Choppy waters ahead

Well our day is still in full swing. I have dishes to do and clean washing to fold up and put away. We went to the chemist and picked up prescriptions yesterday. Apparently there's a world wide shortage of one of my anti-depressants, Dothep 25 and I am on my last script. I have been waiting for 2 months for some.  The Dothep anti-depressants help me with my fibromyalgia pain. I hate to be without them.

The practice of keeping extra meds in case of emergency has paid off for me. But I will be out soon. That's a worry as the sea gets very choppy when I mess with my anti-depressants. I think they are in a container somewhere on their trip to Australia.. Apart from those few tasks, and cooking,  that will be all I can manage today. 

I am praying that I get those anti-depressants before I run out or there will be very choppy waters ahead.

Coming to terms with it

Fibromyalgia is flaring and my spoons are scarce today, so it's just basic home duties for me.  Dishes, washing and meals.

If I can get down the steps today, I want to sit in the garden swing. I need the fresh air and relaxation that watching the birds brings. They are getting quite cheeky and tame now. I only have to open the door and they converge on the back porch/decking chirping at me to get them something to eat. 

They stand there practically with their hands on their hips, feet tapping: why are we waiting? Quite funny. I know they case the house out- I see their shadows on the roof and carport. I will miss this place. Chris wants to move back into "civilisation" when we sell the fiver. With Covid, we haven't had any chance to get people here to see it. 

As with coming to terms with the knowledge that my fibromyalgia and other issues will not get better, so I am trying to come to terms with missing out on country life.

Searching for some spoons

                                          

So Chris wasn't feeling well, so we didn't get out yesterday. I ordered $30 worth of groceries through Woolworths online. We have to pick them up at 1pm. It's so handy to shop like that. After that I need to get some prescriptions made up and go to the Post Office.

I managed to do all those dishes yesterday, with just last night's pots and pans to wash today. Tonight I will shower. If I do it this morning, I will run out of spoons and won't make it for the errands later.

It's hard searching for spoons and finding none, knowing that you have to do certain errands like shopping and getting medicines. And the tricky thing is when you find some, they disappear before you can put them to good use, and you find you need to take a nana nap just to accomplish it.

I know with talking to other Fibromites that I am not alone, as having no spoons seems to be a typical symptom of fibromyalgia. So for the next few hours before I pick up the groceries, you know where I'll be: searching for some spoons.

Keeping my wheels turning!

 

Good morning. It's a new week! We have to go out today, just some grocery shopping and a trip to the post office. That will be before I tackle last night's dishes. 

I was so tired last night that I left them, hoping to wake up with some spoons (energy). That didn't happen so the grocery shop takes priority today. 

Some lamb chops are defrosting for dinner tonight. I will do mashed potato, vegetables and gravy with them. A sandwich will suffice for lunch. 

I use the frozen mashed potato, steam packs of vegetables and instant Gravox gravy. I am fortunate in that Chris loves meat of some sort with two veg and if one of them's mashed potato, he's a happy man.

Being able to go without peeling potatoes and shelling peas is a godsend for me. The arthritis in my hands, the torn knee caps and spinal problems make standing to cook to prepare a nightmare. I am too short to sit on a chair as I can't see over the benchtops properly. 

When in a fibromyalgia flare like today, it is just the icing on the cake. It literally tips me over. The pain is incredible and never lets up. I do have a high pain threshold but when the pain is 24/7, it wears you down.

I think I will make myself a cup of tea and take some painkillers. That's the only way I will be able to function today. They can join my other ten tablets taken this morning. I swear I rattle when I walk.  It is what it is!  But hey, whatever keep my wheels turning!

It changes you, man!

So I have been feeling a little on edge lately. My fibromyalgia flare has returned with a vengeance. I haven't been sleeping well.

With an ongoing feeling of malaise, body aches and a constant headache, I find I cannot abide much noise. The TV up too loud leaves me clenching my jaw. Even the constant click of my rusty torn kneecaps as I get up and walk somewhere drives me insane. 

I want to lock myself away in a silent world. Not forever, just for a while until the flare passes. If ever. You get to feel like this is how the rest of your life is going to be and it aint pretty.

For the moment, I am being selective about what I listen to... too many decibels are actually painful to me at this time of the Mother of all Flares. Likewise, too much light hurts my eyes and makes my headache worse. 

It's something you wouldn't expect to have happen unless you have fibromyalgia. Nausea, light, cold, heat, pressure on skin, itching all over, hives, dry eyes, crusty nose and dry lips all vie with the noise to  reach a climax of sensory overdrive that gets unbearable. 

So, the answer to the picture here is yes, I have and I would make that annoying toy take its' last squeak. It is something I can control. And goodness knows, there's not much a Fibromite can control these days of flares.

I will hunt and pursue the droning fridge, the dripping tap, the ticking clock, the loud TV and even the squeaking toy on days of Flaring. They will cease and desist. Even if I have to shoot them sky high. Because some days, squeaks and drips are intolerable. I hunt them to survive, and I feel ruthless, for it changes you, man! 

Take me as I am

Over the course of a 57 year old friendship, I have always made sure my house was clean and presentable when Ann came.  Not that she was judging me at all- it was just how I rolled.

Once fibromyalgia came to overshadow me and steal my spoons over the last 22 years, she and I made a pact that we would visit each other no matter what state our home was in. Or else it would never happen.

As we grew older, we realised that things like neat houses sometimes were very scarce, and we agreed that visiting each other was too important to us than worrying about our homes' presentation. So we chose to each be hospitable and not worry about the extraneous.

Since developing fibromyalgia, I have had to rethink my own standards of cleanliness. My standards now are in order of priority and are non negotiable:

A clean body. 

Clean bed.

Clean clothes.

Clean dishes and kitchen.

Clean toilet and bathroom.

With no spoons during most days of a flare, it has been imperative that I reassess what's truly important in my life. God, family and friends were an easy choice. But not just any family and friends, I prefer kind,  like-minded people like Ann, who just takes me as I am.

My day is all stitched up

Today is a bad fibromyalgia day. I am aching so badly I want to cry. But I don't think I even have the energy to do that! 

I meant to take up some cricket pants yesterday for my daughter in law. She needs them for next week's first match of the year. So that is on my priority list today. I finally found my sewing machine again. I haven't used it since we moved in here which is 2 years at Christmas. 

I have dishes to do as well as cooking. I had run out of bread and had to ring DIL who lives locally. She picked up a loaf for me at the local store as Chris was feeling too giddy with vertigo to drive today.  I can't because of my torn meniscuses. Woolworths ran out of bread at their online shopping food distribution centre, and although they refunded me, I needed the bread. 

Everybody is buying their food online and Covid seems to be the reason. Their shelves are getting low and every week there's something I am unable to order. I know I can bake a loaf  but I don't have the energy right now.

Would you believe me if I tell you I have psyche myself up to take those cricket pants up?- and that may use all my spoons for today! I guess you could say my day is all stitched up! 

  

Bathing in it

 

So, I have really had a hard week of it. I am physically and emotionally spent and it's all about the ravages of Covid in my family.

Firstly, we have had pleas of vaccinated family and friends to take the Covid vax ourselves. This is not going to happen unless our backs are up against the wall. We have spent a considerable amount of time defending our reasonings and copping flack for our choice.

The government is getting more strident in its call to be fully vaxxed and more and more punitive measures in restrictions are coming into play. So much for vaccination not being mandatory: it is really.

My adult children have decided to get vaxxed against my advice and  so has my teenaged grandson. It is their and his parents call I guess.

Then yesterday my grandson got his second Moderna shot and ended up in ER with heart palpitations and fast heartbeat. He is now home, but they said it was a reaction to the shot. He's doing better today.

Furthermore, his paternal grandmother in her 70's developed a deep vein thrombosis two weeks after her  Astra Zeneca jab. But the hospital denies it was the vax. Of course.

My son has been double vaxxed and he and his partner have tested positive for Covid. The only non Covid related whammy for me this week was my other son succumbing to his back injury and being too afraid to go to hospital because of the chance of getting Covid as well. He hasn't been vaxxed.

Chris and I both have existing health issues that need a specialist's input before we are to consider it. So says our doctor. Otherwise we could get an exemption, but would still be limited in our freedoms and seen by the general public as a threat.

All this has ended up with a major fibromyalgia flare which is exacerbated by arguing our case with newly vaxxed family preaching vaccination benefits at us with evangelical zeal. It's all too much.

So today I am not answering phone calls but am going to try to rest as much as I can which should be easy with the measly amount of spoons at my disposal today. 

I want to not think of Covid and vaccinations at all, but I want to take a Tramadol for my considerable body pains and maybe go back to bed.

But first of all, I am going to boil the kettle and make a really large cup of tea. This should help the Tramadol work faster. Tea always is welcome for me and during a fibro flare, it is invaluable as a comfort drink and pick me up.

These days, the only problem with that is that I can't find a big enough cup to satisfy my thirst and tea cravings. To be honest, at the moment, I feel that I not only need to drink tea with gay abandon, but would love to be bathing in it.

They have me well trained

So yesterday was a lovely day. I got up and was making breakfast when I heard the familiar song of the kingfisher calling me. He was sitting on the back porch and was waiting for me to feed him. They have me well trained.

So I grabbed a piece of bread and quietly opened the glass sliding door and threw some pieces towards him. He swooped on it before it had hardly hit the ground, and flew off.

Soon some magpies came a callin for a feed and I grabbed my phone and took a video of them to show you. The mother magpie was joined by her baby and later on the father came with another baby and Mother started feeding him as well.

I know I have told you before how much I love this place, and it's days like this that make me happy. We have just signed another 12 month lease to rent this home and I couldn't be happier.

There's nowhere nicer to recover from a fibromyalgia flare than here. The sun comes around to the back of the house and hits the couch where I like to lay. With just the wire door closed, the sounds of the birds and the stream running in the background, all bathed in warm sunlight, creates the same feeling as lying in the sun at the beach. In fact, Chris and I call it "the beach"

Usually we have a wide variety of rosella, parrots, galahs and corellas come into the yard for the parrot food we put out in the bird feeder for them. But it's been out of stock at the moment because of Covid shortages, so we haven't seem a lot of them recently.

Nothing goes to waste in our house. It all goes out to feed the birds. And they are very grateful. They sit and call for me to feed them and then after they have their beaks full, some of them linger, do a little dance in a circle and almost curtsy to me. 

So I think they are grateful that we are attentive to them and feed them on cue. I love them- and one thing I know for sure is that they have me well trained. 

I need him awake and aware

I was a bath a day girl all my life. It just was so nice to soak and think of pleasant things as the warm water soaked away the aches and pains of the day. This was great until my knees packed up and I couldn't get out of the bath.

So obviously the next thing to do was to become a shower girl, and that worked for a while until fibromyalgia took over my life and sucked my spoons dry. I simply had no energy after a shower but that wasn't the worst of it.

No, the worst of taking a shower for me has now included panic attacks whilst in the cubicle. I am so unsure of my knees being able to hold me up that I hyperventilate. Not good when you have limited oxygen in the first place thanks to a hole in the heart and asthma.

I have tried all the hacks for taking a shower safely and peacefully: I have a shower seat, I turn the exhaust fan on so that the steam isn't too bad, I do not have the water too hot. But it doesn't really help much. 

Once the adrenaline takes over and my breath is cut short, the angina kicks in and my heart pounds like a sledge hammer. So I try to not have water running over my face as this sets the panic mode off.

I have managed to shampoo my hair with my back and face away from the stream of water and I have a very quick wash routine so to ensure my ordeal has been successful as well as quick.

In the old days, Chris used to help me shower, but alas, with his heart failure and chronic fatigue, he has enough trouble showering himself and I don't want him exerting himself on my account.

I have got a shower down to a reasonable time and I can be in and out in 10 minutes- out as in dry, powdered and in my PJ's. All I have to do is dry and brush my hair.

Because my spoons fail me really quickly, I brush my teeth before the shower and have my ablutions at night. I can just stagger to bed if need be. And sometimes it is needed- a shower in the daytime can knock the wind out of my sails for the entire day at times.

I admit it galls me that all my little pleasures like bathing and showering make me feel like I have run a a marathon, but it is what it is. What was a routine like breathing every day is now planned with precision around Chris's sleeping pattern. I need him awake and aware in case I fall.