On July 6^th, I will enter Mayo Pain Rehabilitation Center for its 16-day program. I will be in Rochester, MN, for over three weeks.

2026 got off to an inauspicious beginning. I had my 34^th surgery—a left shoulder revision. Shout-out to the Oconomowoc Memorial Hospital staff for their incredible care.

Then came the left hamstring tear, accompanied by a fall down the stairs. Some cardio issues followed and added to my days in the hospital.

A strange thing happened on the way out of the hospital. I was prescribed a statin.

I don’t have high cholesterol, but a scan showed some plaque buildup in my carotid artery. The cardiologist, whom I met for a grand total of five minutes, wrote the statin prescription.

Over the next three months, my condition worsened. I was not only falling apart but was also experiencing spontaneous muscle contractions every evening. I know what you are thinking. Do I mean cramps?

Yes, I was having cramps, but not your run-of-the-mill, everyday cramps. Well, they were happening every day, that’s true. Every night, my left calf would seize up, and it was so tight I couldn’t get it to stop. I had to practically stamp my foot down on the floor to get the muscle to let go.

Every night, my groin muscles were cramping. This is a pain that no one should ever have to feel.

One night, my left hamstring, or what was left of my left hamstring—I’d torn most of it in February—cramped so badly I could not get it to stop. My wife came to the rescue, and after a struggle, we managed to convince the baseball-sized knot in the muscles on the outside of my hamstrings behind the knee to release.

The next morning, when I attempted to stand, I found I couldn’t. The left hamstring had torn while cramping overnight. Yes, that is right. My hamstring tore from a cramp as I rested in the middle of the night.

I contacted my doctor—hell, I contacted all my doctors. Not only was I living through the nightmare of painful nightly cramps, but I was also beginning to feel the signs of weakness in my legs.

Walking was both painful and difficult. I relied more and more on my cane and my scooter. I could barely bend over to pet the little Zuzu, our mini-Australian labradoodle.

I saw my doctor. Of course, we talked about the importance of potassium and checked my blood work. I mean, it makes sense, right? Normally, when people cramp, you check their electrolytes. They cramp because they are dehydrated or missing some key ion.

There was nothing normal about my cramping. But sometimes doctors listen but do not hear you. My other doctors suggested I go see a neurologist or an endocrinologist.

The pain had become unbearable, and I spent several days seriously considering walking into the hospital emergency room.

My wife was so concerned that she turned to the internet. I sometimes warn her not to go down the rabbit hole in search of cures. My connective tissue disorder has no cure. Still, I am glad she did. She came across a known side effect of the statin medication.

I did my own research. It did look like people sometimes reported muscle pain and cramping as a side effect.

I stopped taking the statin. I had an appointment with my own cardiologist a few days later. He looked at the information and agreed that I did not need a statin. My plaque buildup was normal for my age.

One week after stopping the statin, the cramping stopped. I began to feel better.

I went back to my doctor. She tested my creatine kinase, an enzyme that leaks into your blood when muscle tissue is damaged. I also showed her the back of my left leg, where the blood had pooled from the hematoma when my hamstring tore—in my sleep. The test was inconclusive. I’m convinced, however, that statins are not going to be a part of my medicine drawer in the future.

So, on July 6th, I head to Rochester to learn how to live with pain—a few weeks removed from a month of pain that a five-minute appointment handed me. The timing is not lost on me. I’m beginning to wrap up Keeping It Together While Falling Apart—though, as usual, the body has its own opinion about when the story ends.

The GoFundMe campaign opens soon. Thanks for reading, and for sticking with me.