The Pain of Fibromyalgia

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I don’t write about it often. At times. the mental pain of B’s five year affair has occupied me enough so I figure who really wants to listen about the physical pain that resides in my body…not me. Usually, I ignore it. Pretend if I don’t acknowledge it that it doesn’t exist. But the pain of fibromyalgia is often with me and for the past month it has been my constant companion My legs burn all day long and at night I wake up often as the burning pain creeps from my toes to my thighs rumbling like thunder across the grassy plains.

The soreness and muscle fatigue also snake through my shoulders and down my arms until my arms are so heavy it feels as if they are pulling a tank.  My neck often feels as if it is missing the very threads needed to keep it on straight as if the parts don’t line up and the awkward angle throbs. Combined with the fibro fog in my brain which makes studying almost useless and retention of facts nearly impossible..well, let’s just say I have had better days.

Usually I have managed to keep the pain at bay by keeping stress down, meditation, light exercise like walking and getting enough rest. But since I left B the pain has intensified to the point of being unbearable at times. I don’t know if it because I am under a different type of stress or if the sadness I am feeling is just making itself at home throughout my body. Or perhaps, when I had my family I was so busy and was depended on to such an extent that I couldn’t just sink into the pain and let it envelope me. But now, in this new life I hurt. Every inch of me aches and this physical pain combined with the mental torment has produced a tsunami that is pulling me under. Today the pain was so bad it was difficult t get out of bed without crawling on the floor first to find the support I needed to lift myself up.

THIS SUCKS.

Long story short, I went to the doctor today crying like a fool and she has put me back on the typical meds available to fibromyalgia patients. There really isn’t a great treatment available unless you go the Dr. Paul St. Armand way which is probably the closest thing to finding a path towards relief. I have his book…somewhere… and plan to look at it again when found.

In the meantime, I have decided to try and get more sleep, eat more greens and increase my meditate time in an attempt to cleanse my body of things that damage it instead of holding on to those things that keep it in a state of disrepair. Perhaps with the meds and taking better care of myself I can bring myself back from the brink of never-ending pain to that of just manageable pain…and with it a way to view life in a more positive way because I am tired of these “growing” pains.OIP-1

 

Gone For Good

Last night, as I was drifting off to sleep I had a wonderful idea for a blog piece. I knew I should kick the covers off of my feet, trot downstairs, and write the idea down. But I didn’t and, of course, this morning I can no longer remember what that most excellent idea was. Believe me when I say it was fabulous because it was…the fringes of my mind tell me so.

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This isn’t the first time this “mysterious” loss of memory has happened. I have had “million dollar” ideas that would change the world in profound ways that were lost somewhere in my dreams. I have had ideas for novels fly down the rabbit hole and other important thoughts vanish into thin air upon awakening. But the worst thing about all this is that my memory loss no longer occurs only when I lay my head on my pillow but throughout the day as well. It’s getting scary.

Just yesterday, I walked into a different room three times during the coarse of the day and could no longer remember what I had come into the room for in the first place. I also call my children the wrong names to the point that they now answer to “Hey, you!”  And I have five pairs of glasses from five different periods in my eyewear life floating around my house because I can never find the current prescription pair.  One minute I have 20/20 vision the next 30/70….no wonder my brain seems so scrambled…it’s constantly getting mixed signals!

I have tried various things in an effect to improve my memory. For a while kale became my “go to” snack. I ingested so much fish oil that I started to grow gills. I increased my sleep time but than only seemed to increase the fog. I even bought one of those free improve your memory apps but it expired before I remembered to use it. Yes, I think I have tried it all.

You would think with all the pharmaceutical “cures” for this disease or that affliction that they could come up with something that would help those of us who are “memory challenged.” I have even gotten so desperate that I have considered pilfering my neighbors viagra because:

a. I know his wife doesn’t want to have sex with him anymore and I owe her big time because she has kept her mouth shut after what could be considered a blackmailable event.

b. I figure if that if little blue pill can make a dick go up then it certainly can make my memory quotient and IQ increase as well.  I am fairly certain that if it mimics what happens “down there” way “up there,” it should make my mind stronger, straighter and last much longer. And we all know that men’s brains reside in the head of their penis.

Unfortunately, “Tom” keeps this “family jewel” of a prescription locked up tighter than Fort Knox so testing my hypothesis is proving to be more difficult than I had originally anticipated. And while I would like to think viagra would increase my ability to remember things, with all my luck it would just give me “iceberg” nipples for the rest of my life.

When my friends and neighbors begin to realize the extent of my problem they tried to be tolerant and  kind but after you have stood them up for coffee five times it grows old. Yet, they still continue to assure me (I think) that this is only menopause fog and that it will get better especially once all of my kids are out of the house. These same friends have also begun to share their deepest darkest secrets with me knowing that within two hours I will no longer remember what they have said and they swear my advice is good as gold.Yes, I’m now the confessional priest of my neighborhood to such an extent that I am sure church attendance is way down and that the “Vatican mob” will be coming after me soon.

Yet, even with all my memory loss issues I still believe I am way ahead of the game and that a possible presidential run is in my future. After all, Hillary is unable to remember where 30,000 emails disappeared to and The Donald has uttered the words “I don’t remember” probably close to a million times during the hundreds of depositions he has given in court proceedings against him.

In the meantime, in an attempt to keep myself safe, I am contemplating a reverse tattoo which when viewed in a mirror will list my address and phone number so that I can make it home. And I think it might work …. if I can just remember that it is there.

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