So, this morning, yet again, I woke up with extreme, debilitating pain in my hip. In desperation I rang my GP, and she squeezed me in before the rest of the morning’s appointments. We decided to go for scans and then potentially referral to an orthopaedic doctor, but unfortunately I didn’t get that far.
My pain reached the point where I was actually in tears, struggling in vain to convince myself that I was fine, hoping that if I just told myself to be strong it would go away on its own. Luckily, I have some amazing people in my life who know the difference between when I’m being brave, and when I’m just putting on a brave face.
My mum came home from work early and took me to the hospital. Thank God for the doctors and nurses at Royal North Shore Hospital. They took such good care of me, making sure that I had a bed (because sitting had me shaking with pain), instantly getting me pain relief and listening when I said that it wasn’t working, and repeatedly going out of their way to keep us updated when something was taking longer than anticipated.
Unfortunately, we didn’t really get any answers as to why I’m in so much pain, and because I don’t have an official diagnosis of where on the spectrum of hypermobility I fall, the doctors seemed a bit unsure as to how to deal with my joint issues.
The good news is that I’m now on incredibly strong pain medication, as well as a light sedative so that I can finally get some rest, and I’m seeing my physio tomorrow who has been treating me since I was 13. Also, I managed to get my rheumatology appointment moved forward to next week, so hopefully I’ll start to get some answers soon.
Right now I’m holed up in bed with my duvet and electric blanket, enjoying the sound of rain on the roof. Even though it’s only 5pm, I’m ready to go to bed knowing that tomorrow is a new day, and no matter what it brings, we’ve already hit rock bottom so it can only get better from here.