I woke in the morning and was greeted with a familiar deep-seated pain that streaked its way through my right hip and settled deep into my rump. An unwelcome houseguest, bursitis, had come for a visit, gearing up for a party in my right side, destined to cause a disturbance.
The unforgiving pain shot through my right buttock with each step; nothing seemed to relieve its brutal presence. The anti-inflammatory, that sometimes soothed the flares of arthritis, didn’t even come close to penetrating the impregnable wall of bursitis.
Bursitis entered my life a couple of years after I was hit by a car; I remember the metal force of it slamming into my right side The arthritis showed up years later; whether or not there is a connection remains and will remain a mystery. Was the bursitis a sign of something more to come? Was it the precursor to the old lady inhabiting my body?
The pain of bursitis is trickier to manage than the inflammation of the old lady. The old lady is a daily visitor, and I have become used to her steady stream of pain; some days she is worse than others, but mostly, I can tolerate her. Bursitis pain is altogether a different story. Set deep into the muscle, nothing can touch him, nothing can sway him from battering me; he is the relentless beast hammering away, determined to cause as much misery as possible. His visits are infrequent, but they can last a few days. He comes without warning, adding his own challenge to the ever-present characteristics of the old lady. The only thing that might conquer his spectre is a dose of cortisone…or the hope that he might just go on his merry way and leave my house in peace.