Week 3 on Sertraline and nearing my 8 month pain anniversary

I cancelled the steroid injection procedure.

I am religiously stretching and trying to take care of myself. I am being honest to my body and trying not to be lazy with my posture whether I'm sitting, standing or laying down. I tried on some trousers in Next the other day and realised how ridiculous my anterior pelvic tilt is and how much strain I'm putting on my lower back and associated muscles. Stupid sticky-out bum!!!

With regards to my mood there have been a few changes. Two nights ago I felt very flat; indifferent to all that was going on around me. I also realised that before I started taking these tablets I was crying myself to sleep most nights and I haven't shed a tear since my panic attack and collapse. What's very unusual is that I haven't really felt like crying at all and that in itself is very unusual for me. Obviously I am pleased that I'm not bawling my eyes out or crying at my desk anymore, but I'm a pretty teary person no matter what my depressive state - it must be the tablets taking over! Interesting.

Yesterday evening I went swimming again with my pullbuoy float. I swam for about an hour and even did some gentle leg kicking. I walked and jogged along the pool floor, using the water's resistance and the float to support me. When I got home I did some serious stretching, iced my hip while eating dinner and then slept with a hot water bottle close to the area through the night.

Today I feel achey but not in a sinister way... My body hurts in a good way, I think. I don't believe I've over-exerted myself but I know that I've worked my muscles. It feels brilliant.


Simply, I am in a good mood.

:-)

Week two on Sertraline

The side effects have subsided. I am hungry again and my dizzy spells have reduced. I've always had trouble moderating my body temperature but I have felt very hot lately but that's no biggie compared to last week's events.

However, it's Friday today and I feel incredibly low. The pain returned on Monday evening and has lingered ever since.

I have seen another GP and he has classified me as having mild clinical anxiety and moderate clinical depression. I'm not sure what the 'clinical' bit means but it sounds rather formal, doesn't it! Meanwhile, I continue to go to work but feel the strain an awful lot more. I can snap out of my low mood for brief periods but I'm physically exhausted from it.

I went swimming last night and rested a float between my legs so that I wouldn't kick them. It felt good to use my arm muscles and although I was adamant I'd be really achey today - no such luck! It's funny to crave that tired muscle ache but it's been so long since I really exerted myself I think my body is missing the challenge and is getting more tired of being so sedentary.

Not that I am actually sedentary, but compared to how I was I'm almost a fossil.

I feel like a fossil trapped in a big old hunk of rock. Pretty cosy but feeling alone and unable to crack the rock - at least not yet.

Sickness, Sertraline and some super side affects...?

Living with pain every day for 7 months is hard. It takes its toll on a human.

When you stop exercising and you realise that sport is your only release for tension and stress, there's nowhere for those feelings to go.

The energy you once had seeps out through the pores in your skin. Like a slow puncture, sometimes it's difficult to realise just what's happening; in-denial or otherwise, it takes a lot to face up and see that things are deteriorating and things aren't ok.

I'm not sure whether it's because I'm older now, or whether times have changed, but personally I feel that the stigma around mental health has lifted slightly. I have had a few bouts of depression and anxiety in the past (which I ignored for far too long), so I knew it was time to see my GP when I manned-up to the fact I felt like a flat tyre. 

I had a really good talk with the doctor (on a Saturday morning, no less!) and she listened to my concerns thoroughly. She thought that Sertraline would be the best option to boost my seratonin levels so started me on a 50mg dose once a day. She also said that this boost may actually ease the pain in my hip due to the chemical balance in the brain. When she said that, I had no apprehension - it was certainly worth a shot.

The day I went to the doctors I felt a little dodgy with a slight tummy upset, and in the morning before my appointment I didn't want to eat anything. I took the first tablet on Saturday before a pub lunch and things began to deteriorate later on. In the evening I felt extremely nauseas, didn't eat another thing and went to bed early. On Sunday morning I still had no appetite - a feeling i'd never ever experienced - and was a bit shaky. I assumed it was the fish I'd had at lunchtime before, combined with the tummy upset that was already lurking there. After a trip in the car to the coast for some fresh air I still didn't feel any better, and when I got home I needed to go back to bed.

The severe nausea continued on Monday and Tuesday but I forced myself to eat rice for dinner and banana during the day plus LOADS of water and squash. By Tuesday evening I thought I was over it and contemplated going back to work.

On Wednesday I got up and started to get ready for work. I ate Weetabix and was looking forward to getting out of the house. It was warm outside and as I walked to work I felt well enough. Yet when I got to my desk and was catching up with a colleague I felt very faint. I sat down, whacked the fan on and drunk tons of water. Minutes later I got up and sprinted towards the toilets, adamant I was going to puke everywhere, but before I got to the door I lost my vision and hearing and flung myself into the nearest office (which happened to be HR!) and got on the floor.

For the next 2 hours I felt nauseas and faint and moved between laying down flat and sitting up against the wall. Being on the floor didn't do wonders for my hip, I can tell you that for free! As I laid on the floor I had double-vision and felt generally mega weird. A temporary bed was made and my colleagues and the first aider helped me onto it while they contacted my GP. After that I'm unsure what happened but I know that I was on the phone to 111, shivering uncontrollably, losing sensation in my legs and arms and slurring my speech. I freaked out and had a panic attack. I could see my chest going nuts and couldn't control it for a good few minutes. 

The paramedic arrived and I started to calm down once I could actually comprehend what was happening. Obs were ok, but a little low, and after a few more tests I ended up going to hospital in an ambulance. After lots more tests with an amazing emergency doctor and his team, it was decided that thanks to the hideous concoction of tummy bug + not eating + the introduction of Sertraline + the hottest day of the year = collapse. 

It's Thursday evening now, and to add to the fun I've come on my period which also means that hormones probably played a good part in yesterday's events. The good thing is that I'm well enough to look at a screen and I think I'm understanding the side affects of this medication after a bit of Googling. It's always a bit traumatic reading the leaflets that accompany medication; WARNING - MAY CAUSE DEATH etc. but on various forums there were plenty of people who'd experienced loss of appetite and crazy dizziness. In most cases, these side affects tend to subside, apparently. It may take days, it may take weeks, but today I was able to recognise my dizzy spells, my sick spells, and just waited for them to pass. Sometimes this meant going back to bed or laying down but at least today I knew what was happening.

Let's see how this goes...!

MRI arthrogram 'results'

Hmph.

Positives:
I don't have arthritis
I don't need a hip replacement
No tears in the labarum

Negatives:
Still no diagnosis
Next step is steroid injection

The consultant said the MRI results were good: no impingement anywhere and the hip is well lubricated. He then said that this is something that is probably going to go away on its own. I wasn't sure how to react to this. The fact that it's still a 'something' is not really good enough for me; what the heck is it? Why can't I get any treatment for the muscular pain now, if he thinks that's what it is?

Argh.

I've chosen to have the steroid injection under anaesthetic, so that my body doesn't react the way it did when I had my arthrogram. 4 days on and I keep worrying that I've made the wrong choice and whether I should go away and get some physiotherapy myself; try some acupuncture; try hypnotherapy... all those things.

Deep down, I do feel that this problem - whatever it is - is going to take a long, long, time to heal. When I am honest with myself, I know that I'm the one who damaged myself and I know exactly how much exercise I did after I felt that initial pain.

Stupid girl.

From September to December I played netball games, did pilates (straining the psoas), went swimming (kicking my legs and doing breast stroke), did yoga (turning my feet out, putting huge pressure on my groin and pelvis), I ran (on the road, on the treadmill). For 3 months I was exercising with a serious injury, in denial the whole time.

Stupid girl.

I'm booked in for the injection on the 1st May. I have to decide whether I want to go ahead with this treatment or not.

MRI arthrogram - my experience

I wore a hospital gown and fluffy robe. The room was cool and dimly lit. I was introduced to my radiologist who spoke to me very directly about what the contrast dye was going to highlight - if anything. The assistant was comforting and told me I'd be fine.

Unfortunately, I really wasn't fine. After months of pain, my hip has become so sensitive that it can even be painful to touch. The muscles surrounding it all go into protect-mode and often spasm when I'm stressed or nervous. So, you can imagine what happened when the doctor inserted the local anaesthetic. For some reason, I seem to be incredibly reactive when anaesthetic is given. It's either because I overthink it and my brain goes nuts, or my pain threshold just can't deal with the needle's invasion. I have a good pain threshold, normally, but this was excruciating.

I cried and cried but didn't move a muscle. The doctor had to keep injecting more anaesthetic into the area - 4 or 5 times he went into the joint to numb it. It was particularly difficult for me to understand whether it was numb because often I get a numb feeling down the front of my quads. All at the same time the area tingled and stung and I felt an even deeper, raw ache through the whole joint. I felt the dye fill the area and tensed up even more. I controlled my breathing and my tears and willed it to be over. I was so embarrassed at my reaction I kept apologising over and over to the doctor and his assistant.

A couple of years ago I had a traumatic accident where I fainted in a steam room and fell through the thick glass door. It took doctors and nurses over three hours to remove the largest pieces of glass from my body, clean the wounds, sew the lesions up. They used local anaesthetic in my shin, my hips, my elbow, my chin, my forehead, and most of all my buttock where I had 30 stitches alone. Morphine and gas and air didn't seem to help with the pain management. I wonder if my memory of that made everything 10x worse.

After the injection - apart from being totally embarrassed - I was OK. The thigh felt numb but wasn't painful at all. I was whisked off in a wheelchair and to the MRI scanner which was in a mobile unit so I had to go through the puddles outside. I had two assistants help me in the scanner and explained it would take about 35 minutes. I was given ear plugs, then headphones, and chose classical music to listen to whilst in the scanner. One of the assistants joked that they'd had an older lady in earlier who'd chosen heavy metal to listen to and after my 35 minutes I knew why: MRI scanners are VERY loud and clunky! All I could here were vibrations and the odd high-pitched viola through the headphones.

Loud, yep; claustrophobic, nope. Not really. After my trauma in radiology I revelled in my 35 minutes of relative 'peace'. I closed my eyes and tried not to think of how yucky my hip felt. It was chilled!

Once the scanner had done it's thing I was wheeled back to radiology and was all done. With the help of my sister I got dressed and left the hospital.

The numbness in the area started to disappear after about an hour, and unfortunately, the pain - a different kind of pain that I hadn't felt before - began to increase. A deep, strange pain that lasted about 48 hours as the dye leaked out. Horrible. I took lots of painkillers which took the edge of it. Once that had subsided, I was back to my normal pain which was actually a welcome relief. A week on and I've still got bruising down my thigh, but I'm like a peach so I'm quite sure it's nothing to worry about.

Bring on the results!
 

Countdown / Meltdown

I count down the days to the MRI. I feel nervous and anxious but most of all excited. Having spent the last six months in pain, I count every hour that passes as my appointment nears.

I get a phone call the afternoon before my scan. They have to rearrange my appointment as The Doctor will not be able to attend. I'm not sure who this Doctor is, but I assume he is the injection-giving doctor who has to deliver the radioactive fluid and oversee the arthrograms. Because the MRI is a mobile unit, I have to book in the following week and the lady on the phone doesn't quite understand why I'm sobbing down the receiver.

To be honest, I probably should've been prepared to be let down at some point, but I didn't expect it from a private hospital. Perhaps I shouldn't have been so hopeful at all! Perhaps I should accept that, actually, the MRI may not show what the doctor hopes. And what if the scan is postponed again... and again? What if I have a negative reaction to the contrast dye and they're unable to do the scan at all?! Perhaps I shouldn't rely on hope to carry me through this process - it's so sparse anyway, the energy it takes for me to gather the specs of it to create even a sense of hope is far too exhausting. I may as well maintain a pessimistic outlook, and be surprised when good news comes my way. At least then when I'm hit hard I won't have so far to fall.

My life is full of highs and lows at the moment. Peaks and troughs of the absolute kind. Like an earthquake measured on a Richter scale that will just not stop shuddering. Ugh.

A terrible afternoon followed by a night of restlessness. My hip pain seems to correlate with how I'm feeling mentally.

I let myself cry and my face is soaking wet and my eyes are sore but I am silent because for everyone else this is so boring and I'm bored of telling them my problems and I'm bored of losing concentration and I'm bored of taking painkillers and the more I get worked up the tenser I get and my hip feels as if it's made of lead, weighing me down and luring me into the dark place I know I should stay.

'Going private'

My workplace has managed to enrol me on their private health scheme. I have to pay a premium, but I'm sure it will be worth it.

The helpline point me in the direction of 6 hip and knee specialists who work across 2 hospitals near me. I choose who I want, call their secretary, and they book me in for a consultation in a couple of days time. Brilliant!

I see the consultant for half an hour and ask him lots of questions. After examining me he's not sure what's going on. It could be a combination of things, but he cannot tell. The MRI arthrogram will reveal all - nothing can hide.

I ask how long I'll be waiting to get booked in and he replies: 'oh just pop round the corner to Radiology and they'll book you in for next week'...