course of action for me (especially since all these visits to PT have made a nice little dent in my deductible). Stay tuned.
No comments:
Post a Comment