Somewhere in a city near you-

I traveled out of town this week. Helping family move. I have looked forward to this trip for a couple months. Road trip across the United States and a chance to see what real Fall looks like! Being an Arizona girl, we don’t get fall. We have summer and winter. And Winter lasts three months and it’s gone. Every ten years or so, it’ll actually snow in the desert. Snow on saguaros is stunning! Js

I worked a bit on the trip- 3 days actually and then my boss told me to take the last three days and enjoy my family. It’s odd to be at a place that actually says that and means it. While in office, I enjoy my time there but always second guessing myself. Guess that’s the trauma response. My previous work experiences leave me in a vulnerable position sometimes. Having a ex-CFO throw shit at me, a ex-CEO tell me that when I ‘open my mouth, nothing of value comes out.’ I have stories like this… repeatedly, regardless of where I was (company wise), I was the target. So being here is super odd and I still feel like bolting out the door – hell, even when I am on vacation-but I’m too stubborn to quit. So I push through and tell myself to silence the voices in my head and I tell myself it’s okay. I have one goal: I’ll kick ass, surprise my leadership with my knowledge and open a whole new division of the company. I have it all planned in my head! I imagine I’ll keep playing with the idea in my head and when it’s time, I’ll build my business presentation/business plan. I’ll present it at the right time and it’ll be picked up and I’ll be set. Hopefully to never have to start over at the bottom again.

I wish I could have enjoyed my time with my family and enjoyed a stress free trip. But that wasn’t to be. Anxiety and arguments with my kid make life super difficult and make me wish for something different. Not that my baby isn’t worth the effort but because I am unsure if I am making it worse. There is no play book here. No research I can do that will help me fix this mess. I feel like being sick her whole life and on opiates and then medical marijuana… she’s just seen so much more than most kids and my heart breaks for her.

Because of all that- I learned that crying in a different city is exactly the same as crying at home. Melt down mode active & No one asks if you’re okay. No one asks if you need anything. No one even makes eye contact.

With Tears streaming down my face, sitting outside on a curb, in a town near you I sat and cried for over an hour. I cried for my baby. She didn’t ask for this fucked up, sick mom. I cried for my husband- surely he deserves a less crazy bitch as a wife, right? I cried for my body, that always hurts. Every day, the pain is different but familiar enough to remind me that I have met that pain level before. I cried for my future. I cried for my past. I cried for the little girl that I once was. I cried angry tears… I cried spiteful tears and I cried pure pain. I felt utter defeat when it was all done.

I picked myself off the busy curb and went back inside. After all, dinner needs to be made and laundry done. Even on vacation.

Stay well. Be kind to yourself. And cry if you need to.



The grandest of diamonds…

This may be a bawl baby, poor pitiful peach post but I am pooped and fucking tired of this mean ass world. I’ll apologize now as I rarely publish these pity party posts…

I lost my shit no less than 2 times a day for the last two weeks. Some days were more than two but every day it’s been at least two times a day. Then I peaked at 5 times yesterday. That’s 5- full on, throw a massive bitch fit and god help whom ever the soul was that tripped the wire to send me over the edge. And each one is followed by an extensive panic attack.

I don’t want to live like this anymore. This isn’t what I agreed to when I decided to live. Yet here I am. Killin it, one fucking melt down at a time. But I survive, still. I will fight to survive, but I’d rather do it quietly and with no more fighting.

The battle inside is real. And Very much hidden from the world. Still waters run deep.

Again. It’s never one thing for me. Physically, I hurt. My joints hurt. specifically the SÍ joints. Those assholes just don’t ever stop. So bad… my legs are numb but not in a good way. Getting Charlie horses sporadically in the pelvic floor. Stomach processing food better but still being a little bitch. Every meal is an internal battle to force food down my gullet and pray that crap stays there. Nausea pills are my bff again. I have such inflammation that I am looking like I am 6 months with child. And that ship sailed ten years ago with my hysterectomy.

Then my new job- it’s not toxic at all and I don’t want to make it that way. But can we talk about wanting to bolt?! I have never worked in a non-toxic environment. I wanted to run every day for the first two weeks but talked myself out of it every day. Now it’s like 2-3 times a week I want to bolt. *Sigh* Maybe, if I am real lucky, it’ll drop to once a week or ~~gasp~ none at all. I feel like I haven’t met my metrics, or done enough. I constantly rethink everything I’ve said in meetings and then worry it was the wrong thing. I get mad at myself because I can’t sit still in meetings, I stand up to work at my desk. I ask my boss weekly what I can do better or different and always the same answer: nothing, keep doing what you’re doing. I feel fucking crazy and let me tell you, crazy is exhausting.

I met both my new psychiatrist and my new counselor. I, of course had an ugly PTSD reaction at both visits and tried to cancel the appointments. I Got in a fight with the receptionist at one visit which spilled into my counseling visit. Then a similar situation when I met with my new psychiatrist. For some reason, out of the blue I start feeling like therapy is going to bring out demons. The scary ones from when I was a little girl and unable to protect myself. I have this sudden and extremely heavy fear that what ever block that’s been in place protecting me will crumble and I’ll be faced with the reality. I can only speculate what that reality means and I’m not ready to talk about it because I only have ‘snapshots’ in my head. Like a picture that I know is bad but no other context is known. When I work more details out, I’ll share a blog on it.

The new psych doc put me on a new psych meds—- yuppie- Not. This on it’s called Pramipexole (generic for Mirapex). We chose it as it’s not an SSRI/SSRA and since PGAD and restless leg syndrome go hand in hand, I asked to try this. It’s a dopamine promoter. Also, she gave me Lorazepam. It’s been about 6 days since she gave me the newest meds and I’ll give it another week before I call her. I’m not sure it’s working like I want but I am titrating the dose up so I have to wait for my therapeutic levels to be found.

♥️ ♥️♥️

Despite all of that (and a shit ton more but I’m tired of crying, so it’s time to wrap it up)… I know I will be okay but I also know the journey to get to Okay, is hard as hell to walk. For now, I’ll continue to wear my pain like beautiful jewelry. It is heavy and comes with a high price but there is remarkable beauty even in these depths of pain.



Three little words!

It’s beyond time for a check in. I have been super busy with life, during a global pandemic. Just like everyone else. I haven’t blogged a lot during this time because I can’t complain in this environment… I am fortunate to have found the most physical peace prior to the pandemic hitting.

And thank God for that! especially since Dr. Hibner isn’t with Dignity St. Joseph’s anymore… and he hasn’t surfaced (that I know of) and elective procedures aren’t really allowed anymore since Arizona can’t behave and stop the spread of Covid.

Physically and medically one of the best moves I have made lately was to get a local SI Joint injection provider. Since these joint injections are done outpatient, and in a pain clinic with their own equipment, I was able to obtain SIJ injections with out Botox. It has helped immensely to have access to that care. I have discovered it is most helpful to keep those little bastard ass joints- no one even knows exist- happy and calm, otherwise the chain reaction of pain is awful. All this calm body also means one thing for me…My PGAD is a low 1 or 2. Very minimal if even measurable, some days it isn’t even a one. That’s right…. PGAD is now a ‘bother’ I am easily able to dismiss. READ that again! But, Charlie horses in the pelvic region still exist. They tear through the pelvic floor and take my breath away at the worst times. They are brutal but now they don’t last days or lock my entire pelvic floor down anymore.

I have also returned to Melissa Buss, my amazing pelvic floor physical therapist @ Body Central in Tucson. She has simply been amazing at helping me with different techniques based on my different bothersome symptoms. For the last two months, Melissa has been working to break up the scar tissue that has been binding my intestines and not allowing anything to pass. Our first couple of visits I left there in so much pain… She’d find hard knots of scar tissue in my abdomen around my intestines and she’d push on them until they were no longer hard knots. I was super nauseous at the first couple of visits but eventually, there were no more knots. My intestines are moving again and I am able to eat now. I have been able to put about 10 pounds back on and now my 00 and 0 clothes don’t fit. I have to buy new clothes! My hair is no longer falling out or breaking and my fingernails aren’t pealing anymore. I simply look healthier. My insurance no longer limits the number of visits I can have so we can start working on strengthening the core to help take the pressure off my low back/SI joints. I hope to avoid ablation on the nerves of the SI joints… I want to stop all injections and find a place of Zen for my body.

Mentally, the best move I have made recently was to start seeing a psychiatrist. Not a counselor. She was amazing! I say she was because she went into private cash pay practice… no job for me means no ability to pay cash prices each week… So, I am in transition to see a new psychiatrist she has recommended. I believe I have another week or two until my next visit. The Provider I chose was so good. She did the DNA test to see what psych meds to start with first. Then weaned me off Xanax… She has challenged my thought processes. Challenged me to understand that Xanax just dulls the senses. Xanax is so good at calming anxiety and taking it away, one can lose a sense of what a normal anxiety is supposed to feel like. She insisted anxiety was healthy and normal…it is part of the fight-or-flight process, granted she acknowledged the ‘shred your skin off’ anxiety 110% of the time is, indeed, not normal. I was taking 45 Xanax a month and now I get 5, that I only use for really bad days. I think, of all the drugs I have been on and loved/hated for the bigger part of ten years, Xanax will be the one I will miss the most. <insert HUGE CRYING emoji>….

In addition to the work above with the psychiatrist, I have been processing a lot of information she has given me about PTSD and Trauma. The Psych doc insists the bulk of my trauma was childhood related and not medically induced. I of course, respectfully disagree… How does it start in a childhood I have almost no recollection of? My childhood was not any worse than most others, it was much better than my husbands childhood. I feel like my mom did the best she could with what she had. She loved us, gave us what she could. So I need to reconcile in my mind that it’s the combination of childhood and medical. However, I’ll always believe the medical community is responsible for the bulk of my PTSD. She agreed the medical community did fuck me over but insists the feelings of never being okay and not having a voice came from early on. I have had to kind of stew over it since she is private now and I am waiting on my new therapist appointment. I am interested to hear another person’s professional summary of where the PTSD developed. I hope the new provider can offer better insight for me.

I have been on a lot of job interviews. Tons of phone and skype interviews. Even a couple of face to face interviews. All postings closed with no fill. All closed with no fill or positions suspended with no fill. It’s scary out there right now…

Then I put in an app for something I haven’t done… a line of business with in my scope that I have zero experience with. I honestly don’t remember even putting in this application. They started emailing asking questions. Then we did a phone interview, then a Zoom Interview. Then a face to face interview, where I met with 4 VP’s of the company. Then BAM- offer comes in. For the first time in my whole career, the salary is on point. Then they offer a nice yearly bonus! Hell yes! And it is remote 50% of the time. I get to learn a new line of business, build a whole new model of business for that line of business and make amazing money doing it. This company is over the top, employee friendly. I simply can’t wait to exceed all of their expectations. My excitement over this new position is almost more than I can stand.

Then… The BEST news ever! I ask HR a bunch of questions in email… and stick a drug screen question in there… ask details on where I can get it done by my house for ease…

…and she said the THREE LITTLE WORDS I’ve been waiting 4 years to hear…

… No Testing here!

I almost fainted with joy. Hell YES!! I don’t even have to lie. My medical marijuana use doesn’t matter. Medical Marijuana doesn’t play into my livelihood anymore. I feel a huge weight of anxiety lifted and an lightening on my heart… I can simply be me.

I start Monday! Wish me luck. ❤



Get In My Head

I have been bone weary tired, lately. Like most adults in the world, I was released from my job. Unlike most of the world, I have enough cash to help pay bills for a while. For that I am blessed, thankful and grateful. I have a couple offers lining up and I am doing some temporary work to cover immediate expenses. With our numbers for Covid increasing, it only stopped all offers.

The ‘released from my job’ business has ended up being a huge blessing. I realized midway in, I had made a mistake linking myself to this business partner. To say our life philosophies didn’t align is putting it mildly. She is a religious zealot. I am not. So it came as NO surprise when she called and told me she wouldn’t put my name on the LLC paperwork to give me my half… her reason? Because God told her not to. And if I had a problem with it, she told me to talk to God. She only does what he tells her to do.’ … …What. The. Actual. Fuck. So, since I refused to drink the cool-aid…. or listen to her ‘David-Koresh’ wanna be bullshit, I decided it was in my best interest to let her and HER business go.

Now- it took a while… for me to let go. Actually. A lot of tears. Telling her off a couple times helped too. It was even more awful because she pulled this bullshit right before Covid hit. The week before the 16th of March. I was shocked, sad and crushed because I busted my ass. Busted my ass for something that isn’t mine. Again, it wasn’t mine. I felt robbed. And somehow, I needed to figure out how to stop my initial response to go kick her ass…

So I started thinking of what I had accomplished there. What had I learned and I started realizing that I now know things for myself that I really didn’t know before. I realized I am smart. I can drive change. I can solve million dollar puzzles! I can diplomatically work for a greedy woman (like her) to maintain my family life and not destroy myself in the process. I can pull groups of people together and show them a different, better way.


I can do those things for people who appreciate me, appreciate the way my brain works and accept me for where I am. And where I am going to be, very, very soon.

The day before ‘Ms. Koresh ex business partner’ ‘fired’ me, I had made an appointment with a local psychiatrist. I knew I needed to get my head space right. If I can’t do that, I’ll never settle down and I’ll never trust myself. I’ve been in some shitty situations in my professional career. Most people don’t believe it when I tell them. But here I am. Stronger. Smarter. Wiser. And this time, I know it. There is no problem I can’t figure out.

The psychiatrist is amazing. She helped me get my DNA/medication test. Never questioned my diagnoses or anxiety. She stopped my panic attack at the first visit and told me I didn’t have to fight like that anymore. She started me on Viibryd. She told me she believed we could fix it and I would eventually not need any medicine. No- she assures me I am not crazy, all my reactions are coming from trauma. PTSD.

Now, we will start to do the work to fix my head space. Intake should be over now. I told her my reality is pain. It’s always been pain. I’ll never be at zero on the pain scale but after living at at ten on the pain scales, I can handle a 2-3, overall. But this anxiety that makes me claw my skin off has got to go. And NOW!

I’ll no longer apologize for anything. I did what I had to to survive a hell most people don’t even know exists. I am proud to be alive. Finally.

Now- pray, send positive vibes and healing thoughts my way. I’ll take all the positive I can get. One more long battle ahead and I am ready. My terms. My life. My future.

Head up, feet down.

Head up, feet down. I love you N.



Ugly Cry

I’m sitting outside. Watching the beautiful moon rise. I don’t know if I have ever seen one like this. It is a full moon tonight. The clouds were initially glowing yellow with moonlight behind the mountains. No moon visible yet. The night sky is dark, black. The sun long gone… looks like a Hollywood scene.

I’m smoking a nice indica. The temperature is an amazing 87 degrees. The stars are still visible, beautiful and bright.

It was a hell of a day. I worked 14 hours but only billed 12. Everything in my house eats all the time so I fed something or someone all day, the mother in law called- required help (for something the family should not allow at all). It pissed me off. Then I dropped my whole cup of water in the living room. The kid woke up super grumpy and crying. The husband got home and the day just went to shit… so I went back to work. Hence, the 14 hour day. The husband comes in with work clothes on. He got called out.

The kid comes in and sits at the bar and I can tell she’s been crying. Poor baby is just like me. You can see her face is all blotchy… but, I don’t point it out. I just start cleaning the kitchen. Waiting to see if she spills what’s on her mind. I wasn’t expecting what I got.

Months ago, she tapped out and asked to go to the doctor for her periods. After over a year of craziness, she wanted to see the gynecologist for them. They were irregular and she kept reporting pain but it was vague. I took her to see the gyn that I’ve been with forever… the doctor that believed me. And also delivered her 13 years ago.

Our first visit with Dr. Chin was good. Since the kid is only 13, doctor decides no pelvic exam. I was so thankful that didn’t have to happen and supported a hands off, talking approach. After hearing the issues, the doctor said she was going to get an ultrasound just to make sure everything was fine. Probably start birth control after that, depending what the US showed.

The appointment for her US was in early Feb. I busted my ass to get her there and we almost cancelled due to lack of time- mine, no one else’s… but something told me to get my ass in gear and finish her medical appointments! So, we piled in the car and hauled ass to the doctor office for an ultrasound. I didn’t expect any diagnosis that day. I sat in the clinic US room and watched while the tech performed the US. But I didn’t know there was a radiologist actually watching the US real time. The tech calls on a walk-in talkie radio for doctor to review the results with us.

Radiologist comes in and says to the tech-go back to the right ovary, it’s polycystic. Then let’s look at the left as it’s the same. Doctor, speaking to the kid, explains what he sees, showing her the detail in the pictures. Her ovaries look like little moons… full of craters. He asks if she has questions and she says no.

Meanwhile I’m sitting there, dying inside, trying not to show any emotion. Fuck! PCOS. A whole body disease. Diagnosed at 13. I wanted to cry. I was expecting them to poo poo us and send us on our way that every thing was normal. I expect endometriosis. Maybe a cyst. Never PCOS. The one pelvic disease I don’t have. My whole heart was heavy.

Fast forward to today. The gyn put her on the pill and I don’t think it’s the right pill for her. My normal, chill kid is now a hot ass mess of emotions. This whole pandemic and home schooling business has not been easy. She sleeps all day. Refuses to do her homework. almost refuses to do anything. Expect sleep.

She is grumpy. I am grumpy. Never a good combo.

So, Back to this evening. I am loading the dishwasher, waiting on her to say something. She doesn’t.

So I ask if she was hungry? If she needed anything and she burst into tears and said having PCOS wasn’t fair. I burst into tears and simply said she was right. It wasn’t fair. We both just cried. Ugly cried.

Then I told her about my research. PCOS is a whole body disease. There are things we can do to help her by simply managing some of the symptoms. She told me about her research (my girl!!! ❤

We talked about making her a dermatologist appointment. The oily skin and hair is most bothersome to her. So I’ll make a dermatologist appointment tomorrow. We also discussed the need for a pediatric endocrinologist. I made her an appointment the day we got the diagnosis- but it’s not until July. And finally we discussed that the birth control may not be the right one for her and it’s time to call the doctor and ask for advise… keep the current pill or try a different one. I talked to her about metformin, diet, weight control and insulin resistance.

Those are the biggest things my research has shown we need to focus on. I joined a PCOS, not trying to conceive, Facebook page and I asked those ladies what they wished their mom knew about having PCOS at 13 and what they would like to have told their mom. I asked what has helped them. Universally, those things we touched on were in almost every comment.

She instantly perked up when I told her the pills may not be the right ones for her body. They appear to be making her feel awful, be crabby and tearful- she looked at me with big eyes, full of tears and ask, it can do that? Yes! Baby girl, it does do that. And it’s okay because I get it. And, so does Daddy. We get it.

We had a good, ugly cry. Together. I promised to help her manage the symptoms and we discussed next steps so we are on the same page and have the same expectations. She was much calmer and I am so glad I can be here. With her. I assured her that dad and I both know pelvic diseases and we are both here to help her feel better.

I told her that we had an opportunity to see this not as the worst thing that’s ever happened to her but as something we can climb on top of now. Make positive changes that will carry her into her future as healthy as possible. With out fear. With out pain. With out PCOS being the worst thing that’s happened. I want to teach her that it’s just something to fold into your life. Into the daily management. Not something that controls her life. This is where an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.

I never wanted this for my baby.

I am thankful to be alive. Thankful to be able to help my baby navigate living with a whole body disease. Thankful to *still be working. Thankful for my husband and kid. My small circle of friends and family.

Please, be safe. Kiss your loved ones and take care of each other.



Climb back up…

Last week was a hell of a week. Working out of town, added stress of leaving my family and added stress to perform tip top this week because I was on site with a very important client.

The environment my team and I walked into was toxic. They don’t want us there… And we were scheduled to be there ALL week.

Not only did we manage to survive, I believe we were able to impress the leadership team of the company. Overall, we did amazing.

Personally, the week ended up with chaos. Nothing worth documenting as it was all so idiotic… but I’m upset with myself. I reacted instead of walking away.

May not seem like a lot but I have a personal rule. USUALLY -I remind myself often: don’t react. Do NOT react. But, I reacted. And it cost me time, energy, money and a massive fucking panic attack.

Since Friday, I feel like I’ve been running in a marathon of anxiety. And that marathon of anxiety, it’s only in my fucking head!

I finally made it home and just crumbled. A complete crying, snotty mess. Which pissed me off even more.

The weekend was full of sleeping and cleaning. Errands and then the kid got sick. So, off to UC we go. Viral. <<insert sarcastic, but of course it IS>>.

No matter what I do, I can not shake this anxiety. It sits heavy, on my chest and in my heart. Weighing all of me down… where everything feels awful.

It’s been a minute since I had to deal with that level of panic… then, when the worst if it was over, reality set in and I remember that I am never really okay. I’ll always be sitting on the ledge, waiting for the next battle. It’s just a nasty cycle where I climb back up and get knocked back down. Climb up. Knock down. Up. Down.

Was that calm I achieved an illusion?

No way.

It was real. I can get there again. I know I can.

But, that climb looks daunting. And I am tired.

I’ve been taking a daily Xanax. Or two, or three. Just depends on the day. My stress level and the events of the day. Mostly, I’ve been able to separate the medical from the anxiety level so what would normally have doubled my pain hasn’t. But, I am constantly reminding myself to relax my body, sit differently. Stretching and hot baths have saved my pain level. And muscle relaxers… but overall, it is creeping up. I’m at a 4 now. It was a 1-2. I will go ahead an make moves to schedule my next Botox then SIJ Injections right after. Probably try for end of April, beginning of June. I hope it helps get me a full year of no injections…

Oh, to Dream! A full year, no injections.

So, I’m sitting, watching the sun rise. It is a clear, crisp morning. Coffee, weed and my dog. Organizing the day in my head. praying for calm…

Time to start that climb back UP, to the edge of calm. Out of this chaos of anxiety.



SIJ injection day.

The SIJ injection appointment went off like I expected! Completely successful!

But, Dr. Gossler is a pro. The injections were easy. But I’ve only ever done them under anesthesia so I did take two Xanax for the appointment. One 2 hours prior and the second Xanax one hour prior to the scheduled Injection time. I was anxious and knew not to tempt the PTSD and I wanted to be relaxed during the procedure. So, I took 2 Xanax to cover my bases. Also, the wonderful husband drove me so I didn’t have to do anything but have my injections.

The Injections were not pain free but they certainly were not a deal breaker. I lay on my stomach, all propped up and comfortable and talk to the assistant the whole time she set up the injection tray. Doctor comes in, we chat and then Dr. Gossler reminds me these injections eventually stop working for people and then he said how LUCKY I am they work for me.

…WTF…. ** …luck? Who.The.Fuck said lucky and my name in the same sentence???… cause they’ll need a good ‘momma smack up the back of their head’ and it needs to be hard!! Fucking luck didn’t land me here, today. Sheer will and determination to live, that’s why I’m here.

But… remember. I was prepared and had a good amount of Xanax on board. I calmly remind him… he only gets to do TWO of my over all injections so I don’t consider myself lucky in any realm. But, until the day the SIJ injections don’t work, just do your part and shoot me up! I then took the opportunity to remind him to look for other pelvic diseases when his SI Joint injections fail for other patients. Since my pelvic diseases are all related. And CONNECTED!

Dr. Gossler quickly agrees that I am a complicated case. He started the procedure… He was quick and the worst part was the actual steroid injection as it fills the space completely. Dr. Gossler said I’d feel pressure and man, did I ever! Wow. But then it was over.

By the 8th hour after the injection, my pain went from a steady 7-8 to a 2. Thank God I didn’t Rambo this one and try and drive myself, although it’s harder to trick this system than the hospitals. LOL… anyways, my right leg was not cooperative after the injections and it took a couple hours to regain enough control to be able to walk on my own.

Here is what the injection sites looked like:

Overall, would I do it again? Hell yes. If you’re on the fence about doing the shots, don’t be. Do them. The pain you suffer daily is less pain than these injections… and if it works for you then you’re one step closer to finding the key to unlock your pain puzzle. If they don’t work, don’t give up on them, add other injections on, it may only be a percentage of the pain and not the total cause!

Today, I am 6 days out from the shots. Overall, pain is decreased systemically. Relieving the SIJ pain released the knotted neck and mid back muscles. They also released the butt and hip pain and the sciatica. Having that pain relieved allowed me to relax enough to calm the pelvic floor. I haven’t had a Charlie horse since Monday.

Fuck yeah! Success… however long it may be. I’ll take it. I do believe I’ll go ahead and schedule a procedure for ALL of the injections again in about 3 months. Go visit the amazing Hibner then the next week, SIJ’s again. Then, I hope to get a year between injections. A WHOLE year! A WHOLE YEAR! Wow… to dream. I’m dreaming of the day.



Silence that marquee

I woke up with it on my mind and then immediately I felt the heaviness in my heart. The anxiety instantly set in… my vision fuzzy. Tears in my eyes

My first thought of the morning. UGH

I can’t stop it…

Scrolling through my mind like a marquee… you know the one. The sign that is out of place and too bright and has that really loud, odd buzz…

…new doctor… new doctor… new doctor…

I know it’s a fear response. A history of being doubted. But I’m powerless to stop it. I haven’t even seen the doctor and I’m already in panic.

The auditory marquee immediately rolls into visual images of these previous doctors. Like ghosts of my past, they roll together fluidly from one doubtful doctor to the next. Each one here to haunt me all over again. They’re all arrogantly standing over me…. taking turns calling me a liar. Telling me to seek psychiatric care for a pain that was ‘Obviously’ in my head.

The marquee keeps scrolling… it’s amps up in intensity. I can hear the labels they tacked onto me. Like they’re playing pin the tail on the donkey at a kids birthday party…

…she’s a hypochondriac, she’s a drug seeker, only drug addicts use fentanyl, have you thought you are your own problem…

The marquee rolling through my mind and the subsequent panic and anxiety level would normally have been enough to make me cancel the appointment. Why cancel? Because, Fuck it… I still have more pain managed days than non-managed days so there is no need to deal with hypocritical… NEW DOCTORS…. right this minute.


That isn’t healing. Cancelling the appointment isn’t what will help me get this pain back under control.

Luckily, the husband stirred about 20 minutes into my anxiety filled, marquee rolling, panic attack.

He acknowledged that he could see why I was struggling. But was quick to then remind me that we don’t need this guy for answers. We don’t need diagnostic stuff, just maintenance and access to care. -And, husband says, if he’s a dick, just leave. We will find someone else.

So, how did it go?

Well, I got up and took a Xanax. Lol

Then I got dressed. Curled my hair and put my makeup on. Shoes, perfume and Jewelry. ~~It’s necessary for me, you see. It’s a survival tool, really. I learned early on… If I’m put together, not hysterical or wild eyed, their more likely to believe me…

I drove to the doctor and almost bailed in the parking lot but the husband was there to text with me… we don’t need him to believe you, only agree to the injections. It’s okay… you’re okay….

So I went in. Alone. Believing in the power of my own story. And my own survival…. but still, hoping I like him.

Dr. Gossler comes in. Shakes my hand and we do brief intro’s. He asks why I’m there and I immediately explain that I have PTSD that is trigged X1000 when I see new doctors, please if he could be patient with me while I process what is said and if I ask you to repeat yourself, it’s only to ensure I understand what you mean.



I didn’t mean to say that! Ugh!

Dr. Gossler looks at me and calmly says, okay. Thank you.

…Then he starts… I read your last records from Hibner. He asks, Who was Dr. Hastings again?….. and off we went, answering questions and then his exam. We discuss how I added procedure onto procedure until I found the powerhouse COMBINATION to deal with PGAD and bladder, frozen pelvic muscles and SIJ injections… Dr. Gossler said he doesn’t want any radiology tests. He is comfortable continuing Hastings injections…

He asked if I had another diagnosis of some hip thing. I said no…I must have looked wild eyed, he backed off. I didn’t ask what he meant as I was so focused on making sure I controlled my ptsd. I’ll have to ask what he thinks is happening to the hips at my next visit.

Then he surprised me. He offered additional treatments to consider when the SIJ Injections stop working… radioablation of the nerves (that can last up to a year at a time) and then fusing the joints. I immediately rejected fusing and he asked why. I said I was afraid of it causing more damage down the road. He said unlikely and explained the dowels they use are triangular and don’t go through the whole pelvic floor. It isn’t one single rod but 4 small ones. He said it’s an option for later, not now. He told me I am lucky, that only 30% of people who get SIJ injections get any relief.

Now that I think about it, I don’t think it’s luck at all… Blood. Sweat. Tears. Withdrawals. And I can’t help but think maybe if the doctors did more powerhouse injections, listening and adjusting based on each patients needs, together then more people would report successful blocks…. if I had done one block at a time and moved on to the next after it didn’t help ‘enough’ then I’d be saying none of them work… it honestly took them ALL, being done together, to get any significant pain difference for me.

Anyways, I did it. A successful visit. By myself. Hahahahaha haha…. unsupervised. To a new doctor! Hells yeah!

And, I see Dr. Gossler again on February 17th for bilateral SIJ injections. In clinic, no anesthesia and I can’t fucking wait! Bring on the pain of those injections so I know I have relief coming… bring it!

Come on Feb 17!

Healing is hard but the reward is beautiful.

Updates after the injections.



Unexpected chapter

I am trying to keep a peace about my world. A world where stress and anxiety simply don’t have a place to thrive. While also trying to detox off Xanax and muscle relaxers. While the muscle relaxers are easy to not take… my Xanax is a different thing all together. I may never be off it.

I’m trying to learn new tools to deal with the anxiety so now, when anxiety strikes, I ask myself if it is justified. If so, is there something I can do immediately to relieve the anxiety? Sometimes it’s something small like, log in and pay a bill. If those things don’t work to relieve anxiety then, can I get my husband on the phone to talk and work through the anxiety? Is it work related? Can my business partner help me? What can I do to relieve anxiety before it builds?

Overall, now that I work for myself. My anxiety is typically a low 3. But it is still a buzz of energy that just can’t be snuffed out. When it peaks, my vision fades and my heart races and I know I am close to a panic attack. Luckily, I haven’t had a panic attack like that in a long time.

It’s been over 6 months since I left a position that I should have left a long time ago. While it has helped me immensely to have a different job, it hasn’t removed all stresses. I still have deadlines. I still work with awful people. Only now, I’m the consultant. It is very rewarding to build your own legacy but it isn’t with out anxiety.

While I had hoped being at home would help me gain weight, it hasn’t helped much. I had hoped to be 15lbs heavier by now. Ha! While I have gained a touch back it is not enough to need new clothes. All my double zero’s still fit like a glove. Guess I should be happy the weight losses seem to have stopped (although, I’m not sure what the fuck is less than a double zero???… seems like I’ve already lost all there was to possibly lose).

Since my last procedure was incomplete (Hastings didn’t show up to my injection appointment since Hibner ran late and didn’t start me until 530pm) and I got everything but the SIJ injections, it showed me that those joints alone compromise about 40-50% of my total pain now. I feel like knowing this will allow me to stretch the next Botox appointment a year!! Because, duh. My logical thought… if I can increase the SIJ injections and control the start of the pain, then maybe, just maybe, by keeping those little bastards in check, it will allow for my body to need less Botox! So. I have started the daunting task of looking for a new, local, pain management doctor to manage my SIJ needs. If I want to have better, faster and more improved access to the SI Joint Injections, it’s time to look locally.

For a new doctor.


A new doctor.

…<<<<Insert PTSD reaction now>>>>…


New doctor…

Breathe in. Breathe out. I can do this.

I need to do this.

I call a clinic (that I’ve not fired before -haha-) and ask a ton of questions. Poor gal that had the misfortune of answering the phone… patiently answered my questions about the clinic. I mean everything: the providers, their skill set of doing SIJ Injections (they all do them), do they have a unit in clinic to do the injections or must it be done in the hospital (clinic procedures)…. and then finally- the biggest question of all- their medical marijuana policy (they allow it- with active Medical Card only). So far, so good.

Of course, she asks for the history to know *where to put me and with what doctor. I explain my high level issues and why I know exactly what needs to be done. ~I’m not your typical case… I exhausted Mayo Clinic. Landed with Hibner. Over the last 4 years we’ve added injection on top of injection on top of injection on top of bladder hydro and 300 units of pelvic floor Botox until his partner, Hastings, diagnosed me with SI Joint dysfunction. Hastings did the first SIJ injections in conjunction with everything else Hibner does and I was pain managed for the first time in forever. I don’t want pills. I only want the Injections Hastings did.

She wanted to talk to a provider and look at their schedule and see what could be done. She said she’ll call me back…Sure but I figured I’d have to chase her down. Nope. She called today. I have an appointment for SIJ Injection consult the 7th and I hope to follow that with the soonest Injection slot they can give me.

Wish me luck! Anxiety and PTSD flare around new doctors. The thought of explaining my medical life. My journey and pain… sprinkled with PGAD always makes me cry. I somehow live those pains again.

However, this time, I finally have a new , unexpected chapter to add…

How I survived it all. ♥️



The best gift of 2019

It’s that time of year.

Haha- nope, not Christmas. No- this is even better!

Tis’ the very END of the holiday season!!

Hahahahaha hahahahaha!

Thank you baby Jesus! And everything Holy.


Seems awful to say but the year end holiday hustle is not the most joyous time of the year. Most people experience a lot of stress this time of year… Financial, relationship, family….

For me, holidays usually mean a whole new level of anxiety. One where Xanax is required to survive. However, the holidays this year came with the development of something new. Something that should have been put into place years ago but never was. Something that gives power back to me, not removes it.

This year, I was given the gift of setting boundaries. Boundaries that my husband helped set, and then helped me hold onto, despite pressure to ‘just get over it’…

It’s most unfortunate that these boundaries were absolutely necessary to protect me from people that aren’t on my team. These people quit cheering for me a long time ago, despite me cheering for them.

Setting boundaries didn’t come with out tears. A WHOLE lot of fucking tears. A lot of anger and pain. Panic attacks. CONFUSION. More panic attacks. Then, sadness. Oh, Extreme sadness. How, how do people that have been in my life for over 30 years just stop existing in my world? How am I supposed to be okay with that…????? How do I just stop, caring?

I’ll tell you… Every time I feel my heart soften, I will remember the hate slung against me and I will remember those days of raw pain. My heart breaking as I removed these people from my life. It’s not my responsibility to fix anything. I don’t have to do anything but hold to my boundaries… they’re there to protect me from people no longer here to cheer for me. I no longer have to try explain myself.


#noproofneededanymore #itsanintuition #empathOUT #superoverit

Set boundaries.

Be okay with others not knowing your side of the story.

It’s okay. The world doesn’t end when you set boundaries. I promise. ♥️