Monday, October 1, 2007
Taking it as it comes-Fibro Flares
I'm well into my fourth day with no central air/heat/FAN and it's not the best time I can think of. The ac unit shuddered it's last on Thursday, and I can't say as I blame it after seventy-plus years in service. Before you scream "she's never changed that unit???" out loud, here's the thing: I'M A RENTER!!! It took a day to get Jose out to look at it, and andther two to discuss it, take pictures, etc. I maintained throughout, and prayed that the cold front was still coming. It did, and we were fine through the weekend, except for the hideous allergy related migraine I got from sleeping with the windows open. Friday brought more I'm An Adult Now bliss with my monitor blowing up, never to restart again. Happily my neighbor loaned my an extra he had, and I paid up one more week on the rental CPU.
What does all of this have to do with fibromyalgia? Fibro Flares, that's what! Stress can precipitate a nasty melange of symptoms that range from mildly annoying to incapacitating. Muscles ache and tighten up, fatigue makes every step seem like a mile, and a thick veil of "fibro fog" settles on the brain, making the simplest tasks and errands herculean in the ammount of effort taken to complete them. Depression may worsen, old surgery sites may become inflamed and damage nerves irratable. Fibro flares will get your full attention(what's left of it anyway)and demand that you deal with it PDQ!
If you are lucky anough to have a spouse and family, they can cushion the blow a great deal by simply understanding that you aren't functioning at 100 percent. Your kids will still come up with heinous forgotten homework assignments at 10pm. Hubby will still bitch and moan about having to put a load in the washer. You will still have to do most of the things you do to keep them going, but a little communication and planning ahead will go a long way in helping you get to the other side of a fibro flare. Posting a chart on the fridge of chores to be delegated when mom isn't feeling well will take some of the load off. Again, in concert with the theme of this blog--we aren't looking to cure Fibromyalgia, just trying to learn how to get through the day, so sitting down with your family before you have a flare will go a long way in helping you and yours survive and thrive.
If you live alone and have no family support, you need to be that much more prepared than our friends with families. How the heck am I supposed to do THAT? If you're reading this now while in the middle of a bangin' fibroflare, you can't imagine preparing for anything at all--but you can. I have a little notebook that I carry around with me and I make lists in it. Grocery and household lists, passwords, errands, people I see, their names and details about them to prompt my memory. At the top of each page I put down: Grocery, Dog Park People, Bills Due, so when I'm out, I flip thru before I get out of the car and it remindes me of what I need to pick up, etc. Finish your rounds by checking your pharmacy page, and seeing that you have ALL of your scrips. I picked up all of my meds today. I can't afford them, so it will be scrappy eating this month, but better that than scrappy eating and constant pain. Make sure you have comfortable clothes to change into that are attractive enough that you don't feel like a total schlep. I never feel good when I feel unattractive. Drag your butt in the kitchen, make the coffee for the morning, and have your meds ready. Mornings are 99% hell, especially when you are going it alone, so do what you can to ease the pain. I remember asking my rheumatologist what I was supposed to do, when "they" had officially deemed me disabled and I have never forgotten her response: "when you feel bad, rest and try to take care of yourself, when you feel good, enjoy the day and get ready for when you will feel bad again".
I'm sure this sounds a little more than remedial, but when you are completely on your own you can't wait for someone to save you because it just ain't gonna happen.
You have to save yourself.
You can save yourself.
I do it every day.
Labels: chronic pain, fibro flares, fibromyalgia, living with chronic pain
posted by Francis Miranda, LLC @ 18:49 2 comments
Monday, September 24, 2007
Good Morning World!
If the mere thought of a morning person sets your teeth on edge, don't feel bad, you are not alone. The only reason I am ever up in the wee hours is because I couldn't sleep and never went to bed in the first place. That was the case this morning and instead of dragging around worrying about how many consecutive hours I have been awake and whether or not it will bring on a fibromyalgia flare--I got my shorts on and headed out for my walk. It was dark and that did give me pause, but I had my cellular and my big ole' "cop-light". It's one of those big, scary things that you often see the boys in blue lugging around. It takes eight d-cell batteries and is guaranteed to make any would-be assailant think twice. It also comes in handy helping me navigate potholes in the dark.(I just had a horrible mental image of me falling into a pothole or something and having to lay there until it was light and someone came along to help me out. Ewwwww)
Getting back to my original thought, I've been walking for over a month now and have lost almost 20lbs. In the beginning I was in so much pain I could barely manage more than a sad little shuffle of sorts, and those of you who have attempted exercise regimes in public before will know of the embarrassment that occurs when the little packs of super-blonde, super-skinny little women hit the roads with their friends and personal trainers (*gag), and you are there shuffling along like Tim Conway's little old man character on the Carole Burnett Show! It's just SAD, I tell you! I will spare you the discussion on blisters and the subsequent liberal application of duct tape.
I am here to tell you that there IS hope! I've persevered and every day it has became a little less painful as my screaming joints became reaccustomed to the jolting and repetetive movement. Actually that is one of several central themes around which this blog will revolve: Fibromyalgia sufferers generally have a very difficult time planning on participating in any regular event, especially exercise! IT HURTS, and you never know if the pain and fatigue will be such that leaving the house is impossible. In my case, I began to see where I was decompensating at a fairly rapid clip after my sixth back surgery last year, and it had really gotten so bad that it was very hard for me to even take my dogs out! It was the very real possiblilty of a wheelchair looming large in my future that forced me back into walking every day. Bearing that in mind--I'm not planning on being restored to my former good health, or that I will join the ranks of those fit little women who fly around the neighborhood in their Nike Airs every single day. I have Fibromyalgia, and I can't plan that far ahead. What I CAN do is go for a walk TODAY. I did just that, and I feel a good deal better for it.
If I let my mind run away with me, I'll be planning an intricate super-duper healthy diet, looking into adding weight-bearing exercises to strengthen myu core muscles, and signing up fo my first 5k as a remissing Fibro patient! Of course there would be film cameras there to capture my victorious crossing of the finish line! Now I do say all that in a facetious manner, but there IS some truth behind the humor: I ALWAYS jumped in with both feet, to everything I took on--and the very real truth is that now, I just can't do it. So where does that put me--somewhere between total immobility and depression because "I can't do anything!" and totally overdoing it and quickly becoming overwhelmed and overcome with various Fibro Nastiness--which will also land me right back in my chair, going nowhere.
What to do??? JUST GET THROUGH TODAY! That is the bedrock upon which this blog was conceptualized. Perhaps you can't walk any further than to the mailbox out in the hallway--so walk to the mailbox at the end of the hallway and feel good that you got moving! Take the dogs ten steps further out into the yard when they're being take out to potty, and then actually let yourself feel good about the fact that today you did one thing to help yourself live a little better with chronic pain and fibromyalgia.
*Remember, all you have to do is get through today--and you can stand just about anything for that short little time period, and like my Dad said "Tomorrow's a new day--but it's not here yet"! So do something about today, and the rest will take care of itself.
Labels: chronic pain, exercise, fibromyalgia, walking with fibromyalgia
Monday, September 24, 2007
Good Morning World!
Friday, September 21, 2007
Singin' the CPU Blues
My replacement computer fell through. I had already returned the rental (277% interest--ppfftttt) Going into complete computer withdrawal, I rented another CPU (I have the rest of the stuff) and am back online, at least until the 29th.
If you aren't sure what Complete Computer Withdrawal is like at my house, looky here:
I began crocheting a scarf.
Yes, crocheting.
I took this pic about an hour ago (EST), so sorry for the dark, but I did place a poodle in the field for scale.
HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Yep, he's pissed. I woke him up for THAT. Anyway, I was crocheting and chain smoking and I'm happy to say that I'm doing neither since my rental CPU arrived.
In other Dog's Life news--I'm in the process of setting up a blog that will actually render some income
It's interesting, trying to separate out all the information out there--I know how to blog, but the ins and outs of affiliate networking, Google In General, and brushing up on HTML coding has had me very close to tears on more than one occasion. Thank heavens for Heather is all I have to say!
There is something interesting called the sandbox effect, where newly registered domain names, or several other factors deemed flag-worthy by Google will be sent to "the sandbox" to play nicely with others for an undisclosed period of time. There's a lot of debate about it, even down to whether the effect even exists or not. Who knew? Another factor is the age of your blog--some ad sites require a preset number of posts, in addition to the number of days you've been in existence. Since I can't do anything about the age of the blog, I've discovered that my efforts in JLand have borne a nice little treasure trove of posts for me to delve into. I've been going through, editing for content and grammar, leaving out some of the more personal information and adding the Technorati tags that will be necessary later to get me found out there! Man-o-man, I thought I knew how good we have it here in JLand, as far as HTML, but (in the words of Miss Spears) DANG YA'LL! There are also nice little sites out there that actually BUY content for the folks who either don't care to, or don't know how to write, on everything under the sun, so I'll be submitting a good chunk of material in that direction too.
My new blog will be along the lines of chronic pain, chronic back pain, or fibromyalgia, all topics I feel I have a pretty good working knowledge of, and hopefully I can put something out there that will help that one poor schmoe that just got back from the doctor's office with a handful of scrips and a body full of hurt.When we're up and running I'll drop a link, in the meantime (really) ya'll drop in on HeatheratHome and leave her a comment, if only to leave your condolences at what she now has on her hands (me).
The Gerbies are fine-Moe's back is holding out and Mr Scribbles is holding steadfast to his resolution to totally ignore Kudzu--our newest addition. Yesterday I was stretched out watching the news, and Kudzu decided that Poodle CurlyQ's looked much more interesting than mine, and launched himself (think flying brick due to clipped wings) onto Scrib's back. Thank heavens he's more afraid of me that he is of that bird--he didn't move a muscle, and I scooped Kudzu up and off, PDQ too! My efforts were rewarded with a glare of sheer disgust that you won't find just anywhere-- ROLF(rotten dog) but he got over it, and Kudzu lived through it, so I'm happy.
I've been walking almost every morning for the past three weeks or so, and have the blisters to prove it. I actually had to take a few days off this week to let them heal (nasty), but they are healed, for the most part, and I better get my butt out there before it gets too hot. Thanks for the comments and emails regarding my silence and sorry I couldn't get ya'll a message that I was okay. If it looks like I can't get a permanent replacement by the 29th and have to go offline again, I'll be sure to leave a message!
Tags: updates, blog ads, living well with fibromyalgia
Old Prose [test post]
lady soldier
depressed housewife
with her
silent child
ambiguous computer salesman
dog daddy
Second Lifer--missing this one?
grieving photographer
reticent nurse
fundraiser without a cause
henna-haired teacher and her
good ole' boy plumber
with
forked tongue
trapped teenager on the cusp
who will he become?
the silent gamer on the roof
oil painter
big women
with small dogs and
too many divorce stories to mention.
the stalled academic
canary lady
shadow lurking lesbian
creative writer behind closed blinds
how can she see?
the woman with her broken
bleeding
heart in her hands
the high-minded and the righteous
the lost
the defeated.
all living in genteel poverty
healing or hiding?
perhaps gathering themselves to take
that great leap of faith back
into the world of the living?
or
are they too afraid to move
ticking off the days
until they are released
from this particular vale of tears.
*March 5, 2005
This particular morning started out like any other. I woke up to a poodle's unwavering stare-ready to get goin', Mom! :sigh:
I groped my way to the coffee pot and took my meds, (think Tin Man sans' his oil can!) and uncovered the birds, quietly saying Morning Little Ones to them and making sure they had feed enough to let me sit and enjoy my coffee, but Baby Bird had other plans.
He's a happy little fellow, and as I was waiting for coffee, I fed him a few Cheerios, his favorite snacky-food that's (sorta?) good for him. He thinks I am his mother, so I lean against the wall next to his cage (Peek's old one) and hand feed him. Well, a variation of that: I talk to him, telling him what a good boy he is, etc, and pop a Cheerio (singular) into my mouth and, holding it between my lips, let him take it from me and eat it. He just loves this and I'm all for anthing that keeps the pre-coffee peace. It also stimulates him to forage around his cage and find food I've placed there for him and eat it on his own.
Everything's going fine, coffee almost ready and I see that he's converted his (clean) water dish into what is known in bird circles as "poo-soup". It's the only thing about birds I really find revolting. LOL They perch on the rim and just let loose whenever they feel like it. Nasty, nasty, nasty--as they might just drink it, if you leave it that way for long, and Im not going to let him take Cheerios from my lips with a beak that's been dipped in poo. So I make a mental note to change it after coffee, and settle down to read the paper and wake up.
Next thing I know, there's a Great Racket Issuing Forth from Baby Boy's corner, and I can't tell what happened, but he is DRENCHED. Not cutie-pie bird-bathey damp, but DRENCHED. It really scared me for a minute, he looked so pitiful--and I'm not sure if he went for a drink and fell in, or just decided it was time for a swim, but nevertheless the damage was definitely done and I had a Possibly Poo-Souped Dripping Bird on my hands--literally.
So I put a pillow on my lap, wrapped the little joker up in a hand towel and proceded to clean & dry him off--one soaked feather at the time. LOL
The heat wave has warranted keeping the air on high just to keep up,so I couldn't leave him to air-dry himself--too cold in here and he was shivering. He stayed cocooned like that for almost an hour, so I will watch him to see if it's for fun, or he's just manipulating me to hold him like that-LOL. Quaker Parrots have the intellect, when full grown, of a 3-5yr old human child, so it's not out of the question!
**I finally got all the paperwork in the mail today to get a permanent plate on my (new to me) car, so it's off to the DMV--Happy Days!
Stem Cells? Oh my achin' back!
Any back pain/surgery sufferer will tell you that they would happily endure any number of horse-sized needles to have reduced back pain and yeah, it is that bad. Cross your fingers that this method will prove to be both safe and effective, as well as neatly silencing the stem cell god-squad.
"Learn About Stem Cells. I've seen the future of back surgery firsthand. And it looked to me, from behind my surgical mask, as if a woman's bare behind was doing much of the work. Up close, huddled inside the Centeno-Schultz Pain Center, I joined a team of M.Ds., a Ph.D., and two nurses to witness orthopedic history in vivo: an adult stem cell transplant to help bones and joints grow anew.
In the midst of the huddle, Centeno, the back- and neck-pain specialist, is plunging a needle that looks big enough to use on a horse deep into the hip bone of a 54-year-old weekend athlete and skier who's been forced to the sidelines by injury and long-term lower-back pain. The patient is tired of pain pills but wary of major surgery. Instead she's undergoing one of the first ASC orthopedic transplants in the nation.
The harvested stem cells will be used to grow millions of new ones that will be implanted in her back to spur and regenerate more youthful, healthy joint tissue -- if all goes as planned in this part of an ongoing study approved by a medical research institutional review board, that is. So far, at least, it has. Early MRI pictures of related procedures have shown impressive growth of regenerative tissue. And there's even better news: By using the patient's own stem cells, the surgical team avoids the ethical debate over using embryonic tissue for research purposes."
-Resources: http://body.aol.com/news/articles/_a/five-operations-you-dont-want-to-get/20070730110909990002
I hope everyone's ready for a good long weekend. It's quiet here, as usual. People take off to family and friends and I pretty much have the run of the place. Not sure whether that's good or bad. LOL
Not much to say today, other than the ebay search for a new computer continues, and the meter is running on this one, so it won't go on for too long.
My thoughts do go out to Owen Wilson. I am somewhat surprised at the the comments made by various talking heads this morning. They keep saying how shocked they are thay he attempted suicide because "he's such a funny guy". Funny covers up a lot of things.
**A legal analyst on Fox this morning said she just wouldn't be one bit surprised if they found evidence of some "cronyism" related to Mike Nifong's one day sentence for almost ruining the lives of three Duke lacrosse players. Cronyism? Duh--
Tags: Labor Day Weekend, Owen Wilson, Mike Nifong's golf buddies
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Saturday, September 8, 2007
Finding a rock in a sea of pain
The therapeutic use of pets as companions has gained increased attention in recent years. Unlike people, with whom interactions may be complex and unpredictable, animals provide a constant source of comfort and focus for attention. Animals make people happy. Research shows that interacting with animals can help people feel less lonely and depressed, reduce stress-induced symptoms, offer entertainment, and provide a welcome distraction from chronic pain and illness. A study of 100 Medicare patients found a significant drop in prescription costs when a service or therapy animal was introduced.
Smaller breeds of dogs have been effective in relieving common fibromyalgia symptoms, such as decreased energy levels and chronic pain. Dogs provide fibromyalgia patients with a sense of grounding when they are caught in fibrofog. Through their unconditional love, dogs encourage FMS patients to be more active, obtain better range of motion and better balance. Overall, fibromyalgia patients have found these dogs to give them a sense of security and independence they had never known before. These pets have given their owners the courage to tackle daily tasks and work with renewed vigor.
I never knew that I could derive all of those benefits and more from anything but a dog, but now I can and do. Here is is our story:
I ventured out one spring evening in 2001 to hit Petsmart for a month's worth of dogfood and rawhide, not suspecting that my life was about to take a hugt turn for the better. I passed through the huge bilateral doors and into the Wide, Wild World of ginormous dogs and their mostly clueless owners. There was a huge plexiglass display on my immediate left that hadn't been there before. In it were loads of interesting looking toys in it and I was curious to see the animal that must be in there somewhere. Halfway there I was hung up by an overly-friendly Bull Mastiff with his owner screaming on the other end of his leash. Nice. I disantangled myself and continued on searching the cage. Presently I saw a tiny little lavender bird with orange spots where the ears should be and the most inquisitive little personality! I saw here and she definitely saw me. It was love at first sight.
I don't even like birds.
I'd take a few steps, and this fascinating little peeper would scramble over toys, ladders and rocks to keep up with me. I'd move closer to get a better look, and she'd scoot herself to the highest toy that was nearest to me and burst into a a tinkly sort of chatter that was hard to resist. Then she would pouf all out, shake her tailfeathers, get settled again and cock her head to focus her eye right on me. I tried to fake her out to no avail. All thoughts that this little creature was only responding to the noise in the store or merely to the hulking shadows all around her clear plexiglass cage evaporated on the spot. She was a smart little thing!I leaned down, with a warped test in mind: if I spoke to her and she responded in some way I could recognise, I'd take her home with me. So I walked all the way around the plexiglass monstrosity, chattering back and forth with my new little friend and she accompanied me every step of the way. An hour later and with a somewhat lighter wallet in my pocket, we went home together.
She's named Peekaboo Street after the Olympian downhill racer and she is, if I had to pick a behaviorally similar species, a cross between an extremely friendly cat and one of those cute, fuzzy, lop-eared bunnies...with a little puppy goofball humor mixed in. No kidding. There are many Peekaboo stories, the most exciting of which involves a really miserable date with Mr.Business-Owner, an open screen door, and ten Peek-less days. Misery. No other word for it, but against all odds she found her way home (via a Good Samaritan and some hot pink "Lost Bird" flyers) and I love her to bits.
She is 125 grams of pure love and affection, and has gotten me through more mornings of screaming back pain than I care to recount. Her care and keep isn't much, but it adds structure to my days and I enjoy it very much. Peek sits atop her cage supervising my efforts and lets me know real quick if she doesn't approve of how things are going. She's a wonderful companion and and it's very hard to keep my mind on my chronic back pain when my little buddy is snugged up under my chin or riding around on my shoulder.
