I think I’ve said that flare-ups suck donkey balls. I’m fairly certain that I’ve said it, but if not, I’ll say it now.
Pain flare-ups from Fibro suck donkey balls. Especially when said flare-ups last more than just a few days or a week. I’m going on a little over a month. Feels like it’s getting worse instead of better. I can understand why some who have Fibro turn to narcotics or to medicinal Mary Jane.
I’ve been in such a bad pain flare-up that I just can’t seem to get out of it, and I’m having trouble now caring about how I handle it. Not caring about avoiding trigger foods; it’s an effort to ignore the danger foods at picnics and as a guest at someone’s house. Not caring about how much pain I’m actually in as long as I can rest and not think about much. Reading helps. I doze if I watch TV. The chronic fatigue hits badly during this flare.
I can’t even muster up enough energy to feel discouraged. My body is tired, my brain is tired, and I’ve been feeling Mom Guilt over not being available for all of the girls’ school things the way I should be. The way I promised I would be, and I promised wouldn’t change when I went back to work. I never imagined my weekends would be for recovery and I would dread going out anywhere most times on a weekend, especially on a Friday after work. I dread going anywhere on a day after work. I’m off today, though, to attend a PPT and for another appointment.
Since starting work again, my social life has definitely tanked. I’m just too tired. Friendships have suffered. My wallet enjoys the paycheck for sure. So do our groceries and bills. But I’m nearly too tired for anything else. Gracie frequently asks me when my boss is going to fire me. My youngest, 9, recently informed me that she also hates it when she’s home and I’m not there to greet her off the bus. The girls are all three of them upset that the “new” routine of 19 MONTHS now means I’m not home as much as they’d like. They’re upset that I’m in more pain more often, and it seems to them I’m more tired all the time. I probably am. So, you know, Mom Guilt. Especially when I have to send The Husband in my place. The sad thing? The girls are getting used to it and don’t complain much any more when I’m in so much pain or feeling so sick from the pain that I can’t go with them all.
Weekends are usually used, when possible, to recover from the week. I try to take it easy and do what needs to be done at a leisurely pace. Of course that isn’t always possible. The flare is not going away, and I wonder if my inability to have any sort of recovery time is to blame.
The past two or three weekends were unheard of. Just on Memorial Day weekend: two birthday parties and a barbeque, one party for each day of the long Memorial Day weekend. This weekend we had my beautiful niece “Kay” sleep over and she’s just a joy to have around no matter what. Thinking about her is making me grin while I write this. Then Sunday after bringing her home, we celebrated three more birthdays and stayed out all day long. I overdid it both weekend.
I did wake up with a new pain in my right shoulder which could be due to being manipulated and maneuvered by my PCP yesterday at my physical. I could have slept wrong last night, but in any case it’s there. Sharp. Worsens when I walk or move my left arm (what???) or turn my head or try to flip pancakes. I’m going with “happened during the physical because of how she made me position myself.” OH!!! I’m so special that she likes to see me for an annual physical every six months now. ::sigh:: But here’s why I love her: she has clearly done a lot of homework regarding Fibromyalgia. She wasn’t quite as knowledgeable the last couple of times I saw her. She was ok with the knowledge but a lot of it had been somewhat outdated. This time she was on the ball and up-to-date and far more compassionate. She’s always been compassionate but she was able to connect so many issues I’ve had for years and asked me a lot of questions and said,
“Oh, don’t blame yourself on this. It’s the Fibromyalgia. You try. You work hard. But you still have the Fibromyalgia and that makes it harder. I’m not worried about your weight. Maybe you now pay attention and eat more calories and get more fat… your body is making too much sugar and you don’t get enough calories. But you eat right, you are active and you work and spend time with your family.”
I do love this doctor. She’s really good, with a great bedside manner.
I was so anxious about going to that appointment. I always have anxiety going to my physicals. When I walked in yesterday it was an increasingly high pain day, and she noticed. I think everyone noticed. I think I’ve fooled myself into believing that when I’m having breakthrough pain, pain that my Gabapentin can’t reduce my daily pain to “still hurts but is tolerable and can be ignored,” I can still hide the face that I’m having severe pain. Pain that, if I weren’t taking the Gabapentin I would be writhing on the floor crying. Anyway, she noticed and was very gentle and I could see the compassion on her face. I didn’t see that compassion on my rheumatologist’s face. I’m still certain that my rheumatologist thought I was drug-seeking. Luckily my PCP knows me and has since I was 25.
We actually talked about that yesterday: pain management and being fearful of looking like a drug-seeking addict. She turned to me and said,
“Don’t ever say that. You need to manage the pain. Pain is not good for the rest of your health. If you’re in pain, you can’t be healthy or do anything. Besides, you went far too long to even ask for help managing your pain. ::scoff::”
And then I remembered how she has tracked my pain, and how when I asked her how to go about diagnosing and getting a rheumatologist, etc, she chastised me for waiting so long to ask for help managing the pain (gently and like a mother).
I know, pain is a bummer of a topic but hey, it’s sort of in my face right now. It’s not really a bootstrap moment. But that’s another blog entry.
I know I have a lot to be grateful for. I’ll even do a gratitude journal, which I haven’t done in a long time. It’s not about not being grateful. It’s not about not counting blessings. It’s about, well, the nature of depression, anxiety, and the pain that came and triggered it. The pain is just so much to deal with that I think when it gets this bad for so long, my brain breaks a little bit. My word recall and memory are sucking wind.
Hell, just do a search in my search bar for “fibro fog” and Fibro and you’ll find a mess of stuff about why I feel this way in my brain. My brain is so foggy right now I don’t think I can go through the whole fact thing again and repeat it in this entry. It’s already taken me five or six stops and starts and several revisions on this entry. 🙂
I know I’ll shake it off eventually. For now I think I need to feel this. I need to go through it and cycle it. I make great efforts to remain positive as long as possible every day, but I admit that it’s much more difficult when the pain is so high and I lose hair in handfuls from the flare up, sometimes three times in a week. Maintaining the positivity and the hope for extended periods of time… well… that can feel fake and make the anxiety and depression feel worse. But then I don’t want to bring anyone else down. That feels stressful and… I snap. And I know I’m not as nice as I should be. I find it harder to censor my brain-to-mouth stuff, and people look at me funny. Well, half the time it’s probably because it came out with words in the wrong order or I stated the definition of a word instead of the word itself. But with my nice-filter off… oh, I’m not nice.
I can be vicious. I don’t like being vicious. It’s worse if I feel as if someone has personally attacked my character and motives. It’s much, much worse if I don’t get my morning coffee.
Pain, pain, go away, come again, like, never.