
Apparently, one of my ribs shifted in my sleep last night. This has become a fairly common occurrence, but some occurrences hurt more than others. This one must have really pulled when it subluxated. Unfortunately, on top of this pain, I had physical therapy today.
The EDS Message Boards are full of people complaining about their physical therapists - I am no different. Mine is a tiny young woman, named Kruti. I've spoken to another woman who takes PT at the same facility - she came to speak to me after hearing me moaning while Kruti was working on me one day. She said they assigned her to Kruti when she first came there, she had one session and immediately switched PTs. Unfortunately, few of the PTs that I have access to have any knowledge of hypermobility or do myofascial trigger therapy and I have to have that. But, even tho I have provided her with the PT protocol for EDS, she refuses to follow it. She doesn't assess my gait or balance at all, insists on trying exercises with ankle weights (contraindicated for EDS - I try each one ONCE, she hurts me, I never do it again). It's all painful, but Kruti makes it moreso. Today, I cried through the myofascial work - it doesn't happen often, but sometimes I just can't take it. On top of the rib pain, even Kruti knew there would be no exercises today.
People with the hypermobility type of EDS develop very high pain thresholds - I had an orthopedist tell me in the late 80's that my pain threshold was way too high and I tended not to see a doctor until I had already done serious damage. People with EDS are often disbelieved when we tell doctors something is wrong because we're "not in enough pain". The pain of a body desperately trying to hold itself together when its connective tissue "glue" doesn't work - which creates seized muscles and spasms - along with the "microtears and microtrauma" to our tissues that can only be seen with expensive high-def MRI equipment, causes our brains to shut down our pain centers because it's just frickin' constant. When something major happens, we notice the pain, but don't react as strongly as "normal" people because our bodies are already constantly flooded with pain chemicals. We look normal. We sound normal. We make jokes about our pain. We don't want to be a bother.
Today is a high pain day. Tomorrow will probably be better.