Posted by: Kate | March 13, 2009

A Nun Made Me Cry

Yesterday was not a good day. Just not feeling well, which added to the emotional-not-feeling-well, which, no news there. A crying jag before my shower didn’t help, the crying jag during the shower didn’t help, and the crying jag immediately after the shower only helped make me almost-late for my first physical therapy appointment.

So, fine, I went. My primary care doctor asked me to try PT for a few weeks before we move to the next step of pain management for my back (I have spinal arthritis, diagnosed in January), which is cortisone injections. Doesn’t that sound like a blast?

So, I agreed to go, and afterward I felt even less optimistic than I did walking in; and I wasn’t exactly bubbling over with Pollyannistic glee when entering. The physical therapist told me I have “excellent pelvic alignment” (go ahead, listen to someone say that to you and then try NOT to go all Wayne’s World on them: “That’s what she said, heh heh heh…”) and only a few specific muscle groups she wants to target to see if strengthening those areas might help. Might. Great, thanks for the vote of confidence there, can’t wait for the steroid shots.

But the physical therapist is also a nun, and was dressed in full habit, with cross and everything. I don’t know why this was funny, except maybe that nuns are inherently funny, but it was. Right up until about three minutes into the meeting, when she was filling out a demographics sheet on me and asked, “And what do you do for work?”

And I lost it. Just instantly teary and snivelly – and while this might sound somewhat normal for those of you who only know me through the font of angst and misery which has been my blog over the past few months, let me tell you, it is Not. Normal. For. Me. I’m not a cryer, never have been, just finding it both largely ineffective (I have trouble speaking when I’m crying, which means it’s harder for me to win an argument) and the long-term effects just aren’t worth it (I get all splotchy and stuffed up and pathetic, for hours afterward).

So, that was fun.

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Responses

  1. So, this one time, a nun told me I have great pelvic alignment…

    LOL. Sounds like the beginning to a dirty joke!

    Was she sympathetic at least?! I mean, she’s a nun and all. She should have given you a great big hug and made you feel better…both physically and emotionally, right? It’s her job even while she’s doing her PT job.

  2. this story right here is why I have been a hermit lately. It takes nothing to set me off and I hate, hate, HATE crying in front of people. (((hug)))

  3. Good News-The steroid injections don’t hurt.
    Not so Good News-They work about 60% of the time.

  4. Bad nun *slap*. I love steroids, they make me feel normal again!

  5. I am not one for crying either, it makes me feel way too vulnerable. Ed never saw me cry until we were together for more than a year–and trust me when I tell you he made many cry-able offenses. Just wasn’t letting him have it.
    I’ve had a terrible back since my early 20s, when I spent almost a year with oh-my-dear-Lord-in-heaven sciatic nerve pain, the inability to sit down without being in agony. I now never know when my lower back is going to betray me. The only thing worse is the type of morning sickness I get, and what’s super is when they happen together.

    But what’s worse than any of that is depression. I think we can face anything when we can remain hopeful. I hope you begin to get some relief from Zoloft, don’t be afraid to have the dose upped! It took only an extra 25mg to put me where I need to be to be “normal.” If I go back down to 50 instead of 75, the dark cloud of doom and death descends upon me and my entire household. I’m praying that you feel better soon, in every way.

  6. Did she at least have something comforting to say when you started crying?

  7. I hope the nun was nice and consoling. I’m sorry you cried it out in public.

    ((hugs))

    It had to be the surreal full habit nun sitting across from you that triggered the crying. As if that question is easy, much less occurring in such a… WEIRD circumstance.

    Plus nuns have scary magic that makes you tell them things. Beware. I have many sister aunts who can get me to spill the beans just by smiling at me. Odd, that.

  8. Wait a sec… a nun??? Your PT???


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