Digging Deep

When I was 6 years old, I was diagnosed with a disease in my left hip called Legg Calve Perthes, which caused me to undergo fairly intensive treatment for two years. The good news was that by the time I was a teenager, the head of my femur had grown back pretty well, in the words of my physician, "about as good as could be expected."  However, I still had pain, and still do suffer with pain nearly 30 years later.

Chronic pain is no fun, even if it is not excruciating pain.  Constant low-level pain and muscle weakness can affect a person's daily life in ways that may not be very obvious.  Sometimes the physical pain is not as difficult as acknowledging that there is a deficiency.  I still tear up talking about the day that I was diagnosed and told that I needed to be admitted to the hospital.  That was hard.

Nine years ago, I saw a physician about the physical pain because I wanted to be assured that what I was feeling was not osteoarthritis.  At the time, I was told that the bone and cartilage looked like they were in good shape, but I could benefit from physical therapy to improve the tightness and muscle weakness, which was causing my pain.  I don't know why I didn't go to physical therapy at the time.  Looking back, I believe the underlying reason was that I didn't go was that I didn't want to deal with the emotional aspect of the pain. 

About a month ago, I decided I was finally going to go to physical therapy.  At my first appointment, I was an emotional wreck.  The pain was not as bad as my tears indicated, and I knew there were emotions that needed healing as much or more than my leg.  So far, the physical progress is going well.  I am being diligent about my exercises and my range of motion is improving and my pain is less on some days, but even when I am experience pain now, I can feel things are changing.

One of the things I read regarding Legg Calve Perthes disease is that one of the common effects is muscle atrophy in the hip joint.  Well, considering the muscle weakness that is present, I am quite sure this happened to me.

For all of these years, I have lived with this weakness, and "managed" it by compensating with my right leg.  I think this is common for us in other areas of our lives.  We compensate for our weaknesses or wounds rather than getting to the root of the issue. Compensating usually creates more dysfunction.

Healing can be easy and instantaneous, but it can also be hard work.  Perhaps a more complete healing comes when we are required to be honest about our vulnerabilities and willing to sacrifice.