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I think I’ve said it before

But I’ll say it again;

Constant pain can be gotten used to. Even expected and treated like a friend. An annoying friend, but something that is always there.

Sudden unexpected pain cannot. But it usually passes quickly.

However, sudden unexpected recurring pain can never be gotten used to, nor does it pass quickly.

All day today I have had sudden unexpected recurring pain in my upper left arm. Just sitting, not moving that arm, just surfing the web and BAM pain.

Just for a second. But sharp. Like someone stuck me with something sharp.

And then it’s gone.

And then it’s back.

And then it’s gone.

And then…

And it’s exhausting. It’s mind blurring. It’s debilitating. It’s distracting.

It’s why I wanted to clean my whole downstairs today but only managed to do the dining room a bit of the kitchen.

It’s why I want to pitch to clients and/or join a freelancers site but don’t because I don’t feel I can commit to deadlines.

It’s why my son watches so much TV in the afternoon.

I just want to be a normal, healthy 46 year old.

Wouldn’t that be nice?

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Lessons From The Not Quite 5 Year Old…

“What did you do today mummy?”

“Well, I walked you to school and then I went to the GP’s office for prescriptions and then to the chemist to get them filled and then to the supermarket for bread and pancakes and cereal bars. And then I came home and had a coffee and did some knitting and then had some lunch and then came to meet your bus. So, really, I did nothing today because I’m not feeling well. Again.”

“But you took me to school and then went to the chemist and the supermarket!”

“True, but I meant I didn’t do any housework today, like I had wanted to.”

“But you knitted! That’s housework!”

“Is it?”

“Yes.” With nearly 5 year old conviction. “You did lots today.”

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Some Day I’ll Realize

that I really can’t keep going and going and going and going. Because I’ll end up in tears sitting on the step stool in the kitchen with my son sobbing as well as Daddy walks in the door from work.

And then I’ll need to take a taxi the next day for school pick up and to get Adam home.

And I’ll get nothing accomplished during my Adam free time except eating too much chocolate, drinking too much coffee and reading MN (you can never read too much MN).

No more long wanders through City Centre on days that I am picking up and dropping off Adam from school/day care. I probably walked 10 miles yesterday between the school run and shopping.

And I paid for it last night and I’m paying for it today.

So instead of working on the new website or folding the laundry or uploading stuff to Mumsnet Belfast I’m sitting here.

Eating too much chocolate and drinking too much coffee.

And the taxi back to school is booked.

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Learning To Accept My Limitations

So, as I’ve said, Sunday the 5th was my birthday. And we had plans for the Saturday. Plans for lunch, for a nice evening meal, a glass of wine, some cake.

Instead, I woke up with a migraine Saturday morning. So I spent the day in bed throwing up and resting. And resting and throwing up. And sleeping. And did I mention throwing up?

And I cursed my head. My body. For once again letting me down. For ruining my plans. Something it does all.The.Time.

I mentioned this to my mother and she, correctly and sagely, pointed out I should get over it. It’s the body I have.

So I am trying to remember that. That it’s the body I have and the world isn’t going to end if all of our boxes aren’t unpacked yet. Or if Adam’s toys aren’t picked up.

I’m finding it very hard, though.

To accept that there are days when, truly, all I can do is sit and rest. Unfortunately, sometimes those are days that Adam is home. And we do nothing but play quietly, colouring and watching TV. And I try to at least take him for a brief walk or have a romp in the back garden. But sometimes even that doesn’t happen.

I know soon he’ll be in school full time and it won’t be a problem any more. For one thing, if he goes where we want him to, it’s a 1.5 mile walk one way to get there! For another, of course they have recess or whatever they call it in the UK.

But I still wonder what he’ll remember. Will he just remember that Mummy loved him always? Or will he remember being bored out of his mind stuck inside because Mummy Hurts?

I’m also really fed up with not being able to do what I want when I want. To run out of spoons some days as soon as I get out of bed.

And it happened again today. I woke up at 5:10am with a headache that felt like it was heading into migraine territory. So I got up and took some Migraleave. And I never puked but I was in bed all day with pain. And it was a beautiful sunny day. And I missed it. Again.

Simon and Adam went to the park. And for a coffee. And to get some shopping done.

And I lay in bed all day. In pain. Sleeping. Missing it.


And I don’t accept it. I don’t know how to accept it. I also can’t change it.

I like to think I live my life not worrying about things I can’t change. Except I can’t change this and I worry about it. It’s a huge disconnect in the way I want to be, to live.

It has taken me over a week to write this post and I’m still not sure what I am trying to say. But I think it’s time to hit publish and get it out there.

I usually like to end on a high note.

I have no high note on this issue.

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“If You Don’t Know What Work To Do, Do the Work That’s In Front Of You.”

The title of this post was said by an American President. I am just not sure which one. It might have been Hoover. I’ve tried look it up on the ‘net but I am not getting anywhere. I know I read it in a Cook’s Illustrated Magazine but I am not sure what issue. If anyone knows who said, do please put it in the comments.

Anyway, whenever I am feeling overwhelmed by life, which happens quite a lot with a toddler, a company and house to run and constant aches and fatigue, I pull that quote into my brain and look around. And I find the thing in front of me that a) most needs doing and b) I have the spoons for.

Today it was folding the laundry mountain. My laundry mountain comes out of the fact that I have combination washer/dryer and the dryer takes, literally, hours to dry things. So if I put a load on in the morning, it might be dry by lunch. But it might not. So then I have to wait to fold it. I know a lot of people will do things like that after their child is in bed. I am not a lot of people. By the time Adam is in bed my spoons are gone.

Now, this was a particularly high laundry mountain. You see, in the last 14 days I have taken 2 days to be ill. One day with a migraine and one day with just general” OMG I hurt”. And those 2 days off put me about a week behind. Due to my fibro I can’t really count on being able to do a lot all at once, so I do it in small bits. I “do the work that’s in front of me”. And doing nothing for 2 days really got things piling up.

So today the thing in front of me was the laundry.

Tomorrow it will be work I am paid for and (hopefully) some work on the marketing I am trying to get together for the company.

After taking Adam to nursery and having a cuppa at my favourite coffee shop.

Also, remember this?

After a boil with a dishwasher tab, a scrub with bicarb, a boil with bicarb and another scrub it now looks like this:

So I live in hope.

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Pin Point Pain

Pin point pain is the name I have given to those sudden unexplained pains that come and go in an instant. I have no idea if they are called something else by the docs.

They are, in a lot of ways, worse than the constant ache in my upper arms. A constant ache can be adjusted to, accepted and dismissed, to the point that it feels really odd when my arms don’t hurt.

But a pin point pain is sudden and harsh and unpredictable. Suddenly, I hurt a lot more. And just for a minute or less. Sometimes they are so strong they leave me breathless. Sometimes I barely register them.

I think these pains are a good indication that the latest theory of Fibro is correct; that it’s not that I’m actually in pain, it’s that the pain receptors in my brain are working incorrectly leading me to believe I am in pain. And the pin point pains are a sudden ‘misfiring’ of those receptors, sending a strong pain signal. For a pain that isn’t there.

Which leads me to the question; why can’t they find a med to fix the misfire? I mean, my brain misfires all over the place already, this is why I have depression and anxiety. And for those I take meds. So where’s the meds for the pain receptor misfire?


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I haven’t been posting much because I haven’t had much to say.

Yes, I know I am two months behind with Adam’s newsletters. And, yes, I know I have never written about my trip to Dublin. So I have things to write about. I just have nothing to say.

One reason for this is my current levels of pain. My bad leg has been hurting worse than ever. In fact, it’s so bad I’ve been limping. I start acupuncture in a week and we’ll see if it helps.

But the thing about pain is that it is consuming. There are things that *have* to get done, i.e. childcare, and that takes priority over writing in this blog. Ye old spoon theory strikes again.

How can it take spoons to write, you might be wondering. Well, then you’ve never written! Everything takes spoons.

And for right now? I’m out of them.

I’ll have more in the morning, of course. But those are already laid out for using. For work, for making dinner, for folding laundry, for walking to get a small boy from daycare. If I have a chance to rest, maybe I’ll have a spare spoon to write another entry.

But maybe I won’t. Only tomorrow will tell.