1 Week Post-Op: My Recovery Update After Iliac Vein Stenting for May-Thurner Syndrome

It’s hard to believe it’s already been a full week since surgery! I wanted to share a full update for anyone curious about what this recovery can actually look like: the progress, the setbacks, and the very real unpredictability that comes with healing from a May-Thurner Syndrome stent procedure.

Before vs. After: Symptom Changes at 1 Week

Here’s a side-by-side of how some of my pre-surgery symptoms compare to how I’m doing now, one week out:

Pre-Surgery Symptoms

• Abdominal bloating, pain & nausea with exertion
  → This continues to be my most persistent issue. Still dealing with daily bloating that increases throughout the day-it seems more linked to upright activity than food.

• Right leg swelling (worse than left)
  → Haven’t noticed swelling yet, but I’m also not on my feet nearly as much as usual.

• Burning in feet/lower legs
  → No burning currently, again, could be related to lower activity.

• Left foot swelling & pain when walking
  → Also not currently present, but walking is still limited and gentle.

• POTS symptoms (dizziness, fatigue, rapid HR on standing)
  → No dizziness so far. Still getting increased heart rate with position changes, but less fatigue overall.

Post-Surgery Symptoms: 1 Week Check-In

Recovery symptoms have shifted a bit. Here’s where I’m at now:

• Low back/tailbone pain
  → Intermittent and variable (0–4/10), not on any pain meds. Can't quite pin down triggers yet.

• Pelvic/abdominal pain
  → Still daily but inconsistent. Often worsens with walking or as bloating increases.

• Bloating
  → Typically starts the day off mild but worsens as the day goes on. Seems tied more to time upright and activity than to food.

• GI symptoms (constipation, diarrhea, gas)
  → Still variable and unpredictable.

• Left hip/buttocks nerve pain
  → Present some nights but not daily. Less frequent overall.

• Fatigue
  → Much improved. No longer needing daily naps and slowly easing into more family activity.

• Tramadol reaction (rash, swelling, itching)
  → Resolved completely after discontinuing the medication.

What I’m Currently Able to Do

My activity level is still far from baseline, but here’s what I’ve been able to comfortably do in this first week:

• Short walks (typically under 1 mile at a time), totaling 2–3 miles per day including light household movement

• Gentle diaphragmatic breathing and core activation

• Daily thoracic and hip mobility work

• Driving short distances

• Helping with the kids, light cooking, cleaning, and basic household tasks (though not at full capacity)

• Working at my computer off and on

• Socializing in a low-key way with visiting friends (mostly couch-based.
  

I’m still under a 15 lb lifting restriction and was advised to take this week off from in-person patient care, which ended up being a good call. Honestly, I wouldn’t have felt ready. Looking ahead, I’m planning to ease back into patient sessions next week.

Reflections: Practicing What I Preach (and Letting Go of Control)

Something I always tell my patients: healing isn’t linear. But wow, is it hard to internalize that when you’re the one doing the healing. I’ve had to keep reminding myself that the ups and downs are part of recovery. I say that to my patients all the time, but living it is another story. It’s frustrating when one day feels encouraging and the next brings setbacks for no clear reason. And while I know this is normal, it doesn’t make it any easier when you’re in it.

This week, I’ve been doing my best to practice what I preach. The PT in me wants to track every symptom, find every pattern, fix every variable. But the truth is, this recovery doesn’t follow a formula. A + B doesn’t equal C. It’s unpredictable, and it takes patience.

The hardest part right now? Not knowing if this is actually going to help me. The main things I hoped to get relief from, exercise and exertion intolerance, daily bloating, and persistent abdominal pain, are still very much present. Some days they’re better, others they’re worse. And it’s a mental battle not to jump to conclusions.

I keep reminding myself that the full impact of this procedure may take 6 months to a year to really unfold. That’s what the research and the doctors say. But living in that limbo space between hope and uncertainty is incredibly hard. It’s the ultimate training in letting go. (Okay, maybe parenting still takes the cake on unpredictability… but this is up there.)

For now, I’m taking things one day at a time, trusting that small shifts are happening beneath the surface even if I can’t fully feel them yet.

Gratitude & Little Joys

Despite the discomfort and mental load, I’m incredibly grateful:

• For Andrew, who’s been endlessly supportive and steady

• For our kids, who’ve adjusted surprisingly well

• For my parents, who once again dropped everything to help

• For the friends who came to visit and made the weekend feel like a celebration, even while I was stuck in lounge mode

• And for all of you who’ve reached out, read, shared and followed along. Truly, it means a lot.

I even put on jean shorts this weekend for the first time and played more Uno than I thought possible in a 48-hour span. Progress, right?

What’s Next

Week 2 will be all about gradually increasing activity, continuing to monitor symptoms, and seeing how my body responds as I return to parts of my routine.

I’ll also be diving deeper into sharing more about May-Thurner Syndrome itself- what it is, how it presents, and why it so often goes undiagnosed.

If you're navigating something similar, I hope this continues to be helpful.

Thanks for being here.