Well, it's been several weeks since I began my personal remodel. How's it going? Mostly good and for that I rewarded myself with a new African violet. I'm up to two now. My last collection of violets got a case of the aphids and went the way of compost, but I digress.
Mostly good is how this rehab thingy is going. I bumped my every other day walks up to 20 minutes a today. Anna (my shepherd for those of you just joining us here) and I crawled through the fence up the road and took a sweet walk on the trails which belong to the big housing development behind us. There are a few occupied homes planted in the old farm field, most of them are empty. Along with the houses there are these 6 miles of mowed walking trails. I don't know if anyone actually walks them; I think more wheelers than people use them. I didn't feel the least bit remorseful trespassing for my walk. Not today. The sun was out and it's 54 degrees on a beautiful late October day. I came home and stretched then meditated to some music. Good on me.
This whole remodel is, like any remodel, work. Tearing up the old and laying down the new takes time and if you want it to last you do it right the first time. Isn't that what our dad's told us? This is all slow going and I guess that's alright. I mean, I am supposed to be slowing things down a bit, learning how to do what I do differently, learning how to conserve energy in little ways throughout my day so that I have something left at the end. I've been pretty good about this slowing down thing and you know what? I get more done. It's like the tortoise and the hare. Slow and steady wins the race.
Still, I find it tempting to go fast. Fast is how I've run for so long that slowing down seems like stopping. Yesterday, at work, I went fast and hard. By the end of the day my hands hurt, my feet hurt, my hips hurt and I found myself holding my breath, a lot. Phooey.
Slowing down, I guess, and somebody who understands that law of physics will explain it to me, doesn't happen all at once. Well I guess it could but I think they call that a crash and I don't want to crash anymore. My slowing down is going to be a bit of speeding up and then slowing down. Keeping up momentum without the crash. Slowing down, without losing momentum.
Peace,
Karen
Friday, October 21, 2011
Sunday, October 16, 2011
That's Enough Now
Really? Really? What's with the ground wanting my boys? First Mike does a somersault with his bike on and now this - Steven rides a ladder down two stories of house and stops his fall with his face. I mean come on already. If I were Danny I'd be putting on a bubble wrap suit.I don't know if you all have been thinking some negative waves or if you drank out of the same glass of bad juju but I'm sayin' "THAT'S ENOUGH NOW." And I mean it. I say it with a foot stomp and furrowed brow and crossed arms in that quite creepy voice you know I use when I'm mad and have had enough.
Did you not hear me say Super Karen is gone? The new Karen is all soft and squishy. Steven, even you saw that today when I could not look at the inside of your lip more than once without getting the squigglies in my belly. Do not do this to your mommy or your wife. Enough is enough.
Love Karen/Mom
PS: That goes for you too Kris and Mandy. Do NOT make me go there.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
The Sound of One Hand Typing...
I find this new mishap to be ironic in a twisted, painful sort of way. Karen and both know enough to be thankful my injuries aren't worse; past experiences have made that clear too many times.
"What is he talking about?"
This morning I took a spectacular header while riding my bike to work. It was the sort of thing that would have been impressive to watch but no one was around and it was dark out. Well okay, there was this old guy who runs with another guy, early in the mornings. We sometimes pass each other on the deserted streets and exchange quick breathless pleasantries as we go our respective ways. If you want to know how I looked in mid-air, flying ass-over-teakettle, ask the old guy. In fact, if you find him, thank him for me. All I know is I experienced a sudden hard jolt and my bike took on a personality.that must be like what bull riders know just before they get stomped into smithereens by a ton and a half of wild rage. My flight might have been one of those things you see on YouTube and laugh at. Even the part where the guys lands all wonky and lies there, twisted and broken. Except I didn't get to say "Hold my beer and watch this!"
Due to street construction in town I have to make a detour across the grounds and parking lot of the old high school. The whole area was converted from pavement and sidewalks into a large flat field. It is used now by youth football for a practice field. My usual routine is to ride up the cut in the curb that used to be the entrance to parking lot, ride across the grass and get back on to the street leading to downtown and work. This morning, in the dark, with mist on my goggles I looked away for just a second and Wham! hit the curb at a great rate of speed and got to do a somersault with my bike on.
I think I landed on my left shoulder and rolled over, finally landing on my side. My feet had kind of twisted out of the toeclips and my bike lay across me. I pushed it off and lay there gasping for air. This is when the old guy came to see if I needed help.
I lay there a few moments just trying to get a breath. In my head I was trying to take a mental inventory of pain and injury. I knew I was a hurting unit but I had no clear idea what was wrong. Finally I sat up. The old guy steadied my bike for me and I stood up. My left arm wasn't working well and pushed kickstand down with my right hand. Then he and I walked over to the street.
"I was trying to hit the old driveway."
"You missed it by a couple of feet."
"I looked up and saw you and Bam!"
Then I had to sit down on the curb for a few minutes to clear my vision and try to catch my breath. Every breath hurt, my shoulder throbbed, my back ached. Movement sent sharp shooting pains through my arm. the kind of pain that takes your breath away. I didn't have any breath to spare.
"You going to be okay?"
"Yeah. I'll get to work and take some ibuprofen."
So I walked my bike across the playing field and onto the street. Trying to support my bike while walking was not fun so I tried riding again. Once I put the chain back on the chainring, life was better. Riding was easier than walking my bike. The bike, an old Schwinn mountain bike, was not damaged. Just mis-aligned the handlebars a bit. That would help explain the red rashes and bruises on my thighs.
I was only 15 minutes late to work. I told my partner "I'm f-d up." Then I took 800 mg of ibuprofen and made the call I should have made while lying on the playing field. Later, on the way to urgent care, Karen properly read me the riot act about not using my cell phone but truthfully I never even thought of it.
So, after seeing the Doc and getting x-rays I am told I have a shoulder separation and a crack in one rib. Some of the other ribs don't feel so great either, but they didn't take pics of them. After pain meds, an arm sling, a work restriction and a visit to the friendly chiropractor, I am home, resting, with ice, in the loving care of my patient and long suffering wife.
Stories like this open the victim (me) up to well meant jibes and friendly ridicule. I know that. It all comes with the territory. But here at Whiskey Jack Flats, we have been reading Eckhart Tolle lately and now I kind of wonder why I had this accident. Of course it was dark out and the mist blurred my vision a bit and I got distracted by the guy on the street and...
In The Power of Now, Tolle addresses our pain body. Without getting into the whole explanation here, I will just say that his opinion is that sometimes we attract accidents because our 'pain body' is hungry for attention, for energy. One of the ways to avoid the pain body or lessen its' negative effects is to be present; to be more conscious and aware. When we are exposed to something negative and we are not guarding ourselves by being present, our pain body will attract that negative energy and Bam! Maybe you hit a curb.
Karen and I have been working hard lately to be better people, to be more aware, more thankful, more present. And our work has been paying off. I have never felt happier or more in love than at this time in my life. But if life is so good, then, why the accident. Did my pain body hit me with a wake-up call and leave me gasping for air?
Even though my life has never been better I still do have things that bother me. We all do. Last night I had a visit from good old bad head for the first time in months. And now I am trying to type with one arm in a sling. Pain body or bad karma or just an old fool on a bike in the dark? Dunno. The result is the same. The lesson, if there is one, is to stay present; be mindful and aware and try to keep the good ju-ju flowing. Life can't help but be better if you do at least that much.
Peace and love to you all. Thanks for all the messages of love and support. I will try to pass that energy on.
Mike
"What is he talking about?"
This morning I took a spectacular header while riding my bike to work. It was the sort of thing that would have been impressive to watch but no one was around and it was dark out. Well okay, there was this old guy who runs with another guy, early in the mornings. We sometimes pass each other on the deserted streets and exchange quick breathless pleasantries as we go our respective ways. If you want to know how I looked in mid-air, flying ass-over-teakettle, ask the old guy. In fact, if you find him, thank him for me. All I know is I experienced a sudden hard jolt and my bike took on a personality.that must be like what bull riders know just before they get stomped into smithereens by a ton and a half of wild rage. My flight might have been one of those things you see on YouTube and laugh at. Even the part where the guys lands all wonky and lies there, twisted and broken. Except I didn't get to say "Hold my beer and watch this!"
Due to street construction in town I have to make a detour across the grounds and parking lot of the old high school. The whole area was converted from pavement and sidewalks into a large flat field. It is used now by youth football for a practice field. My usual routine is to ride up the cut in the curb that used to be the entrance to parking lot, ride across the grass and get back on to the street leading to downtown and work. This morning, in the dark, with mist on my goggles I looked away for just a second and Wham! hit the curb at a great rate of speed and got to do a somersault with my bike on.
I think I landed on my left shoulder and rolled over, finally landing on my side. My feet had kind of twisted out of the toeclips and my bike lay across me. I pushed it off and lay there gasping for air. This is when the old guy came to see if I needed help.
I lay there a few moments just trying to get a breath. In my head I was trying to take a mental inventory of pain and injury. I knew I was a hurting unit but I had no clear idea what was wrong. Finally I sat up. The old guy steadied my bike for me and I stood up. My left arm wasn't working well and pushed kickstand down with my right hand. Then he and I walked over to the street.
"I was trying to hit the old driveway."
"You missed it by a couple of feet."
"I looked up and saw you and Bam!"
Then I had to sit down on the curb for a few minutes to clear my vision and try to catch my breath. Every breath hurt, my shoulder throbbed, my back ached. Movement sent sharp shooting pains through my arm. the kind of pain that takes your breath away. I didn't have any breath to spare.
"You going to be okay?"
"Yeah. I'll get to work and take some ibuprofen."
So I walked my bike across the playing field and onto the street. Trying to support my bike while walking was not fun so I tried riding again. Once I put the chain back on the chainring, life was better. Riding was easier than walking my bike. The bike, an old Schwinn mountain bike, was not damaged. Just mis-aligned the handlebars a bit. That would help explain the red rashes and bruises on my thighs.
I was only 15 minutes late to work. I told my partner "I'm f-d up." Then I took 800 mg of ibuprofen and made the call I should have made while lying on the playing field. Later, on the way to urgent care, Karen properly read me the riot act about not using my cell phone but truthfully I never even thought of it.
So, after seeing the Doc and getting x-rays I am told I have a shoulder separation and a crack in one rib. Some of the other ribs don't feel so great either, but they didn't take pics of them. After pain meds, an arm sling, a work restriction and a visit to the friendly chiropractor, I am home, resting, with ice, in the loving care of my patient and long suffering wife.
Stories like this open the victim (me) up to well meant jibes and friendly ridicule. I know that. It all comes with the territory. But here at Whiskey Jack Flats, we have been reading Eckhart Tolle lately and now I kind of wonder why I had this accident. Of course it was dark out and the mist blurred my vision a bit and I got distracted by the guy on the street and...
In The Power of Now, Tolle addresses our pain body. Without getting into the whole explanation here, I will just say that his opinion is that sometimes we attract accidents because our 'pain body' is hungry for attention, for energy. One of the ways to avoid the pain body or lessen its' negative effects is to be present; to be more conscious and aware. When we are exposed to something negative and we are not guarding ourselves by being present, our pain body will attract that negative energy and Bam! Maybe you hit a curb.
Karen and I have been working hard lately to be better people, to be more aware, more thankful, more present. And our work has been paying off. I have never felt happier or more in love than at this time in my life. But if life is so good, then, why the accident. Did my pain body hit me with a wake-up call and leave me gasping for air?
Even though my life has never been better I still do have things that bother me. We all do. Last night I had a visit from good old bad head for the first time in months. And now I am trying to type with one arm in a sling. Pain body or bad karma or just an old fool on a bike in the dark? Dunno. The result is the same. The lesson, if there is one, is to stay present; be mindful and aware and try to keep the good ju-ju flowing. Life can't help but be better if you do at least that much.
Peace and love to you all. Thanks for all the messages of love and support. I will try to pass that energy on.
Mike
Friday, October 7, 2011
Old Cliches Die Hard
Old habits die hard. There ya have it. My opening line is a cliche. Merriam Webster says a cliche' is a phrase that has become overly familiar or common place kinda like a habit. It just rolls off your tongue without much thought and so it is with a habit.
Habits, whether good or bad, just cruise around in your hippocampus making ruts akin to the Oregon Trail. Once they are there they are there. We get into the groove of our habit and mindlessly go about it's particular task. We get in a rut. We become cliche'. The good news is we can get out of a rut. Brain researchers tell us that we can create new pathways that can bypass those old roads. We just have to make a conscious effort to do it. And there's the rub, "WE HAVE TO BECOME CONSCIOUS"
Personally, I thought I was doing pretty good at being conscious or as we say it being present. Not. At Mayo we worked with some meditation, guided imagery, deep breathing and a professional who teaches a technique to rid the body of tension. In class I discovered that I "wear my shoulders like earrings", I hold my breath a lot and when I walk my upper body is ahead of lower body. In other words I was getting a head of myself. I didn't even know! During meditation my mind was our for a walk without me.I wasn't being present. I was unconscious of my actions and those very actions were causing some undue stress on my body. I had me some habits to rehab.
But there's that cliche' "old habits die hard". In truth habits never actually die they just get replaced by other habits. It's like the Oregon Trail which is still there, still visible though eroded, softened with time. We've learned new ways of travel since then, built new roads. Still the trail is there to remind us where we came from and how far we've gone. We'd never take our new car out on those trails and still we travel them in our minds. What's up with that?
I'm in the process of building some new roads and like any construction project it takes time and effort. I have an ornery crew on this project. They like to do things they way they've always done things. There's a lot of mind to change. Luckily I don't have to engineer this project. Mayo did all that. The map is there the paths are laid out and I just have to follow them and lay in new road an inch at a time.
Peace
Karen
Habits, whether good or bad, just cruise around in your hippocampus making ruts akin to the Oregon Trail. Once they are there they are there. We get into the groove of our habit and mindlessly go about it's particular task. We get in a rut. We become cliche'. The good news is we can get out of a rut. Brain researchers tell us that we can create new pathways that can bypass those old roads. We just have to make a conscious effort to do it. And there's the rub, "WE HAVE TO BECOME CONSCIOUS"
Personally, I thought I was doing pretty good at being conscious or as we say it being present. Not. At Mayo we worked with some meditation, guided imagery, deep breathing and a professional who teaches a technique to rid the body of tension. In class I discovered that I "wear my shoulders like earrings", I hold my breath a lot and when I walk my upper body is ahead of lower body. In other words I was getting a head of myself. I didn't even know! During meditation my mind was our for a walk without me.I wasn't being present. I was unconscious of my actions and those very actions were causing some undue stress on my body. I had me some habits to rehab.
But there's that cliche' "old habits die hard". In truth habits never actually die they just get replaced by other habits. It's like the Oregon Trail which is still there, still visible though eroded, softened with time. We've learned new ways of travel since then, built new roads. Still the trail is there to remind us where we came from and how far we've gone. We'd never take our new car out on those trails and still we travel them in our minds. What's up with that?
I'm in the process of building some new roads and like any construction project it takes time and effort. I have an ornery crew on this project. They like to do things they way they've always done things. There's a lot of mind to change. Luckily I don't have to engineer this project. Mayo did all that. The map is there the paths are laid out and I just have to follow them and lay in new road an inch at a time.
Peace
Karen
Thursday, October 6, 2011
It's a Bird. It's a Plane. It's......
It's a bird or a plane. It's not Super Karen. Super Karen and her cape got left behind in Rochester. I don't know if she's wandering the streets looking for some action or if she is just withering up in a corner of the Generose building with a host of other super persona? All I know is I'm done with her.
Oh, she was great while she lasted. Super Karen could get anything done and then more. She was a fast flying mover and shaker wandering around town using her cape like an apron and picking up projects and strays. No was not in her vocabulary not even when she knew darned well she could not leap that tall building in a single bound. She was more powerful than a speeding locomotive until one day she crashed. Still, in super hero form, she drug herself from the wreckage and limped on hoping to find her strength but it seemed as if someone had slipped her a kryptonite mickey.
Super Karen, as it turns out, wasn't so super. While she looked mild mannered on the outside her inside was a mess. This internal mess was a contributing factor to her fibromyalgia said the doctor. Lose the cape or keep on spiraling into the ground became the choice. Ask for help. Delegate responsibility. Put on the suit of moderation and join the mere mortals on the ground but keep the cape and....
Old habits die hard. True cliche'. I'm glad I left my cape in Rochester. In the past week there have been times where I'd want to take up a crusade but that's not my job anymore. The world is not mine to save. I've been great with giving advice to others about taking care of themselves first and everyone else second. I've used the airplane analogy of putting your oxygen mask on first and then your neighbors a gazillion times. However, I've neglected to hear it myself. I've neglected myself and as a result have not been the best I can be to myself and others. That's all about to change.
So, stay tuned for The New Adventures of Mild-mannered Karen Forbes.
Peace out People
Karen
Oh, she was great while she lasted. Super Karen could get anything done and then more. She was a fast flying mover and shaker wandering around town using her cape like an apron and picking up projects and strays. No was not in her vocabulary not even when she knew darned well she could not leap that tall building in a single bound. She was more powerful than a speeding locomotive until one day she crashed. Still, in super hero form, she drug herself from the wreckage and limped on hoping to find her strength but it seemed as if someone had slipped her a kryptonite mickey.
Super Karen, as it turns out, wasn't so super. While she looked mild mannered on the outside her inside was a mess. This internal mess was a contributing factor to her fibromyalgia said the doctor. Lose the cape or keep on spiraling into the ground became the choice. Ask for help. Delegate responsibility. Put on the suit of moderation and join the mere mortals on the ground but keep the cape and....
Old habits die hard. True cliche'. I'm glad I left my cape in Rochester. In the past week there have been times where I'd want to take up a crusade but that's not my job anymore. The world is not mine to save. I've been great with giving advice to others about taking care of themselves first and everyone else second. I've used the airplane analogy of putting your oxygen mask on first and then your neighbors a gazillion times. However, I've neglected to hear it myself. I've neglected myself and as a result have not been the best I can be to myself and others. That's all about to change.
So, stay tuned for The New Adventures of Mild-mannered Karen Forbes.
Peace out People
Karen
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Happy Anniversary
October 4th and 50 degrees out. Trees are at peak color and today promises to be gorgeous. The skies will match the color of the bluebirds which have been migrating through our yard. Eight years ago I was waiting as fast as I could for the sun to rise and the day to begin so I could take my best friend as my husband.
The day was not unlike today. Clear, blue and warm. Friends and family trickling in. A flurry of activity. Laughter swirling through the house and yard. We sat our guests on hay bales out under the creaking tin roof of a hay shed. Cornstalks, pumpkins and canoe paddles were the alter. Clouds of tulle hung from the beams and held strings of tiny white lights. Green fields ringed with fall colors were the backdrop as Mike and I exchanged our vows. Our simple ceremony was christened with tears of joy as friends united their lives.
We celebrated into the night. A tall tower of logs and wood, later to be named "The Burning Tower of Doom", was lit. We danced and ate and drank into the night until Mike, Al and Steven brought everything to a close and sent people to their cars when they started singing dirty Irish drinking songs.
Our honeymoon began the next day. We rented a log cabin on a private lake in Ely. The days were perfect, like today, blue, clear, warm, full of color. As I think back to that day eight years ago my eyes well up and my heart swells. I am as happy today as I was on that day. Our honeymoon has never ended.
Mike is on his bike heading to work. I'll tackle my first day back to work in 6 weeks. I know we both would rather be back at that cabin but the cabin's been sold and we have this life we've made to attend to. Tonight we will be together to celebrate what we have and what we have worked darned hard to make. Small tokens and cards will be exchanged after a meal we will have cooked together. Small tokens of thanks to one another and in appreciation of another year of caring, love, understanding, patience, laughter and love and we will once again celebrate that day.
Happy Anniversary Sweetheart thank you for being my life.
Love, Karen
The day was not unlike today. Clear, blue and warm. Friends and family trickling in. A flurry of activity. Laughter swirling through the house and yard. We sat our guests on hay bales out under the creaking tin roof of a hay shed. Cornstalks, pumpkins and canoe paddles were the alter. Clouds of tulle hung from the beams and held strings of tiny white lights. Green fields ringed with fall colors were the backdrop as Mike and I exchanged our vows. Our simple ceremony was christened with tears of joy as friends united their lives.
We celebrated into the night. A tall tower of logs and wood, later to be named "The Burning Tower of Doom", was lit. We danced and ate and drank into the night until Mike, Al and Steven brought everything to a close and sent people to their cars when they started singing dirty Irish drinking songs.
Our honeymoon began the next day. We rented a log cabin on a private lake in Ely. The days were perfect, like today, blue, clear, warm, full of color. As I think back to that day eight years ago my eyes well up and my heart swells. I am as happy today as I was on that day. Our honeymoon has never ended.
Mike is on his bike heading to work. I'll tackle my first day back to work in 6 weeks. I know we both would rather be back at that cabin but the cabin's been sold and we have this life we've made to attend to. Tonight we will be together to celebrate what we have and what we have worked darned hard to make. Small tokens and cards will be exchanged after a meal we will have cooked together. Small tokens of thanks to one another and in appreciation of another year of caring, love, understanding, patience, laughter and love and we will once again celebrate that day.
Happy Anniversary Sweetheart thank you for being my life.
Love, Karen
Monday, October 3, 2011
It's All In My Head
I just wasted a lot of time over on Wordpress trying to set up a new blog. I wanted a space of my own to write about fibromyalgia called "It's All in My Head". After trying to get the name I wanted, and didn't, after trying to decide on a layout and a picture and and and...stressing about it I'm back here. And why not? This is where our people are. This is where Mike and I took our journey through cancer. This is where YOU supported us and YOU are part of WE. We did it together and that's how we got through cancer. We invited you into our lives and you came. You stayed through thick and thin. What I have is fibromyalgia. That means WE have fibromyalgia and this is where I belong to talk about it.
Almost everyone I've talked to has someone in their life who has this condition. I've had it since Halloween of 1999. Trick or Treat baby! Back then a significant riding accident injured almost my entire spine and turned on my pain. Over the years other physical and emotional injuries as well as surgeries and stress have aligned to ramp my central nervous system into high alert and fibromyalgia.
As with most "fibro" patients it took a long time to get a diagnosis. My primary doc knew there was something wrong she just didn't know what. After many visits with different providers a local doc was able to say it was fibromyalgia. That was in 2004. It was a huge relief to finally have a name and acknowledgement for my pain. Still, I know that I didn't totally buy into the diagnosis until this past week at Mayo Clinic's Fibromyalgia program. Why? That's a good question. I'm not really sure? Perhaps it was still the underlying or maybe I should say undermining collective conscious belief that fibromyalgia is a garbage can diagnois for "we don't know what is wrong with you." Maybe it was because before January I only had a couple of flares a year and the pain was so minimal in between that I disregarded it. I used to say it was no big deal. I had fibro but only a couple of times a year before that. Or it could be and probably was that I just didn't want to accept it as the chronic condition it was.
In January of this year I began to exercise to get into shape for what was shaping up to be an active summer. In my third week of exercise a flare, which has lasted for 10 months, was triggered. Along with the chronic pain came a host of other symptoms: fatigue, difficulty with sleep, moodiness, anxiety, headaches, stiffness, tingling in my face, legs and hands, heightened sensitivity to noises, bright lights, touch and odors, dizziness and my favorite and most amusing symptom - the loss of my brain or fibro fog. Concentration was difficult. I'd see words I wanted to say skate on by and not be able to retrieve them. I'd forget what I was saying in mid sentence. I couldn't organize a thought if I only had one.
I understood the pain was fibro and went to my primary doc for help. I just wanted something for the pain. Something to knock it down for a few days so I could regroup and then go on. No pain meds were forthcoming. We tried several meds for the fibro - gabapentin, neurontin and finally the newest fibro approved drug Lyrica. The flare continued and in a desperate move I asked to be referred to Mayo.
So, there was a lot of info from the Mayo trip. I came home with hope and a sense of possibility. I'm ready to walk this walk and share my fibromyalgia with you. (oh stop! it's not contagious and you know what I mean) What I'm saying is this will be a lot like the cancer part of this blog - good, bad and ugly because this is part of my/our life and to isolate it off onto another blog is to isolate myself. I can't do that because I need the support I've found here at Whiskey Jack Flats. Don't worry though, the blog won't all be about the fibro! Who wants to hear about that all the time. Mike has access to this blog and lately I've been doing a little channeling of my hero Erma Bombeck which I hope will show up here. We have a life to live for crying out loud.
As for "It's All In My Head", well mostly it is and you can just think on that one for a while. It will become clear later!
Peace Boyz and Gurlz!,
Karen
Almost everyone I've talked to has someone in their life who has this condition. I've had it since Halloween of 1999. Trick or Treat baby! Back then a significant riding accident injured almost my entire spine and turned on my pain. Over the years other physical and emotional injuries as well as surgeries and stress have aligned to ramp my central nervous system into high alert and fibromyalgia.
As with most "fibro" patients it took a long time to get a diagnosis. My primary doc knew there was something wrong she just didn't know what. After many visits with different providers a local doc was able to say it was fibromyalgia. That was in 2004. It was a huge relief to finally have a name and acknowledgement for my pain. Still, I know that I didn't totally buy into the diagnosis until this past week at Mayo Clinic's Fibromyalgia program. Why? That's a good question. I'm not really sure? Perhaps it was still the underlying or maybe I should say undermining collective conscious belief that fibromyalgia is a garbage can diagnois for "we don't know what is wrong with you." Maybe it was because before January I only had a couple of flares a year and the pain was so minimal in between that I disregarded it. I used to say it was no big deal. I had fibro but only a couple of times a year before that. Or it could be and probably was that I just didn't want to accept it as the chronic condition it was.
In January of this year I began to exercise to get into shape for what was shaping up to be an active summer. In my third week of exercise a flare, which has lasted for 10 months, was triggered. Along with the chronic pain came a host of other symptoms: fatigue, difficulty with sleep, moodiness, anxiety, headaches, stiffness, tingling in my face, legs and hands, heightened sensitivity to noises, bright lights, touch and odors, dizziness and my favorite and most amusing symptom - the loss of my brain or fibro fog. Concentration was difficult. I'd see words I wanted to say skate on by and not be able to retrieve them. I'd forget what I was saying in mid sentence. I couldn't organize a thought if I only had one.
I understood the pain was fibro and went to my primary doc for help. I just wanted something for the pain. Something to knock it down for a few days so I could regroup and then go on. No pain meds were forthcoming. We tried several meds for the fibro - gabapentin, neurontin and finally the newest fibro approved drug Lyrica. The flare continued and in a desperate move I asked to be referred to Mayo.
So, there was a lot of info from the Mayo trip. I came home with hope and a sense of possibility. I'm ready to walk this walk and share my fibromyalgia with you. (oh stop! it's not contagious and you know what I mean) What I'm saying is this will be a lot like the cancer part of this blog - good, bad and ugly because this is part of my/our life and to isolate it off onto another blog is to isolate myself. I can't do that because I need the support I've found here at Whiskey Jack Flats. Don't worry though, the blog won't all be about the fibro! Who wants to hear about that all the time. Mike has access to this blog and lately I've been doing a little channeling of my hero Erma Bombeck which I hope will show up here. We have a life to live for crying out loud.As for "It's All In My Head", well mostly it is and you can just think on that one for a while. It will become clear later!
Peace Boyz and Gurlz!,
Karen
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