Feed for thought: Learning another hard lesson about my EDS body
It's hard to accept that I’m not living in the same body I once did
Written by |
I don’t have a degree in anatomy, but sometimes I wish I understood the inner workings of the muscles, fascia, joints, and ligaments better. Living with hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome (hEDS) has forced me to learn far more about my body than I ever expected to, usually the hard way.
Over the past week, my lesson has been all about the intercostal muscles. Until a few days ago, I couldn’t have told you what they were. Now, I have deep respect for these important little muscles!
It started about five days ago, when my husband and I stopped at our local feedstore to buy a few 50-pound bags for our chickens and horse. Because of my EDS, lifting anything heavy has become more challenging in recent years. Losing my strength and stamina has been incredibly humbling because my mind still remembers everything my body once did without a second thought.
Whenever we get livestock feed, my husband always offers to load the bags onto the flatbed cart. But stubborn ol’ me has a hard time letting go of the strength I once had. I still make myself grab a few bags out of pure determination and grit. Usually, the worst consequence is a racing heart and tired muscles.
I value the sense of accomplishment when I do it. I tell my husband that lifting feed bags feels like the last form of strength training my weakening body hasn’t taken away from me. He worries because he knows I’m putting myself in a position to get hurt, simply because I’m determined to prove I can still do something another 30-something woman might do without thinking twice.
That day, I loaded the bags onto the flatbed cart without any problems. When we got to the register, however, the cashier asked us to put them on the counter so she could scan them. Without thinking, I grabbed one. I lifted that 50-pound bag onto the counter like a champ, but when I reached forward to place it back in a cart (not a flat one this time), I extended my arms as I had countless times over the years. My body moved on muscle memory before my brain could remind me I’m not living in the same body I once did.
Then I felt it. A deep burning and ripping sensation tore around my rib cage and immediately took my breath away. I had done exactly what my sweet husband had been warning me not to do. For a few seconds, the pain was so intense I barely registered my husband and the cashier talking to me. I finished paying while trying not to let the pain show on my face.
All I could think was, “Why am I so stubborn?”
Learning to respect my limitations
What began as a burning, pulled-muscle feeling soon wrapped around my ribs and into my back like a horrible hug. Over the next few days, the muscles tightened and seized, greatly limiting my mobility. You don’t realize how much twisting, turning, reaching, sitting, and even breathing are involved in everyday life until the muscles helping you do those things are screaming.
Thankfully, I already had physical therapy scheduled that week for a completely different issue. By the time I walked into my therapist’s office, I could barely sit comfortably or take a deep breath. After several tests, she explained that I had strained my intercostal muscles. I finally learned that these little muscles run in layers between our ribs, wrapping from the front of our chest around our sides toward the spine. They help expand and contract our chest wall when we breathe and stabilize our upper body when we twist.
No wonder everything hurt.
My physical therapist gently massaged the area and placed three strips of kinesiology tape around my ribs and the sides of my spine. That tape was a saving grace! She also told me I was lucky I hadn’t subluxed a rib during the injury. Unfortunately, that luck didn’t last.
As the days passed, a rib on my mid-right side began subluxing, making sleeping and breathing even more difficult. Last night, the pain became so intense that at 4 a.m., I crawled into a hot Epsom salt bath, desperate for some relief.
So here I sit, pillows behind my back and neck just to stay upright, thinking about the lesson in all of this. I realize our bodies change, sometimes long before we are emotionally ready to accept it. I’m learning that respecting my limitations doesn’t mean I’m giving up or letting EDS win. It means recognizing where my body is in this season of life and respecting its abilities.
Note: Ehlers-Danlos News is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or another qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of Ehlers-Danlos News or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to Ehlers-Danlos.
Leave a comment
Fill in the required fields to post. Your email address will not be published.