ohbloodyhell8

A few years ago I was feeling tired and sore all the time.  Went to lots of appointments, found an unrelated growth in the left ovary (bye, bye left ovary) and was finally told I have fibromyalgia and may have had it for years.  I used to take one of the meds that can be used to treat it for another issue but went off that med as we were trying to get pregnant.  Then I was pregnant, nursing, pregnant, nursing and so attributed the physical pain to that.  Yet after finishing nursing with my youngest, I still felt pain all the time and really tired and all the other lovely symptoms that go with fibromyalgia.

I choose not to use the medicines because of the dreadful side effects.  With that choice, there is a lot of pain.  Usually it is tolerable.  Lately though it has been taking a lot of effort to get through the work day.  By the time I get home, I am completely wiped.  I make sure to use whatever energy I can summon up to have time with my sons and then I collapse.

My hands hurt.  My wrists, ankles, knees, hips, shoulders.  My appetite is inconsistent.  There are other issues but no one really wants to read about those particularly if you just ate, are about to eat, or ever want to enjoy eating again.

Please know that while this really does sound like a whiny series of complaints, it is not meant to be.  I am simply stating my daily existence.  It’s a blessed existence and I can handle it, but I’m behind right now in prepping for the holidays.  I am mostly writing about this to reaffirm for myself that it does not have to be perfect, family knows what one’s house truly looks like, and the boys will have an awesome Christmas making lovely new memories to cherish forever.

And I will have over a week to not have to go to work.  I love my job.  I’ve had a particularly lovely semester.  I just cannot believe how tired I am.  Remember, I’m not old, I’m cultured.  Yet I feel ancient.  The pain in my fingers when I type is almost unbearable.  Yes, I appreciate the irony that I’m typing right now.  My ability to write with a pen or pencil is failing miserably.  My signature is unrecognizable to me at this point.

But over a week without having to go through the almost 30 mile commute and all the miserable people who drive without regard for the other cars on the highway.  Over a week to be with my sons and husband.  Over a week to work on our home during the few hours each day when the pain is not as bad.  I can get adjustments from my hubby and maybe my right arm will stop being numb.

Okay, this is a whiny series of complaints.  Pity party is over.  I would love to write that I feel empowered and rejuvenated from getting this off my chest.  But I am still simply going to go to bed.  Good night.