I don’t recall my last day without pain. I know that my first pregnancy was almost
pain-free, and my second pregnancy nearly was – I mainly battled fatigue during
that one, but I honestly can’t remember what it’s like to not hurt, even though
I know I’ve had some decent days in the past.
Most days I wake up, take stock of what’s aching, decide
it’s an acceptable level of pain and then get up and go anyway. In fact, I’ve done that for many years. It’s how I managed to hold down a full-time
job for so long. But some days the pain
isn’t an ache.
Sometimes the pain is like last night, a hot throb
throughout my entire body, sort of like a giant toothache. I sleep for about 29 or 30 minutes, wake up wrapped
in pain, deal with the agony for about 2 hours and then doze back off again,
mainly out of sheer exhaustion. I’ve had
this pain pattern on and off for years.
I’ve always assumed, since the naps are almost always to the exact
minute, that this pain has something to do with my sleep cycle.
Then there’s the pain like I’m having today. It’s a weird buzzing, like I’ve got static electricity
running throughout my entire body. It’s
not the big jolts like you get when someone’s just crossed the carpet in the
middle of winter and then touched a doorknob.
This version of pain is non-stop - a constant buzz that is aggravated by
anything that touches me. This is the
day when it hurts to wear clothes, so I sit around in frumpy cotton stuff. I don’t care what it looks like. All I know is that there are times when soft
cotton is the only thing that prevents me from slaughtering quite a bit of the
human race.
There are sharp pains, shooting pains, even short and
long pains. There’s just pain, and there
are times when it’s easy to get lost in it.
I want to just curl up in bed and cry it away. But crying doesn’t work. It never goes away. I have to challenge myself.
I try not to give in to the pain often. There are times when I do, when I just stay
wrapped in my blankie, cocooned in my soft bed.
Then there are times when I challenge myself. “Let’s see how long it takes to get to the
bathroom.”
Hey that wasn’t so bad!
Now, let’s see what I have to do to fix some breakfast. I bet I can do it. I just have to pace myself. I try not to think about the entire day, the
week, or anything even close to that. I
just focus on the next task at hand. It
doesn’t seem so daunting then.
I also think of those that have it worse than I do. Yes, I hurt.
Yes, I’m exhausted. Yes, I can’t
even remember where my socks are, but I’m alive, I have a roof over my head,
and my sons are healthy and doing well.
I could have it worse.
Plus, there are a few things in this world that never
fail to bring a smile to my face. My
sons are one. I love those boys. The Hounds of Hell, heck, even when they’re
aggravating the daylights out of me, can usually make me smile. Titan and his pitiful ears – just picture Jar
Jar Binks. The sound of a baby’s
laughter – how can you not smile at that?
Kittens at play and National
Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, they both make me laugh as well. I guess it’s a just a question of changing my
perspective on bad days.
I guess Fibromyalgia may have interrupted my life. I just have to remember to not let it stop
it. Sometimes I have to remember to
live.
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