How do you recover? I never seem to ask myself this question. I know I should plan for pain. I know when I’m going to be in more pain than normal based on my upcoming activities. But for the most part I have an attitude of “I am going to enjoy myself and deal with the consequences after...” It may not be the smartest approach, but I tell my husband all the time… if I stop doing things because of my pain, I’ll never do anything! Pace yourself… we hear this all the time. Stay away from stress… another major tip we hear… but, honestly, pacing myself stress me out!
In the last few months I have created my own awesomely good days… I have sewed with friends, went on vacation with my mom and daughter, surprised my dad with a party for his 80th birthday and watched my daughter prepare for her prom. After each big event it takes me weeks to recover. I do my best to pace myself and stay away from stress, but as you know… life happens.
Recovering from any activity that takes energy has to be balanced by down time. Throughout all those great events, I have endured the longest flare I’ve had in years. I have no idea what is going on, but for one reason or another my body decided it didn’t want to manage the pain efficiently. It just wanted to be in pain … every… single… day. If it’s not the pain from Fibromyalgia, it’s the pain from IBS. Thankfully, my depression has been somewhat under control.
If you ask yourself, is it worth it? As I know many of us do… on a regular basis… especially when in the midst of an ongoing flare. When it’s all said and done, the answer has to be a resounding “YES!”. There are nights when the pain from my day’s activity is so great, laying in bed is painful. My legs are throbbing from the inside out and my neck and shoulders hurt so bad even my skin hurts. I have taken more pain meds in the last few months than I have in years. It’s been the only way I am able to sleep… and let’s be honest, in the middle of a flare, who really gets good sleep? I generally wake up around 2 or 3 and end up reading until I can fall asleep again… and then wake up a few hours later. This does not make for good sleep.
I work full-time and I thank God every day that I am able to work from home. But… working from home means it’s really hard to call in sick. I mean you have to be pretty bad off to call in sick. At least I do. I feel bad if I have to stop working early because I am in too much pain. There have been many days where I’ve felt like I could have done a better job or worked a little harder, but due to this ongoing flare, work has been tough. On the plus side, since I have such a hard time sleeping, there have been more than a few days where I’ve started working between 4:30 and 5. Not only am I thankful that I am able to work from home, the folks I work with are extremely supportive and understanding. I couldn’t ask for a better working situation. I can’t even begin to imagine what it would be like if I wasn’t blessed with the work situation I am in.
In preparing for my daughter’s prom night, I had to leave abruptly from her make up appointment because I all of a sudden felt really sick and could not endure standing (or sitting) any longer. My husband picked me up, and as he drove me home I felt like a loser mom for missing out on even one part of this big day. I went home and laid down for 45 minutes so I could recover. There was literally NO WAY I was going to miss seeing her all dressed up with her date and friends. I was not going to miss the opportunity to take pictures at the park. I knew when I got home I was going to collapse… and I did. But it was worth it. I also realized that missing out on a small part of the day so I could enjoy the main event was something that I needed to do. It was a blessing that my cousin was at the appointment so I could leave. Recovery…
We surprised my dad for his 80th birthday 10 days ago. All the preparation and work towards the event was so worth it when he walked in the room and I saw his expression. At the end of the night when I got home, I literally crawled up my stairs to my room, took a bunch of pain meds and went to sleep. The next day was my daughter’s 17th birthday and I had family visiting from out-of-town… we all got together for a big breakfast at my folks house. Although I could barely walk, the pain was not going to win. We ended up creating more memories of fun and laughter as we ate great food and visited with each other. That day ended with a trip over the hill to Santa Cruz with my daughter and her friend for dinner to celebrate her birthday and watch the sun set. A perfect week-end.
I am determined to enjoy my life. How do I deal with the non-stop pain? How do I recover? I think about how blessed I am. I think about how much joy is in my life. I think about the look on my dad’s face when he walked into that room full of people who have loved him for decades. I think about how much laughter there was on vacation with my mom and daughter. I think about how damn beautiful my daughter looked on her prom night. What could stop me from enjoying these moments? Nothing! I cannot imagine missing these moments. I say screw you pain!!! (I could use more harsh words… but… that would be rude)
On this May 12th, Fibromyalgia Awareness Day… I say let your joy, laughter and blessings be your recovery. Enjoy life, don’t kill yourself doing it, but definitely don’t go the other extreme and stop living. You deserve better!
Before I say good-bye, I have to say how thankful I am to be recognized for the fourth year in a row as one of the top bloggers in Healthline’s 2015 Best Fibromyalgia Blogs. I am so proud to have made the list, it means a lot… and Congratulations to the other winners!!
Thanks for stopping by… I hope today was an awesome day for you!
Tamiko


hitting my mid-life (hahahaha! Hitting? How about hit awhile ago!). When is that mid-life crisis going to come? I’d like a tiny bit of warning because I’m already dealing with so much crazy… to add to it?? Please give me some warning!! I’ve always wanted a convertible… so that’s not really an indication. And honestly, I don’t want any specific anything so much that it screams, “I AM YOUNG AGAIN!”. What I really want most these days is to go to the beach for a couple weeks somewhere tropical and do nothing but read, lay in the shade, watch the sunrise and set… eat good food AND most important I’d really love while I’m on the flight over to this magical place to go through some kind of Bermuda (but not “the” Bermuda) Triangle that results in everyone becoming… let’s just say looking and feeling like their perfect weight/ size. Can I get that for my mid-life crisis? Where can I book this trip? I’ll take the pain (well I’ll take the pain as long as it doesn’t get any worse than it is now… always a caveat)… but like I was saying… I’ll take the pain for the beauty of a tropical beach, some great chick lit books, yummy food and of course the company of my husband! The having a great body part would just be over the top, but damn wouldn’t that be wonderful! I’d love to talk more about the weight thing… but that would just drag me down and it’s not worth getting depressed over – just these few words has affected my happy feeling… soooooooo STOP! Let’s go back to thinking about the beach.

d that all that because over the holidays, like every year I go, go, go to get the house ready, get the gifts purchased and wrapped and make my annual calendars. For the first time ever I didn’t scrapbook the calendar pages. I created digital calendars. It was really difficult for me to let that go and accept that there was just no way I was going to be able to get the calendars done. I didn’t have enough time and I didn’t have the energy. I felt like I should have been able to do it… but my body said… well I think it shouted, “NO!”. So… I listened. I accepted that I do have the many disorders/ conditions/ diseases that are on my medical chart and I gave myself a break. Even on the days I felt good, I knew I would still experience pain – that although it’s not always present, it’s somewhere lurking like a stalker. I don’t want to be the dumbass that is alone in the dark, saying “Come out, come out, wherever you are….”, I’m happy to let it lurk. Those are the folks in the scary movie that always get killed off first. I know it’s there… I’m going to do my damnedest to keep ahead of it. It’s not going to kill my spirit.
Back to the first night at home… as soon as he started to take the bandage off, I started going into a full-on panic attack. I freaked out… and when I say freaked, I mean 
Day 9 – SUCCESS!!!!!! I doubled the dosage of the Restoril and ladies and gentlemen… taadaaaaaaaa!!!! I slept through the night. Everyone in the house celebrated. That’s a lie. My husband and I celebrated… all day long I walked around the house shouting, “I SLEPT THROUGH THE NIGHT!!!!!”. It was like the first time the kids slept through the night… you know the joy I’m talking about? I felt like a brand new person. It had been months since I had slept through an entire night.
What the hell is going on?!! I ask myself this every day. It’s a question that has a bullshit answer. You know exactly what I mean… you’ve been here. I’ll tell you what happened. July 5th I went into a flare. Since that day my pain levels, fibro crap and depression have gotten worse with each day. I haven’t been in a flare like this for years. This shit makes me angry. I thought these days were behind me. I mean, seriously… years have gone by… YEARS!! (do you hear me yelling?)… years without this kind of flare. I’m back to shuffling around the house like Tim Conway in the Carol Burnett show (for those of you older folks that remember). I feel like I’m falling in slow motion and can’t grab anything to stop the fall.
The MOST awesome? My son graduated from UC Santa Barbara. The graduation was wonderful and I couldn’t be prouder of him. He’s overcome a lot to get to this point in his life. If you’ve been following me for a while, you’ve been there through his high school year graduation and now this momentous occasion. It’s amazing. One of the proudest moments in my life as a parent. We have had some of the best conversations in the last six months. This child is no longer a child. He has definitely grown into this awesome, amazing, smart (so damn smart!), caring, loving, beautiful man. It was a blessing that I was physically able to go to his graduation and get through this amazing weekend with family and friends. And the best part? My son is home for good and we are all together as a family again.