Basking in a new world

Over the years, I have spent many a time in a hospital bed.  For weeks at a time, I would lie in traction with Scheurmann's Disease, with hardly a visitor to see me.

I recall every time my mother came in to see me, she would ask if my (then) husband had been in. The answer was no. In fact, he would drop me off at the hospital entrance and then take off speedily. I would only see him again when I got home.

It got so bad that I would never let him know that I was trying to pass a kidney stone or needed another bout of traction until the moment I had to be admitted for treatment. Then all hell would break loose. It was just a sad state of life wherein I wasn't noticed or wanted until a meal had to be cooked or a shirt ironed.

Of course, I would lay internalising why he wouldn't visit me, and the end result was captured in one solitary, heart breaking and mind numbing word: rejection.

In between hospital stays, I limped along life, serving my husband and family, yet feeling terribly alone and miserable.

In the course of time I left my abusive husband and married Chris 4 years after leaving. All came crashing around my ears when I got fibromyalgia. 

I came home from seeing my rheumatologist for my wide range chronic pain and fatigue, and along with a negative result for lupus, came the diagnosis of fibromyalgia.  The trip home seemed unbearably long as I rehearsed in my mind the scene of rejection again awaiting me with this latest news.

You can imagine my amazement when Chris made me a cup of tea as he listened to the diagnosis. He was the epitome of compassion and love. When he handed me my cup, he was astonished to see me burst into tears: not tears of pain like before, but tears of love, happiness and relief!

Holding me against himself, he said he was so relieved I didn't have lupus, and vowed to help me in any way he could with this new thing called fibromyalgia. 

He was true to his word and together we learned about this new enemy that threatened to destroy my happiness. We vowed to never give it the power over us to come between us.

Twenty two years later, we speak in terms of spoons and nana naps and Lists. Pacing and paracetamol and heat pads are our love language.  

As for the young woman watching out for her husband from behind the curtain: she has gone now, to be replaced by an older happier woman basking in a new world of love and that vital word for all fibromites: validation. 

Fresh out!

So with Victoria locked down due to the Corona Virus, shopping online has been the norm for most people who usually shop in person.

Due to fibromyalgia and trying to avoid getting the virus, shopping online for my groceries has been the way I choose to shop. Until today.

Doing my list, I was getting frustrated at the amount of things I need being temporarily out of stock, so in the end Chris and I decided to go to our nearest Aldi. 

Disinfecting our hands and trolley and wearing masks, we skirted the aisles as quickly as we could. Having already made a list for Woolworths online, I knew what was needed and we were able to fly around there in about half an hour.

As soon as we got to the car and loaded the groceries into the boot, we got in, took our masks off and sanitised our hands.

Aldi does not offer home delivery, but even so, it is my preferred choice because I get more value for money. However, until Rona is over, I will still do a shopping list online and see just what I can order.

Most products in the store are available, but I still prefer to shop online. By doing the list before shopping day, I can see if it's possible to buy our food that way. Most likely with the current trend, most of what I need is fresh out! 

In the end, we win!

I have been talking to some women who also suffer from fibromyalgia and they have agreed that we sometimes have to set ourselves up to hurt.

If there's somewhere we have to go to and we can't reschedule it, we all have sometimes gone knowing that tomorrow will be horrendous painwise.

The once in a blue moon chance to have beloved grandchildren stay over comes and we often willingly plan to have them, in spite of knowing the consequences for tomorrow. and the next day. and maybe even the next.

Life is unpredictable, and we ill women know that sometimes pushing ourselves to accomplish something vital to our mental happiness, is going to be worth the physical pain it will unleash.

We must live our life even if that means planning to accept the pain. 

In fact, we would do well to prepare for it by planning to cook easy meals for the next couple of days and by postponing as much of our daily housework as we cab for the time being. 

We should make sure we have heating pads, electric blankets, comforting drinks and heaps of paracetamol on hand as well. Maybe some comfort foods like chocolate on hand would be nice. 

When we face the fact that we are most likely going to hurt tomorrow anyway, we might as well bite the bullet and plunge into life head first. We will have happy memories and/or a sense of satisfaction to cuddle up with the next day or two!

We may be setting ourselves up to hurt, but in the end, we win! 

The last stitch

So I decided to do some knitting recently. As a knitter all my life, I have a considerable stash of yarn and knitting needles. 

Vying for my attention are a large assortment of crochet hooks, needles, cottons of a myriad of colours, embroidery cottons and buttons. 

Dragging my knitting bag out of storage, it was like a greeting of old friends. I have been knitting since the age of 6 when my grandmother taught me both to knit and crochet.

We have 15 grandchildren and 2 great-granddaughters and I made my customary jacket, booties and bonnet set in blackberry stitch for all of them- except the little great-granddaughter. Goodness knows, I tried to make her a mint green shawl that her mother had requested, but halfway through, it got too heavy and I had to abandon it.

I refused to be beaten and decided to do it in squares, but alas, my deformed arthritic fingers could not manage to crochet. We moved out of the RV and with plenty of time at home, I decided to give knitting a go again.

As I cast on for a little jacket, I suddenly was overcome with tearing pain and searing muscles, and my fibromyalgia screamed, "Enough! How dare you think you can enjoy yourself by being creative!?"  Tearfully, I put the wool and needles down, went to the kitchen and took some paracetamol.

I rummaged through my knitting bag, the memories overwheming me. Leftover wools from all the previous baby clothes I had ever made, a remnant of the shawl I commenced but couldn't finish and buttons- every colour and all the same little pearlised look. 

A haunting memory of the endless baby jackets over the last 54 years of expecting children then grandchildren assaulted my brain, leaving me with a certain sadness for happier years and then years gone by so quickly.

Fibromyalgia and chronic pain have taken away so much from me, and it was hard to put that bag away again. But I will keep it to remind me of happier times when my muscles didn't hurt just keeping my arms up to knit or my neck didn't feel like it was breaking as my arms moved in quick rhythm to the casting on. 

I know this probably isn't blogging material, but I think we Sacrificial Home Keepers need encouragement. So, enjoy what you can still do, because with fibromyalgia and other chronic illness, we never know when it will be the last button we sew, letter we will handwrite,  or like me, what will finally be the last stitch.

With tea, morphing I am

So just as I thought my domestic problems were over, I was informed that my home help will not be coming until the current Covid 19 restrictions are lifted. 

I am now without any help in the home and it has deflated my spirits. It's understandable with Victoria being in Stage 4 lockdown that it would happen. I get that. But it's just one more thing to add to the drama of Covid 19.

In order to keep our home in some semblance of order, I am going to use Sylvia's Lists and FlyLady

My fibromyalgia flare has gone a bit and I have a few spoons, but I still need help with cleaning the bathroom and doing my floors. It is not to be.

With staying at home restrictions, I am seeing the need for help materialise on a daily basis, and there's nothing I can do about it. Certainly getting Covid 19  because my house needs a clean is just not worth the risk.

So I sit ruminating and quietly sipping my tea and morphing into a Baby Yoda. Or something. Yes, with tea, morphing I am...

And Baby makes three!

 

For the first time in ages, I have a few spoons and I have been having a few days of respite from my fibromyalgia flare.

It is forecast to rain over the next few days, and the weather is cold, so I probably will find this respite all too brief. But, we live in hope.

I have been taking stock of our pantry and fridge because many abattoir workers have been taken ill with the virus and only one abattoir in Victoria remains empty. Which means that there will soon be a shortage of meat and in particular, mince.

Also here the Covid cases are mounting fast and we have been given stay at home orders. So I will be doing my grocery shopping online. I want to make sure I rotate the food we have and don't over buy on things. So that is my plan for today.

I have some bread dough proofing and I will bake that for tonight. I will be serving crumbed fish, mash and salad with it for dinner.

My washing and dishes are up to date and that makes me happy. In fact, I am very happy up here despite the quarantine.

I love our home here in the country and I feel very happy and grateful to God for giving us this home. If one has to be under lockdown, I can't think of a nicer place to do it.

Xena is happy here as well. It's been cold lately but we have turned the heater off as the sun comes in the back sliding door and warms the lounge room nicely.

Obviously not enough for Xena who spotted Chris's new Oodie on the couch, and so decided to make a little nest in it for herself. 

I have a pink one, Chris has a navy one. Best money I ever spent. We love them and it looks like with Xena, that Baby makes three! 

Kiss the cook!

So my fibromyalgia flare is abating, and I have a few spoons today. So I am planning to do some cooking this afternoon.

I am planning to bake some bread, some sugarless cookies for Chris and a vegetable intensive stew for dinner tonight.

With chronic illness, I have seen firsthand how cooking from scratch and making nutritious meals extends our lives. 

My mother was a good cook. When her brother who lived with her, had a stroke, he lived far longer than what the doctor guessed and it was due a lot to her plain but wholesome meals.

My step-father had emphysema and diabetes, and Mum always had good meals on the table for him. The day before he died, he told me that he didn't think he would live to 75. I replied that it's because of Mum's good home cooking! He agreed and said he didn't doubt that it was! 

So with our various chronic health issues, I always try to do the same and I also make sure we eat at least a couple of pieces of fruit. 

Besides, with lockdown on and nothing much to do, it's a good thing to have something nice in the oven and to look forward to your meals.

We only get one life and what we eat does influence our longevity! So I will always make a solid wholesome meal no matter how I feel. 

So far I don't have many complaints about my meals and I don't have to remind Chris to kiss the cook! 

Rona has found us!

We live in a little town in country Victoria Australia. We are in the perfect spot to shelter from Covid 19 or Rona as we call it.

We have under 500 people in total, a pub, a small police station, a small post office and a country shop. And a couple of quaint old churches.

Our town is so tiny that we don't have the postman call on us: we have PO boxes. So very little chance of Rona coming up here.

So you can imagine our shock and horror when we have found out that Rona is rearing her ugly head in our little shire! It's the one downfall of this pretty little town.

She is so pretty that people come here for a Sunday drive, and yes- even those who have tested positive for Rona! And they bring it from the large towns to us.

So bad is the new infection rate in Melbourne that it has been put under stage 4 lockdown. We are following with stage 3 on Wednesday, and mandatory wearing of masks starting midnight tonight for us regional Victorians. 

We are more than over this but it is what it is. Chris and I are going to stay home, except for chemist and doctor if face to face contact is necessary. Although we have no children, we will be living along these lines. 

It's sad that it's come to this for Victoria, but it's necessary. We are the lucky ones living up here, but even so, Rona has found us! 

Another day at the beach!

So today I have been feeling so much pain with my fibromyalgia that I could cry. I am not a sookie-la-la type of person, but a body can only take so much.

I haven't achieved much indoors, in fact I have just done meals, checked our finances, fed Xena and done one load of washing.

My muscles feel like they are tearing-literally pulling and twanging when I stretch my arms certain ways. I am taking paracetamol every 4 hours, using the slow release ones for night time. My doctor doesn't want me on anything else...

I did wash and hang out my Oodie  and the weather was beautiful. This morning was so cold at only 2 degrees C. The water in the birdbath was frozen solid.  I am pleased to say that the Oodie is great these mornings- so great that I bought one for Chris as well.

We are in the throes of selling our fifth wheeler and tow vehicle. It needs to be cleaned inside as I have never been back inside it since coming here at Christmas. 

We are getting a lady to clean it for us, and we are going to get the GMC Sierra detailed. As the pain in my knee is now bearable, I refuse to go up and down those stairs one more time. I don't want to risk upsetting the meniscus tear again.

The sun is shining through the back sliding door. I am going to "the beach" again when I finish talking to you. This is the view I have and coupled with hearing the running stream you can see just beyond the fence, it is exactly like laying on the warm sand listening to the birds and waves...

The last one didn't make it home!

So this morning I am in my study checking my emails when I hear Chris talking in the nearby kitchen.

"So which of you is gonna be brave this morning?" he asks his upheld fingers as he searches for a digit that hasn't recently been jabbed for glucose testing..

They are all sore and he is running out of fingers... "Come on, Chaps! I want a volunteer!.... right then, You- step forward!"

I am giggling to myself because all my fingers are sore as well... but I stopped giggling when I heard him call out  "12.9!" -that's a high number for a fasting test.

Going to the kitchen to write it down in our diabetes diary, I asked Chris to retest it... sometimes the monitor needs recalibrating. 

I recalibrated it as Chris again studied his fingers. "I want another volunteer!.." I felt bad when the   result was still 12.9! All for nothing too with no need for the last volunteer  who didn't make it home.