Forget the part of yesterday's post when I said the physical therapy wasn't too bad. Holy shit, I am in debilitating pain. My sit bones hurt, yes. My girly part, well, I can't even describe the sensation. I also feel like my ovaries are going to pop out of my belly like twin versions of that thing from Alien. My ass is killing me. My inner thighs are so stiff I can barely walk.
Inexplicably, my right leg is in excruciating pain, but on the outside edge a few inches above my knee. That's exactly opposite the side/area the therapist worked.
Worst of all, this trigger-point therapy had set my shingles pain into a fiery overdrive.
Waaaaah! Waaaaah! Waaaah! May is not whining, she's wailing. Don't ask me why, but expressing the fact that I have pain is its own type of comfort.
Now I'm a little worried. The therapist told me that before next week's session, I have to get a prescription for lidocaine cream for my va-jay-jay. I'm going to need it. Or so she says.
Oh-dear-god this better be worth it.
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