Recap of backstory:   While in NYC visiting my daughter, I suffered excruciating butt pain and saw a doctor who gave me an injection of  lidocaine so I was able to survive the flight  home.

I didn’t mention it before,  but he also gave me a diagnosis of  Episacral  Fatpad  Impingement Syndrome.  Huh??  When he first said “fat” my brain clanged shut…say what did he just call me???   Even after sort of agreeing that the symptoms matched somewhat, I was still pissed at having the word, the f!  word!, used to describe any condition attached to my Self…

Today I saw my nurse practitioner.  She upgraded me to a sexier  diagnosis of Piriformis Syndrome.  Ah, yes, the good-old piriformis muscle, buried beneath my gluteals…who would suspect such a shy muscle of having such a mean streak?

No, it wasn’t caused by too much twerking…


I’ve got some stretching to do, 6 days of steroids,  and enough narco to get me back to normal (whatever that is).  So that’s that!

Thanks for your concern!  You are the nicest readers a writer could have!