So it’s been a little while since I’ve written specifically about my good friend, fibromyalgia. And his sweetheart, Pain, who accompanies him everywhere.
The increase in meds has been helping. I am certainly taking less Vicodin than I was several months ago. There are more good days than bad, but the bad ones catch me sort of off guard, seem to hit a little harder as I have more days where I feel almost like I used to. And I still can crash hard and fast, with little warning–which is very disheartening.
I am trying to rebuild all the muscle tone (haha, as if I ever had any!) and endurance I have lost sitting in a chair for most of this year. Beloved and I have started going to the pool–which is fortunately RIGHT next door to our apartment. He swims energetically and I just paddle around. With my right shoulder as sore and tight as it is, doing much of any recognizable swim stroke is out of the question. But at least just moving around in the water is more activity than I was doing. It’s a start, right?
Any life outside of the house is mostly comprised of doctor visits and grocery store shopping. We have added a new person: the lawyer who is going to assist us in applying for permanent disability with the Social Security Administration. We could do this by ourselves, but given the complexity of the system, the pathway through denial and appeals, up to a court hearing–it just seems better to have someone who can steer us through the shoals. She seems to feel that both of us stand a very good chance of being approved, which was good to hear. It will of course take a while, as all bureaucratic quests require leveling up in the labyrinth. And fighting the boss monsters. Definitely good to have a Paladin on our side!
We’re trying to make our meals a bit more regular–and a bit more at home. I am able to cook some times…and when I do, only that meal is assured because a second cooking is still beyond my ability to do. But we are trying to impose the “accommodate the reality of our life” requirements onto eating–and making sure that we eat as healthfully as possible. And to make only what we can eat within that day–or the next day at most. No huge pots of chili, no enormous amounts of anything. We both prefer variety too much and I’m really bad about not eating leftovers. Not a conscious thing, just forget that we’ve got them and go on to make something else. So we’re adapting to the European model of shopping almost daily and only having the meat and fresh foods in the house that we intend to eat within 24-48 hours. (More or less, depending on the reality of our health on any given day.)
Not much from the granddaughter front, haven’t spoken to my daughter lately. (According to FB, she’s been sick and chicken soup really only tastes good when you’re sick.) My daughter-in-law, however, does update on the Froggy. Turns out that what they thought was him saying “da da da” was actually SINGING Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony–“da da da DA! da da da DA!”. And then he changed it up for the Imperial March from Star Wars…you know, when Darth Vader is around. The last bit of update we got from her was that she asked him if he was ready for a nap and he blew a raspberry and grinned. As she says, “Great. A smart ass already. I am doomed.” I’m just surprised it took her this long to figure it out–since he was doing the eyebrow raise when he was here in December.
The lawyer spoke with us at great length–2 hours for the first consult! And asked if I was seeing a psychologist or counselor. Ya know, with everything else that’s going it, it hadn’t really occurred to us that I probably should be. So Hubby is going to find out if the health insurance will cover me for mental health and then find out if HIS counselor’s business associate (and husband) would take me as a client. Updates on that when and if it happens. Should be interesting because I’m the person that when they say to think outside the box, goes, “Box? What box? Nobody told me there was a box!”. I suspect that if it does work out, it will be beneficial.
I am more aware that the weather has greater impact on my general feelings than I had thought. We get several storm fronts move through and I’m a mess, having to take extra Vicodin. Yay, I’m a human barometer. And Mold Detector. Not exactly things that I can get paid money for–and even if I did, the pain they cause is not worth the income they’d generate, haha.
Still moving things around in the house, still slowly emptying boxes out and trying to get things put into some order. Gonna take the dresser I’ve had in my closet and in use for underclothes, socks and some shirts…empty the drawers and put the clothes into the wire basket stack. Put the dresser across the end of my desk and the bookcase that backs up against it, use the dresser for some real storage.
I am also going to go through my closet and pack up the work clothes that I will not (ever) need (again). I’m going to have my clothes accommodate the reality of my life–caftans and soft dresses, things I can pull off and on easily; leggings and large tops, things I can layer for winter but still wear in the hot seasons. My feet are not as consistently sausage-sized swollen, so *maybe*, just maybe, I’ll be able to wear my beloved heels. Instead of the damned flats which are all I’ve been wearing for about 6 months now. Sigh.
So nothing major, in either good or bad direction, to report. Doing the same normal things, still seeing my doctors more than my friends…at least the driving in this area is lovely, considering how many miles we put on the vehicle. Getting slowly better, to a more liveable level but having to deal with the idea that I may never be what I was just 2 or 3 years ago–and as I look back, I realize that I was already slowing down and having to make more accommodations even then. So I’ll never be a rock star…but I’m okay with that because even with the limitations of fibro, I am finding new things to do, new gifts to offer. And life, as it is wont to do, goes on.