Pain changes people

In dealing with my fibromyalgia flares, I find dealing with the accompanying mental pain is just as bad as dealing with unrelenting physical pain. It is just as difficult to bear.

Usually a mild mannered person, after coping all day with searing pain in my muscles, topped off with an inability to sleep soundly, I can fly off the handle occasionally.

Yesterday for example, I managed to catch up on my dishes, which turned out to be a three part marathon. Usually Chris puts them away but yesterday it didn't happen.

My fingers were paining me, my back ached and my legs didn't feel like they could hold me up. Unfortunately, a feeling of resentment overtook me, and I yelled at Chris for not doing his part.

I love being a wife and homemaker, but when everything is hurting at once, and not sleeping well because of the pain, resentment rose up in me. 

Resentment that I wasn't getting any help coupled with no pain relief and tiredness made me verbally buck and shy like a wild stallion. Along with resentment of my lack of help came resentment that my body has let me down.

Once resentment kicks in, it opens the door to self-pity and depression. I don't like yelling at Chris, particularly as he is usually not only helpful but emotionally nurturing and supportive.

I have found that at times like this, when pain causes me to blow my stack, that like an overtired toddler, I need to rest. So I put myself to bed for a nana nap.

Fibromyalgia pain never lets up, even in our sleep. It pursues us in our rest and deprives us of even the enjoyment of a brief period of respite in sleep. We toss and turn, trying to get comfortable- and that is even during the brief time our dry aching eyes are actually closed. It is not restorative at all.

I have had to learn to stop feeling false guilt for reacting to my pain when the levels are high enough to launch a rocket. That's how I feel during a flare. But I have got to remember that I didn't ask for this and am not responsible for succumbing to this painful syndrome.

I must remember that fibromyalgia pain-or indeed any pain, makes the vicissitudes of life that much harder to bear. Everything is exaggerated both physically and mentally, and the only thing I can do is accept that this is not my usual self, for pain changes people.

                                                                                                                                                                                                        

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          

Other species family

Chris and I love animals and if we had our way, our home would be full of dogs and cats. Unfortunately for us, our landlord doesn't want pets in his property and we almost missed out on this lovely house because we refused to give our rescue cat, Xena up and rehouse her.

We really fell in love with our house here, but the thought of losing Xena was too much to bear, and when I took the phone call from the real estate agent telling us they didn't want a cat, and would lease the house to us if we rehoused her, I embarrassingly started to cry. We told them we couldn't do that.

Anyone with a chronic illness will tell you that animals are good therapy and can help reduce pain and anxiety. They are very intuitive and seem to know when you just need a paw to hold or a head to pat or stroke. Xena will actually come up and rub herself on me when she knows I am in pain. Which, with fibromyalgia, is a lot of times..

It was embarrassing when I took that call in the freezer section of Aldi. But the property manager who was putting us forward as prospective tenants was very understanding. Turns out, she was a cat owner as well... 

We actually gave up our house which we really really wanted, for Xena. But in the end, the owners agreed to our renting the house with a cat. We were overjoyed.

To give up our little cat would be something we couldn't do to her. She was as I said, a rescue cat who had been caught as a feral and impounded and who had suffered at the hands of people who obviously didn't like cats.

It took us quite a few months to assure her that she was safe with us and it was nearly a year before she stopped running to hide if we walked too fast near her. We suspect she was kicked with workboots by some males, because she had a fear of feet and males.

But love won out, and 7 years later, she is the most loving little cat who loves nothing better than to sleep between her mum and dad. She trusts us and is part of our family now.

I know I speak for millions of cat and dog owners who love their furbabies to bits. There's no need to make a defence that these little creatures transcend the pets only genre and become other species family.

When I am resting, I know that as soon as Xena realises I am either in bed or asleep on the couch, that she will be jumping up carefully (so as not to disturb me), and snuggling up to me as I sleep. 

Chris and I call our bed the family bed because the whole family sleep in it. Pets are our other species family, and we wouldn't have it any other way.

Spring has sprung

I let Xena out this morning and was greeted by a lovely warm day with cherry blossoms on the tree in our neighbour's back yard.

Xena ran to the plastic box of rainwater we leave for the birds to drink and bathe in. She loves fresh rainwater.

The birds started calling immediately they saw me, expecting something to eat. They usually gather en masse and call together, which frightens our timid cat away.

So as soon as she finished drinking, she ran off to the side of the house where she could get some sun in peace.

We have some lovely sunny days forecast for this week and it does the soul good. As does seeing all the trees in bud, blooming white or pink blossoms all along the 20 km drive to the closest town.

I love fresh air, and it has been a joy to throw our windows open and let the breeze and sunshine in. With being home 90% of the week, I can think of no nicer place to be than here when spring has sprung.

Help is on the way!

So last week I got a phone call from the Aged care people to inform me that they can send a woman to clean for me. She will be wearing a mask and social distancing they tell me...

She is coming today early in the morning, so I have gotten up, dressed and breakfasted and stripped off our bed for changing. My fibromyalgia is flaring, but I have had to ignore my sore muscles and look to the next few hours when the cleaning lady is here.

You can't imagine the relief I feel as we can't manage heavy cleaning anymore. Vaccuuming, mopping and bath/shower cleaning knock us both out. As I have said to the Aged care people, I can do things at waist level like cooking and washing dishes. 

I no longer use the clothesline to dry my washing which is a shame because there's nothing quite like fresh laundry that's been dried by the sun. However, since my polymyalgia rheumatica bouts, I have trouble raising my arms: it even hurts to brush my hair. Which is why I now wear it short. It's manageable.

Today is the day I refill our medicine containers and that means that later on I will have to get to the chemist to get prescriptions refilled. I also need to buy electrodes for the glucose monitoring machines.

Our sugars are still too high, even though Chris is now on 20 units of insulin twice a day plus his oral medications. I have been put on Januvia 50mg a morning with 2 diamicron tablets. We are not winning this battle against diabetes 2.

So I am looking up dishes to make that are low GI and trying to learn about reducing blood sugar. And although it seems like I am taking steps backward, at least I am winning in the cleaning stakes because mercifully, thanks to Centrelink, help is on the way!

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!