pelvic floor dysfunction · recovery · TMS

Where I’ve Been


Not sure if anyone out there will read this, but here’s hoping someone might find it helpful or interesting.  I’ve been wanting to write it for a long time now. I suck at writing anymore. I never make time for it, even though it’s all I really want to do.

Anyway, it feels good to be sitting here with my cup of coffee in my newly redecorated room, typing away.

I wanted to pop in to say hello again and to let you know after 10 months of suffering from scary pelvic pain, I am better.

I think…no, I KNOW…people who have no experience with pelvic pain hear that and think–huh. That sucks. But how bad can that be?

Before I had it, I had never really heard of pelvic floor dysfunction. I had no idea how or why someone would get chronic pelvic pain. And given the fact that I’ve always been a physically healthy person, I figured I was immune from ever getting something like that.

I was wrong.

Turns out I developed chronic pelvic pain created by stress and anxiety. I had what they call a hypertonic pelvic floor, meaning my muscles that compose my pelvic floor were constantly clenched until they went ballistic and started spasming. Which, if you can’t imagine what that feels like–ever have a Charley horse in your leg? Or a muscle spasm in your back? You know how that kind of pain knocks the wind out of you and brings you to your knees? It’s the same thing, but in the muscles that surround your nether-regions.

Yes, it’s as fucking horrible as it sounds.

Just thinking about it freaks me out. My pain was so bad for so long, just remembering it now scares the heck out of me.

I went from being someone who woke up every day and did a million + things to someone who woke up and instantly thought–I don’t want this day to begin. And I’d stay in bed, sometimes all day. Because I was afraid to move. I was scared to death of the pain. I was scared of the idea of always being that way–sick and unable to do anything the way I used to and afraid I would never feel better or happy again.

I thought life as I had always known it was over.

I had a very hard time talking to anyone who wasn’t my husband or my friend who understood and had true sympathy for me. Everyone else didn’t understand, didn’t care to understand, and my tolerance for people wanting things from me–even if it was just a conversation with the “old Susan”–was non-existent. I mean, if they couldn’t help me, or even just shut up and listen, I couldn’t have anything to do with them. I was envious of people who felt fine and were able to take their lives for granted. I resented people who only wanted me in their lives when I could be the funny girl they were all used to. I know I freaked a lot of people out when I got sick.

Oh well.

I was no longer the girl I used to be. And I thought above all else I really wanted to get back to being that girl. Little did I know, my brain and my body set me on a course to intense discoveries and changes I didn’t even know (or more like didn’t want to know) I needed.

Anyway, I have to stop tip-typing away here and start getting ready to go to my in-laws to visit for my father-in-law’s birthday.

I’ll come back soon to tell you more about this experience I’ve been through. I know there are people out there who suffer with pain every day like I used to. I’d like to put my story out there so people know they can get better. I know when I was sick, I spent all day and night online, trying to find some sort of hope and camaraderie for what I was going through.

I’ll also talk about fun stuff here because I love fun stuff and today I can enjoy fun stuff once again.

Speaking of fun stuff, I’m off to do all kinds of it today.  So I’ll talk to you again soon.

Before I go, please enjoy a picture of my dog. This is what it’s like for me every time I try to do…well, anything.

She’s cute though, huh.

penny in my face

daughters · makes me smile · mothers · strong females

Product of a Strong Female

I was just sifting through my phone’s pictures and came across one I’d like to share here today.

The red-head blowing a kiss in this picture is my daughter. She’s almost 25 years old. She is my baby. Therefore I believe I will always say whenever she turns another year on her calendar–where has the time gone?

Anyway, I’m proud of my kids. Actually, they’re what I am most proud of in the world.

I love this picture.

Maria has been dancing since she was 2 years old. These days, she dances in drag shows, and my husband and I go to every single one.

At the last one, at the end of the show, Maria came out for the encore wearing this shirt.

It made me cry tiny tears of happiness.

A. that she thinks of me as a strong female and

B. I know she is one.


sis strong female

childhood memories · Hotel California · pink champagne on ice · The Eagles

Heartache Tonight

Guess who is performing in my hometown tonight?


Read the title of my post.

Yep. Those of you old enough know–

It’s The Eagles.

I don’t have tickets because I’ve been feeling so crappy the last bunch of months that I haven’t felt like doing anything. Plus, my husband isn’t such a big fan. I don’t think he cares too much about the fact that this is the last time we’d be able to see them live.

Of course it’s not the original line up, with Glenn being gone and all.

But you know why the Eagles mean something to me?

I LOVE the song Hotel California.

Ever since I was little when it first came out, I’ve loved it.

I like the music, I like the story, I like the idea of pink champagne on ice.

I also like that the song scared the bejesus out of the Christian counselors who used to hang with my crew when I was a teenager at the local pizza shop after Sunday night worship service we attended to see if there were any cute guys there. We were such little shits–playing songs on the jukebox we knew would stir the fear of Satan’s wrath in those people’s pizza-guzzling oh-so-vulnerable souls.

Hotel California was a staple for that kind of fun. Second only to Stairway to Heaven, of course.

But this is my favorite Hotel California memory.

I was 9 when my older sister was a senior in high school. I distinctly remember her taking me with her to Pizza Hut one night when all of her cool high school friends were there in that dark yummy pizza joint.

She and I played songs on the jukebox that night. (I’m just now fully realizing how this song has so many pizza place jukebox memories for me).

I felt so cool being there with the big kids, and getting to choose a tune all on my own.

Pam played “Lido Shuffle” by Boz Skaggs, which to this very day reminds me of her.

I played–you guessed it–“Hotel California”.

Whenever I hear that song I’m transported back in time to that cavernous pizza facility full of long-haired teenagers wearing painters pants and Earth shoes.

God knows what I had on that night. I was just hitting my incredibly unattractive awkward stage. I know I had a shag hairdo and probably wore a gauzy embroidered smocked shirt and jeans.

Anyway. That was a cool time. I appreciated my sister taking me along with her. I can only guess she probably didn’t really want to, but she did anyway.


The Eagles are in town tonight and truth be told, if we could swing it, I’d go.

Tickets are so expensive. Plus our daughter and her girlfriend are supposed to come for dinner and to work on daughter’s tax return tonight.

These are things I would be willing to give up if reasonably-priced tickets somehow made their ways into my hot little hands.

I keep watching the Ticketmaster site. People are trying to “resale” tickets for astronomical amounts there.

I can’t help wondering if the closer we get to showtime, maybe they might lower their sights?

I’ll keep checking.

If by some miracle I get there tonight, I actually have a gauzy white shirt somewhat similar to the one i had when i was 9. Im pretty sure I have a pair of jeans to pair with it.

But there ain’t no way in hell I’d resurrect the shag hairdo. That thing was a hot mess. The Eagles would be looking at me like–look at the chick in the audience whose hair thinks it’s 1976.

To finish, won’t you please take a moment to enjoy my all-time favorite version of what is probably like my #7 or 8th all-time favorite song.

Easter · Easter Bunny · hash-brown casserole · the crucifixion story always freaked me out

Easter Sunday

When I was a little girl, Easter Sunday was second in my good graces only to the massive juggernaut that was Christmas Day.

We went to church on Easter, dressed in starchy really uncomfortable long dresses but NEVER white patent leather shoes (mom thought white patent leather was cheesy even tho I kinda liked it!)– and I was always completely grossed out by the crucifixion story. I always wondered if my parents were really okay with me seeing the brutality of that story.

I mean, my mom pitched a fit when I wouldn’t go to bed so she could watch the made-for-tv-movie Helter Skelter when it came on my tv in, what–1976?

That was a pretty gross made-for-tv movie, you know?

So why was I able to look at first-born sons getting wooden stakes driven through their hearts and the shit being beat out of Jesus wearing his hideous crown of thorns and being hung in a cross was lost on me.

And honestly–coming back from the dead? Pushing that big ass circular stone out of the way and getting the hell out of dodge? Going to Heaven and whatnot?

I mean, yeh–that’s kind of a cool story. But it’s also kinda hard to believe if you really think about it.

You know, for me personally…even as a small person, I never believed that ever really happened.

I was way more down with the Easter Rabbit bringing me candy and silly toys.

Who cared why an odd and really- unusually smart rabbit would show up in my home to bring me goodies?

I thought a rabbit coming into my home to bring me chocolates was way more likely than a dude dying and actually coming back to life.

For me and apparently my sins.

Yeh. My sins I committed as a small child.

These days, at 50, I know Jesus didn’t die for “my sins” and that the Easter Bunny isn’t real.


I still leave big hunks of banana outside for the rabbit that has been living under my neighbors’ deck for a long, long time.

He’s pretty cute and has been entertaining me for a while now.

I didn’t know rabbits like bananas, did you?

I mean, I didn’t actually see him eating it, but I have seen him hanging out by our old Xmas tree we left out so little animals could take refuge during the cold winter months.

I’m assuming he ate it.

Want to see him?

Here he is–my old buddy the Easter BunBun. Chilling by my hose last week.


I’m rambling.

Today my grown children are with their significant others whose families celebrate Easter, and I am grateful for them showing my little ones (ages 25 and 24) a good time today.

Bill and I?

We’ll enjoy a good dinner together. He is watching some Jason Bourne movie I don’t like and I’m in bed with my cat writing this post.


I feel pretty good physically today.

That’s really nice.

I guess I don’t have much else to say except

Happy Easter.

And isn’t it such a freaking relief the sun and warmth is coming back?

God and Goddess, yes. ❤️

I’m off to switch laundry and throw hash-brown casserole in the oven.

Hash-brown casserole.

Now if that’s not another reason to celebrate, I don’t know what is.


chiropractor · Motley Crue · tailbone pain

He’s the one I call Dr. Tailbone

I’m about to go see my chiropractor Dr. Mark. I like this guy. He puts me in weird positions and on tables and snaps me here and there. You should see what he has done for my hips.

When I first walked into his office, my right hip was way lower than my left. I have no idea how long it had been like that. I wasn’t even there for him to treat that.

I was there for the pain in my tailbone that I’ve had for MONTHS that wouldn’t (still won’t) allow me to sit for any length of time without experiencing pain.

If you don’t think not being able to sit for long lengths of time doesn’t suck, you are wrong.

It’s sucks hard.

Anyway, this guy is currently manipulating my coccyx which is hanging off to the damn left.

I’m hoping I go in there today, after my PT session last week, and he goes:

Hey! This tailbone is back where it belongs. Whaddya know.

I actually feel better. Not perfect, mind you. But I can sit easier. And my sitz bone on the right side and the muscle there no longer tingles and feels puffed up.

These are large improvements.

Of course, now that I’m reading all this emotional pain causes physical pain stuff, who knows if I really need the chiro or the PT.

One thing is for damn sure–I’m sticking with all of it til the pain is


Gotta go get ready to split.

In the meantime, here’s a little song about doctors and feeling good.


Dr. John Sarno · earthworms · fur babies · going to get better · journaling · Judas Priest · Nicole Sachs · recovery

Journaling, earthworming and hoping

I’m almost done reading “The Mindbody Prescription: Healing the Body, Healing the Pain” by Dr. John Sarno MD and I have to say—

I truly believe there’s something relevant to my pain within these pages.

I’ve also started listening to someone who studied with Sarno named Nicole Sachs. I watch her YouTube videos while I’m working. I’m going to buy this woman’s book today because everything she says makes sense to me. And to be honest, I’m getting so tired of living with pain.

I mean, fuck this stuff. I’m ready to do anything to get rid of it.

I’m seeing a chiropractor who’s trying to move my crooked tailbone externally. I have a new and improved physical therapist who is helping with the muscles all around down there (and if you don’t think that hurts-you’ve got another thing coming)

Hey. That reminds me of a song from when I was 15. I saw the Screaming for Vengeance tour live. Rob Halford beating his motorcycle with a whip, lasers going off everywhere. The whole enchilada.

Did I think then that I’d ever be some 50 year old woman struggling with pain?

Hell no.

Pisser about Glenn Tipton though, huh.


Anyway–here ya go:

So back to YouTube Nicole. This lady encourages her students to make lists of things, memories, character traits that bother us. It can be anything. Then she encourages us to take 20 minutes a day, pick a topic from our lists (my lists are loooonnggg) and purge on paper about that topic.

I did my first 20 minute journal exercise this morning. I wrote so much, I almost set the notebook on fire. I even had to go back after my 20 minutes was up to add stuff. Hope that’s okay. I’m betting it is.

I felt tired when I was done. Like I worked out. And I wrote a lot of shit I always think but never say.

I think I did the exercise right. I almost spelled out “write” just then. Ha.

I am hoping like mad this is the answer I’m looking for. I’m ordering Nicole’s book today.

I’m stopping at nothing to feel better again.

I’m not living out the rest of my years feeling like crap, emotionally or physically. That’s for damn sure.

In other news this morning, the earthworms and birds are out in full-force.

I tried to show Penny this guy this morning, but poor pooch–she was looking everywhere like–what? What the hell are you showing me? Look how fat Mr. Worm is. Hope he has a good day and doesn’t get eaten. But if he does, some bird is gonna be lovin’ it.

Also, Penny Lane started her new drug regimen last night. We all slept pretty peacefully all night long. What a fucking relief.

If we can get Penn’s seizures under control, I’m going to guess my anxiety/ stress might also come down about a million notches. That would help ease my pain, too.

Doesn’t it all just sound so lovely.

Fingers and toes crossed for much better days ahead.