February 1, 2009


A couple years back when I had my wisdom teeth removed, although I was totally out of my gourd, I was conscious throughout the entire process. When the surgery was over, I distinctly remember the look on the doctor’s face. He looked worn, he wiped his brow, took a deep breath and just sat back in awe of all he had accomplished. In my mouth. (That’s what he said). He looked tired and a bit surprised.

I went home and nearly died for 4 days before I had to go back to work. The right side of my face swelled up to the size of a grapefruit. I didn’t eat anything but mashed potatoes and mac and cheese from KFC for a month because I could barely fit a spoon in my mouth, much less chew. About 2 weeks after the surgery, I returned to the doctor who was extremely pleased to see me and the results. He was thrilled that I was ok.

BECAUSE! When I left his office the day of the surgery, he wasn’t overly confident of the whole affair.

It just so happened that I had a huge nerve wrapped all around the roots of my wisdom tooth.

He had to break up the tooth and gingerly pick out the pieces, praying that he didn’t sever the nerve. He was a bit freaked out after the surgery, hoping that he hadn’t damaged my face. To his credit, he didn’t.

I have been having problems off and on since my days in New Mexico. When Not Craig and I were working our butts off trying to run 5 miles non-stop (a goal which has never ever happened), I injured myself.

The pain would go away, but it would return if I started working out again, or if I crossed my legs, or if I fell asleep on my right side or if it was Tuesday.

It just kept reoccurring.

Not Craig has been telling me to go to the doctor since it started. I hate doctors. I hate waiting, I hate explaining my problem and I hate having to recall when my last period was even though I am there for a sore throat because, ahem, those 2 areas are NOT related.

Recently, I have been walking the dog twice a day, averaging about a mile and a half each walk. I would alternate running with walking in order to try to wear the dog out. Which is another post in itself because, hello, his breed herds sheep all day long, how is one human going to possibly provide a challenge to him.

When I woke up on Thursday, the old pain was back. It was mild, but it was there. I persisted and walked Colt that morning, but bowed out on the evening walk. Friday, I woke up and walked Colt with pain, lots o’ pain. Friday during the day, I went to the doctor. Finally, after a year and a half. I hurt.

The doctor took about 2 minutes of listening to me, rubbing my butt (which I am not so sure was as much a diagnostic tool as a girl-on-girl feel up) and diagnosed me.

Piriformis. My muscle is intertwined with my sciatic nerve. 10% of the population have this particular set up.

Seriously, it is otherwise known as Deep Buttock Syndrome. Ya’ll I wish I was just making this up. Fo Realz. Insert all the jokes you wish, Not Craig and I could use some new ones.

And plus? This condition is chronic. I can try to prevent it or minimize it, but I am officially diagnosed with a chronic condition of old lady-dom. I also can now be all crotchy and complain how my sciatica is killing me.

Point being, I have two nerve issues that are rare in the general populace.

Does anyone know of any other weird nerve issues where the nerves aren’t where they should be? I assume all my nerves are misplaced at this point and would like to have something specific to freak out about.


Karmyn R said...

All I can say is "OUCH". But when you start yelling at those "crazy kids" who are walking too fast by your house, only THEN can you consider yourself old lady.

Sauntering Soul said...

This sounds awful and I'm really sorry you have a pain in the butt.

Pamela said...

I'm having some pain and weirdness down my right leg. My husband said it was probably my sciatic nerve. I thought.. THE NERVE OF THAT NERVE! ha ha

Hope your exercise and all will help. Let me know!

Green said...

So what you're saying is ... you have Deep Ass Syndrome?

I have arthritis from the middle of my back down through to my ankles. Sometimes it hurts in such a way that it feels like I got shot right where my thigh connects to my ass. It causes me to drag my right leg a tiny bit when I walk.

My ass sends your ass sympathy.

My theory on why doctors always ask about periods: I've decided they don't feel we show them enough respect, so they ask about periods and such to knock us down, and remind us who's in charge. I wish them much ass pain.

Kaytabug said...

Excuse me. I need to ass you a question!

Is exercise supposed to help your ass issue?

blog template by suckmylolly.com : header image by Vlad Studio