Wednesday, June 21, 2017

Gummie sister

Saw the surgeon yesterday.

He doesn't think the pain is coming from my abdominal cavity. Ultra sound showed no abnormalities. He thinks its in the pelvic cavity, which is out of his league. He read the original surgeons report and saw he didn't go into the abdominal cavity so there is zero chance of any surgical adhesions there.

There isn't currently a surgeon in my town who does pelvic surgery, but one is coming and when s/he is here I will get referred over. In the mean time he is referring me to a physical therapist who specializes in pelvic pain. That will help narrow down the area/muscles involved.

Chasing down the source of the pain is getting more focused. I am feeling hopeful again.

I do worry once they find it...the scar tissue will be so bad they can't fix it. I've found that just KNOWING what is causing me pain eliminates some of it. For example, I am able to ignore my neck pain because I know what is wrong.

My older sister came over and we spent the day together. We laughed like rabid hyenas at our own warped sense of humor.  She damn near made me pee my pants in Costco!

Siblings are a wonderful thing.

They are people you might not have ever been friends with in real life. 

However you share ~18 years of close contact with said person,  you have seen them barf, hung there underwear on the clothes line, and slept in the same room with.

You know how they apply their deodorant and brush their teeth. You've bathed with them, worn their socks, and by gawd you know how to yank there chain and make'um mad.

You've shared snacks, toys and a bathroom with them.

Your Alias Smith and Jones, Johnny and Roy, Barnabas Collins and Daphne.

They are not anyone you would call on to be a character witness, a professional reference, but there first on your list for calling when you have dangerous or illegal nincompoopery to get into.

So back at Costco yesterday she hands me a sample of carne asada.  First off at almost 52 years old I had to ask her what it was.

"Your not feeding me goat are you?"

Turns out cows have more "meat-personalities" then most mammals.

I showed her how my dentures don't meet any longer and chewing up stuff like that is too difficult. My dentures only meet and one small point in the front. My jaw bones have deteriorated and I should have gotten new teeth eons ago. But at the prince of +3000$ I've just never bothered.

I can chew stuff endlessly and never break it down.

So as I "chewed" on the meat we slithered down more aisles getting stuff that wasn't on our lists and just chatting and laughing.

She picked up another sample of some weird alien fruit and extended it to me.

I politely opened my mouth and extended my tongue with the lump of carne asada.

She didn't miss a beat and ordered me to: "Spit out your meat gum and try this!"

"attention house keeping we have a pee spill on aisle eleven!"

With all the nerve and muscle damage in my pelvis I am a HUGE risk for peeing myself...and then you add hysterical laughing induced by your sister and you have the perfect storm.


Even if they can't fix my pelvic issues, I will be okay. I will find away to laugh and live with it.

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