My symptoms, in no particular order, because, well they are chaotic...
From my post on Facebook: It’s taken me three weeks to come to a point where I feel the need to share. This isn’t about sadness or gloom and doom, so no sad faces, please. This is about awareness. Awareness in many forms—self, situational, societal.
As many know I’ve been struggling with my health for years now. If it’s not one thing it’s certainly been another. For the past two or so years I’ve become more reclusive, in varyingly equal parts by conscious and subconscious decision.
It’s not certain what the catalyst was—nature, the car accident, the tumor that wreaked havoc, just plain everyday stress or if there really has been a defining moment. There isn’t a real known etiology.
Lazy? Far from it. You know this if you really know me. Separation from the things or activities or projects or people that once brought joy. Energy sapped.
Weakness. Grocery shopping becomes a chore beyond the norm. It’s best to have someone to finish out the trip while you go rest in the car or on a bench, if one’s available.
Pain? Always. Everywhere. Intermittently. Widespread. Constantly. Bring on the CBD. Chest pain once only attributed to GERD.
GERD. Longtime companion once held at bay with a PPI. Increasing frequency of indigestion. Choking/coughing spells. Laughing brings on the coughing too. And the coughing, sometimes it’s severe.
Words. Drop ‘em like they’re hot. Mid-sentence. Eh, so what — the attention span has always been that of a gnat. Mid-thought.
Thoughts, you say? Missing the turn you normally take to a well-known destination. Knowledge, ideas, memory. See above.
We won’t talk about the TMI stuff. Those who know, know.
Sleep. Interesting concept. Diphenhydramine, add CBD, add flexeril. Only waking up once for a plumbing check is priceless. Add even more recurrent dreams, not always good ones.
Three weeks ago I got the diagnosis I knew was lurking. Over the past couple of years I’ve reached out and talked with some others who’d already been diagnosed. Research and more research.
The stages of grief.
Finally. Acceptance. Freedom, or a piece of it, happened three weeks ago. With a diagnosis a plan can be constructed.
Improvement has occurred. Coping strategy is in place.
Good support is priceless.
This is a glimpse into my journey with fibromyalgia. Again it’s not about sadness or to gain pity. It’s about awareness. If my story can help someone else, so be it. If you’ve read through to this part please know I appreciate your walking this journey with me.
Thank you xoxo
As many know I’ve been struggling with my health for years now. If it’s not one thing it’s certainly been another. For the past two or so years I’ve become more reclusive, in varyingly equal parts by conscious and subconscious decision.
It’s not certain what the catalyst was—nature, the car accident, the tumor that wreaked havoc, just plain everyday stress or if there really has been a defining moment. There isn’t a real known etiology.
Lazy? Far from it. You know this if you really know me. Separation from the things or activities or projects or people that once brought joy. Energy sapped.
Weakness. Grocery shopping becomes a chore beyond the norm. It’s best to have someone to finish out the trip while you go rest in the car or on a bench, if one’s available.
Pain? Always. Everywhere. Intermittently. Widespread. Constantly. Bring on the CBD. Chest pain once only attributed to GERD.
GERD. Longtime companion once held at bay with a PPI. Increasing frequency of indigestion. Choking/coughing spells. Laughing brings on the coughing too. And the coughing, sometimes it’s severe.
Words. Drop ‘em like they’re hot. Mid-sentence. Eh, so what — the attention span has always been that of a gnat. Mid-thought.
Thoughts, you say? Missing the turn you normally take to a well-known destination. Knowledge, ideas, memory. See above.
We won’t talk about the TMI stuff. Those who know, know.
Sleep. Interesting concept. Diphenhydramine, add CBD, add flexeril. Only waking up once for a plumbing check is priceless. Add even more recurrent dreams, not always good ones.
Three weeks ago I got the diagnosis I knew was lurking. Over the past couple of years I’ve reached out and talked with some others who’d already been diagnosed. Research and more research.
The stages of grief.
Finally. Acceptance. Freedom, or a piece of it, happened three weeks ago. With a diagnosis a plan can be constructed.
Improvement has occurred. Coping strategy is in place.
Good support is priceless.
This is a glimpse into my journey with fibromyalgia. Again it’s not about sadness or to gain pity. It’s about awareness. If my story can help someone else, so be it. If you’ve read through to this part please know I appreciate your walking this journey with me.
Thank you xoxo
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