Pills and needles. My life has become pills and needles. Who knew a hamstring would take over my life so completely? Who knew doing the splits after dance would land me here over seven months later?
My hamstring therapy has been unsuccessful to say the least. As per the last update, I went to the orthopedic, got a steroid shot directly into my hamstring, and was referred to physical therapy for dry needling. Since that point, I have continued the dry needling sessions, been started on pain and anti-inflammatory meds, and have started massage therapy in my physical therapy sessions.
Briefly, it appeared as if all the therapies and treatments were helping. The first few rounds of dry needling seemed to loosen up the injury. The first few days on the medication included relief. However, after the initial effect, things always deteriorate back to the same baseline. It is as if my body has a quota of pain, and despite any efforts or temporary improvements, it always returns back to that default.
The pain is exceedingly relentless and inconvenient. Whenever I sit up or stand. Whenever I try to lay down. Whenever I roll over in bed. If I move just a certain way. To me, it feels like my hamstring itself is snagged on something up near the attachment to my pelvis. If I move or activate the muscle just the right way, the pain is a horrible ripping zing, as if it was pulled too tight or at the wrong angle.
And yet we continue on this way.
My activity is unaffected. I continue to run and barre and dance as I would. Mostly because it does not cause pain. My hamstring does not hurt when I run or dance, though certain positions and transitions in barre will solicit that zing. Plus, I am simply over it. Nothing I seem to do makes it better or worse, so I have almost resolved just to live my life with it however I want. Adapt right over it.
But this does not feel normal to me. While horrible inconvenient and frustrating, the timeline of the injury is not really my concern. I can live with it still healing after seven months. My concern comes from the fact that it is not improving. At all. It alarms me that it has baselined at this very uncomfortable and unsatisfactory place. I cannot live with this being the new normal. I need some glimmer of hope that this will pass and it will indeed get better again.
My physical therapist does seem frustrated. And confused. Yet I don’t know how long we will just apply new therapy attempts until he resigns to sending me back to the orthopedic for the MRI. And even if I get the MRI, it may show absolutely nothing helpful.
I feel trapped by this injury. I appreciate that I am mostly functional and am able to plow through the majority of it, but the pain is definitely a factor. I went to get the medication because the pain is influencing my behavior, my mood, my personality. The constant pain signals agitate my brain, shorten my temper. I do not like who it makes me, especially as a partner and mother. I cannot afford to be a bitch all the time because my leg hurts. Not to mention how distracted it makes me in my work.
The situation needs to change; however, I do not know how much I can do beyond wait and see. I feel like every update I write on this topic sounds identical. It hurts; nothing is changing; I can’t do anything. Yet that is where I am.
I stopped taking the medication. Since it seemed to stop serving its purpose, I did not see any reason to put the extra chemicals in my body. I will continue with physical therapy and trust my therapy. I will torture ball and foam roll and stretch on my own to help loosen up the tension around the pain. I will try to rest and try not to aggravate it–no promises.
It has to help at some point. Right? RIGHT?