Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away
Now it looks as though they're here to stay
Oh, I believe in yesterday
Having grown up with The Beatles (yes kids, that is the group Paul McCartney sang with before Wings), it is no surprise that Beatle earworms wind my way a lot more frequently than say something from Run-D.M.C. All it takes is one word and I'm off and running (figuratively speaking, of course. Even Joseph Simmons doesn't run much these days.) Birthday? Lonely? Submarine? Yesterday, of course. Because yesterday I had a good day despite the usual aches and pains. A really good day. Surprised me, it did.
I started off with a visit to the doctor. Not The Doctor and not my primary doctor, but a new doctor who can hopefully help me deal with the fibromyalgia. A rheumatologist doctor. I feel like I just took a giant step forward, that maybe I won't always have a shadow hanging over me (sorry, residual effects of earworm.) A doctor who didn't treat me like a crazy-lazy when I said the pain and the brain fog had caused me to have to stop working. A nice doctor who takes my insurance and is a 5 minute drive from my house, and who has pleasant and accommodating office and medical staff.
And then, when the day couldn't get any better, I had some time to kill while waiting for prescriptions to be filled at the CVS in The Loop (best pharmacy anywhere. Nicest, most helpful and efficient pharacy staff in the world - not easy because CVS has one of the worst computer systems, but these folks rise above it. Awesome.) and I decided to go to Panera for soup. I had a bowl of their creamy tomato which is almost as good as mine, and I ate it sitting at a table in the restaurant. If you know me you know I never take a seat while I'm alone in a restaurant, fast food or otherwise. This was totally out of character for me, and I actually smiled. You can teach an old dog new tricks. I don't have to eat lunch in my car or at my desk anymore. Not that I have a desk. Lost that when me and my job got divorced. Brian has custody of the desk, so it's in good hands. I went into Michael's and bought a coloring book. My reward for having a quasi-normal day.
All that joyfulness wore me out, and I passed out on the couch once I got home, but managed to get up so we could drive to the Dr. Phillips Performing Arts Center in Orlando to see Ina Garten. Wonderful show, I love her and her cookbooks and especially her story about Mel Brooks (talk about earworms! Mine, not Ina's. John Barrowman belting out "Springtime for Hitler." Cleavon Little crooning "I Get No Kick From Champagne." Mel himself, singing "Don't be stupid, be a smarty, come and join the Nazi party." Good times, good times.)
Today is like most other days, which is to say, painful and exhausting. I've been trying to do a few things around the house, with varying results. I cleaned up the pee pads, upstairs and downstairs. I emptied half of the dishwasher. And then I came to a decisive stop and a painful decision: go back to bed. I knew it couldn't last - but for a day, yesterday, it was good. Today, not so good, in fact, not good at all. That burst of energy cost me dearly. Crap.
It's been quite a few hours since I wrote all that. Walking upstairs, the pain in my legs and back were acute. I did pass out, and fortunately I was already sitting on the bed. I'd wanted to show you a few pictures and suddenly I couldn't type nor keep my eyes open. I was trying to work on a mehndi design I've been coloring, and my head started to swim and it was all I could do to get the sharp pencil back in its case so that no one got stabbed. I'm awake now, but only because my bladder was tugging at my hand like that cute little cartoon in the Myrbetriq commercial.
Here are those pictures - the sock is well on its way to completion. The mehndi page has a ways to go, but all it takes is time and well, I've got nothing but. Let me send this off into cyber-space before I pass out again.
To all my Northern friends and relatives, stay warm, stay safe, stay inside your homes. Mother Nature and her devil spawn, El Niño, are both in crappy moods. Don't let them find you in any sort of vulnerable position.
I started off with a visit to the doctor. Not The Doctor and not my primary doctor, but a new doctor who can hopefully help me deal with the fibromyalgia. A rheumatologist doctor. I feel like I just took a giant step forward, that maybe I won't always have a shadow hanging over me (sorry, residual effects of earworm.) A doctor who didn't treat me like a crazy-lazy when I said the pain and the brain fog had caused me to have to stop working. A nice doctor who takes my insurance and is a 5 minute drive from my house, and who has pleasant and accommodating office and medical staff.
And then, when the day couldn't get any better, I had some time to kill while waiting for prescriptions to be filled at the CVS in The Loop (best pharmacy anywhere. Nicest, most helpful and efficient pharacy staff in the world - not easy because CVS has one of the worst computer systems, but these folks rise above it. Awesome.) and I decided to go to Panera for soup. I had a bowl of their creamy tomato which is almost as good as mine, and I ate it sitting at a table in the restaurant. If you know me you know I never take a seat while I'm alone in a restaurant, fast food or otherwise. This was totally out of character for me, and I actually smiled. You can teach an old dog new tricks. I don't have to eat lunch in my car or at my desk anymore. Not that I have a desk. Lost that when me and my job got divorced. Brian has custody of the desk, so it's in good hands. I went into Michael's and bought a coloring book. My reward for having a quasi-normal day.
All that joyfulness wore me out, and I passed out on the couch once I got home, but managed to get up so we could drive to the Dr. Phillips Performing Arts Center in Orlando to see Ina Garten. Wonderful show, I love her and her cookbooks and especially her story about Mel Brooks (talk about earworms! Mine, not Ina's. John Barrowman belting out "Springtime for Hitler." Cleavon Little crooning "I Get No Kick From Champagne." Mel himself, singing "Don't be stupid, be a smarty, come and join the Nazi party." Good times, good times.)
Today is like most other days, which is to say, painful and exhausting. I've been trying to do a few things around the house, with varying results. I cleaned up the pee pads, upstairs and downstairs. I emptied half of the dishwasher. And then I came to a decisive stop and a painful decision: go back to bed. I knew it couldn't last - but for a day, yesterday, it was good. Today, not so good, in fact, not good at all. That burst of energy cost me dearly. Crap.
It's been quite a few hours since I wrote all that. Walking upstairs, the pain in my legs and back were acute. I did pass out, and fortunately I was already sitting on the bed. I'd wanted to show you a few pictures and suddenly I couldn't type nor keep my eyes open. I was trying to work on a mehndi design I've been coloring, and my head started to swim and it was all I could do to get the sharp pencil back in its case so that no one got stabbed. I'm awake now, but only because my bladder was tugging at my hand like that cute little cartoon in the Myrbetriq commercial.
Here are those pictures - the sock is well on its way to completion. The mehndi page has a ways to go, but all it takes is time and well, I've got nothing but. Let me send this off into cyber-space before I pass out again.
To all my Northern friends and relatives, stay warm, stay safe, stay inside your homes. Mother Nature and her devil spawn, El Niño, are both in crappy moods. Don't let them find you in any sort of vulnerable position.
Glad you liked the rheumy - can you DM me and let me know what they prescribed?
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