Fibromyalgia

Welcome to my disease. Warning! The following diatribe is not intended for adult consumption. If you can tolerate pissing and moaning, proceed at your own risk. On second thought, don't even go here. Words today are for future relatives who find the remains of my Typepad account buried in the nuclear proof cement block room located two levels below my basement .

Do you know what the term "lulled into a false sense of security," means? It's sort of like when you do something that irritates your wife and she doesn't say anything. And then you do it again and again and again. Suddenly you rejoice in her new found understanding. It is okay to leave your underwear on the bedroom floor. You begin to feel smug and confident and cocky. What's wrong with your buddies' wives? Huh, just don't have em trained proper, you strut. And then your wife's hammer comes down so fast, so brutal and with such prejudice, you willingly turn yourself into the local police department. "Sir, I am guilty for leaving my underwear on the bedroom floor. Lock me up."

As the deputy begins to process your paperwork and assesses your broken jaw and the bruises that he can see, you wonder how you could not possibly have seen this coming.

The underwear that I have thrown on the floor was the five years that I tried to work (as in day job slave) with fibromyalgia. Now, let me briefly explain the little lady's right hook and subsequent body shots that I incurred.

For the last year or so I've existed in the sheltered environment of my own home. When I am able, I do light exercises, read and write. By afternoon I am in so much pain that we do not engage in social activities. At this point I cannot drive a car either. I try to get to bed by 8.

So, being the Einstein that I am, I get the idea that I can do some volunteer work. I talk to the volunteer coordinator and make plans to attend mandatory training - this morning. I wake up this morning underneath a steam shovel. I can barely move.

What was I thinking?? 

I shouldn't tell you this and remove all doubt about my brilliance, but...  Yesterday morning I ran an errand that took three hours. By the time I got home it felt like I ran a marathon and had been up for seven days without sleep. I was so delirious that I didn't even take a pain pill and just collapsed on the bed. I woke up in the worst fog.

My learning experience in all of this and the reason that I am so grateful now, is that I didn't waste any more of this organization's time.

For me this isn't doing some sort of heroic act in spite of my pain, it is about recognizing what the heck I am dealing with and being real with myself. 

If by chance you chose not to follow my advice and actually did read through to this point, show me NO pity. There are millions of people a whole lot worse than me. I believe that I did realize therapeutic value in publicly flogging myself for being so stupid.

Comments

[Deb Estep]

David,

NOT stupid, just NOT playing by the rules of your own system - SUCH - as it is now.

Your intent was in the right place.

xo xo
Debs