Friday, March 4, 2016


Thursday - Waking up with a hangover is never good, but especially when you haven't drunk a drop. That's another sweet thing fibromyalgia does - takes away your ability to enjoy even an occasional stiff drink, but gives you a hangover anyway. So many mornings I wake up feeling like I'd knocked back three Cosmopolitans the night before when the most exciting thing I'd been drinking was diet Canada Dry ginger ale. This is one of "those" mornings, and my plans for today have flown right out of my head.

This happened a lot when I was still working, and it was pretty damn scary. I never knew what shape I would be in once I landed in the courthouse. My eyesight was impaired and I was unable to lift the box of files to go through the security x-ray. Never mind I had four expert witnesses waiting for me or that I was going to have to explain to the judge once again why my judicial notice packet wasn't ready. The rules of evidence had flown out of my head. 

So it's just another day in paradise. My two pills and half of a quarter of a bagel are sitting aggressively in my esophagus, refusing to move one micron further, and damn, that hurts. I'm cranky. This problem has been dogging me for a week; let's hear it for Wawa's daily soups.

Project Zero is still at the top of my list, but it involves a lot of bending, stretching, and kneeling and besides I have to clean up after the pets. I think I have a few spoons for that.

I've had a whole unemployed year to think about it, and just lately I've decided to live with the fibromyalgia, or perhaps live around it would be a better way of expressing it. We are working on our rocky relationship. When I have that rare good day, I embrace it, without guilt or fear. When I have the all-too-frequent bad day, I embrace it as well. I own this disease; to a very large extent, it does define who I am at this stage of my life. And that's okay - if I have to take an afternoon nap, if I can't get up to wash my face, if I let my chores go for an extra day or two, to quote Walter Cronkite, "that's the way it is," without guilt or fear. (This all sounds great, practically noble, but really - how's that working for you? Bwah ha ha. Yeah, right, me too.)

But right now, I'm still a tad cranky. Time is passing and I'm still stuck in neutral. The good news is that I have Tai Chi tonight. I'm beginning to think of Tai Chi as a marriage counselor between me and the fibromyalgia. I know I've been chewing your ear off about it, but it really does help me learn to live with the fibromyalgia. Just today my teacher posted this link to an article about the documented benefits of Tai Chi for seniors. Read it, then walk (don't run, too much impact) to your nearest Tai Chi class and learn for yourself.

Friday - I pushed myself later in the day yesterday to the point where I must have used up next month's spoons, but it was worth it; things had to get done. And now it is Friday, I have nothing on the calendar except whatever more I can get done on Project Zero, whatever sock knitting I can manage, and a nap. No cooking, no cleaning, no wearing a bra, no shopping, and no feeling guilty about any of it. Relax, relax, and relax some more. Maybe I'll moisturizer my hands.

I know I make too many Doctor Who references, but I don't feel guilty about that either.

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