It's Sunday. Last week I went to my local church. I miss being part of a church, worshiping in a group, the social aspect of it. And the Sacrament. But I was reminded that the location of my worship is irrelevant to my Heavenly Father. I was reminded that the rituals are not really necessary for me to feel close, loved and comforted. No, I don't get to receive Communion, but, I trust that He still dwells in me. It just isn't good for me. And more than that, it depresses me because I put myself through a lot to be there hoping to feel better about life afterwords. Instead, left feeling chewed up and spit out. The environment is entirely too hard for my body. I'd like very much to become a part of some ladies social group but, without being an active parish member, which I can't do if I don't attend Mass, that isn't happening. So, last Sunday was an extremely hard day. And it took me most of the week to bounce up from the mood it left me in. Not entirely sure I'm out of that yet. I can still feel it pulling at me. Depression sometimes feels a bit like gravity. A natural pull downward. Problem-solving creativity and muscular and mental effort are required to oppose it. Those are often hard to come by for me.
At my physical a couple weeks ago, my blood pressure was so low that it alarmed my doctor. She wanted me to come down from a drug to half the dose. I do nearly blackout almost every time I go from low to high position. She explained that the low blood pressure causes this orthostatic hypotension, and that likely the amitrypatline is responsible. I've been on 25 mg of it for years at night but my previous neurologist increased me to 50 in January this year to help with migraine pain and prevention. So, now I have a hard choice in front of me again. I have my migraines under control again, PRAISE the LORD, but my pain is in an escalation. I have decreased the dose back to 25mg and my pain is at the top of the charts again. I'm not sure, of course, there's never a hard, fast guarantee, but I think that if I added back the extra 25mg, it could help with some of this pain. It will just mean also adding back the very low blood pressure. On the surface of it, the decision seems easy to just do what decreases my pain. But, small activities of daily life can't be overlooked. A movement so small as to load a single dish in the dishwasher could absolutely cause me to hit the floor if I'm not VERY careful. It is quite hard, quite an effort to be so careful all the time. I'm not sure yet what choice to make. Keeping it in prayer for now on the decreased dose. Living with the pain.
I do wish our home felt "done" the way we want it. We haven't taken (Tim hasn't had) the time to paint all of it and to replace some of the very outdated fixtures, etc. These things are so minor, really. But for me, I spend my life in this house. It would be a bit more pleasant if it felt cleaner and fresher. We'll get there.
I no longer feel any guilt when Oscar doesn't get a walk. He stays on guard duty in the backyard all day. There is constant danger of a squirrel/bird invasion, and he is militant that it will not happen while he breathes. This week, with so much rain, he actually has spent more time outside than in. He enjoys the heck out of standing with front paws on the tree trunk making sure that darn squirrel doesn't dare come down. And as the squirrels jump around the canopied backyard from tree to tree, he runs back and forth across our large yard, many many times daily. The true beauty of his protection is that he does all this in silence. Never a single bark. So, he gets his exercise, which I'm quite grateful for.
We are going to go out for some fast food lunch and then shopping. Also to pick up meds. They are my migraine abortive, which I've been out of for more than a week, and have been getting by without problems. I have introduced another chemical in the afternoons when my head starts to get tight, a half a Coke Zero with lemon juice. The caffeine is the helper. I'd like to get to a point where I don't rely on any chemical, but, if wishes were.... what's that saying? Anyway, if I had a wish, I certainly wouldn't waste it on a mid-day Coke Zero need. So, that's where I am with that.
Not feeling good about my new psychologist. Not learning from her, not benefiting yet. So far, I have been paying to educate her about myself, my background, my illness. This week at the appointment, I wept about something that happened and was really fighting depression, but she could not even understand why I was so upset. I had to explain every single step and stage of what I went through to her. It felt excessively tiresome. I don't think my expectations are unreasonable. I'm just educating her about life with this. She just needs to read my blog. I've reached out to the support group asking for names of other psychologists who folks with chronic illness can recommend. Neither of my doctors, my primary or my neuro, could help with that. I have a couple to call, but they will need to take my Medicare, which is unlikely.
Still battling loneliness. Still trying to reach out and bring new and old friends closer to me. There's a slope involved because the loneliness breeds a vulnerability for me, which can breed anxiety, and then fear, and then depression. I gotta nip this in the bud. I just do. The depression option is frankly scarier than anything I can think of facing. I never want to do that again.
Today's gratitude is for the abundant healthy and fresh food I have easy access to. Many, many people live in hunger or without the ability to get the nutrients they need because they can't afford foods of high quality. I am blessed in so many ways, but my stocked refrigerator is a huge one.
Have happy days!
Sunday, August 21, 2016
Wednesday, August 10, 2016
Listening Angel
Yesterday I went to my first water aerobics class ever. The warm water of the indoor pool did feel fantastic, and the floating belts that made it possible to do the deep water movements were great. I feel good this morning, in comparison to recent mornings anyway. The difficulty in the day for me was the transit to the Y location. The bus was more than 20 minutes late. I got on at 11:45am. I had already eaten lunch early, which was good thinking on my part. Then, I proceeded to ride around Dallas until 1:25pm when I was finally dropped off at the Y. (A bus ride for me is maybe similar to a regular person getting on a medium roller coaster. I am very shaken up when I arrive at my destination. To say I wasn't in good shape when I got there is the understatement this summer. ) The class started at 1pm, and I was supposed to have been picked up in an 11-11:20 window and dropped off at 12:45. So, I rushed in and changed and hopped in the pool, a bit after 1:30. Very much enjoyed the experience of it. The return bus ride was due to arrive in a 2-2:20 window. I gave myself exactly 5 minutes to strip off my suit, dry, dress, and make it back up to the lobby by 2pm. The bus arrived 3 minutes later. It was quite a frenzy. Here is where I met the listening angel. On the ride home, the driver Ron, and the other passenger, Sam, and I laughed so hard and had such fun talking about how the rides go wrong and how dispatch "gets things done" for us. And my fibro fog was in full swing by this time. I could only speak quite slowly. Sam was sitting directly behind my wheelchair, which was fastened to the front passenger area of the van. He is blind. We'd all only been chatting for a few minutes when Sam asked what kind of accent I had. I told him that what he was hearing was my effort to speak through the fibromyalgia fog, that my brain takes longer to think of words and pronounce them. I don't have any real accent to my natural voice to speak of. (For you who have never heard me during a time like this, or haven't heard anyone try to speak through fog, I pronounce every syllable distinctly, almost as if each syllable were a separate word. I still give inflection, but it is more muted. But ev rey thing is ve ry clear ly spo ken, with all con so nants giv en their sound. This is something I have had to overcome feeling self-conscious about, and I have. And then Sam said "it is so pretty. It is one of the prettiest accents I've ever heard." To me, that is such a high compliment. Here is a man who gets through the world with highly tuned hearing and listening skills. And he heard my speech not as completely difficult and effortful, which it is, but as beautiful and distinctly clear. He said so. It was a more lovely comment than any I've ever had about how I look to a sighted man. It was finding the beautiful diamond in the coal mine. My bus ride angel, reminding me that God dwells in my body.
Grateful for yesterday's adventure, although I have promised my husband not to return to that particular Y location after describing it to him. He did not like the description AT ALL. Grateful that I have another, hopefully cleaner and safer location to try tomorrow. Grateful for this day and all the love I have to give and receive in it.
Grateful for yesterday's adventure, although I have promised my husband not to return to that particular Y location after describing it to him. He did not like the description AT ALL. Grateful that I have another, hopefully cleaner and safer location to try tomorrow. Grateful for this day and all the love I have to give and receive in it.
Thursday, August 4, 2016
New analogy for fog
This week, I've got another metaphor, or maybe an analogy. My primary doctor said it to me during my physical. She was describing my dense breast tissue, and how screening mammograms are useless against it. She said it was like searching for a single white balloon in a white cloud. It was such a good analogy for me to understand why I had to have that extra ultrasound. But, it also is an excellent analogy for fibro fog. For any who have never had a foggy moment, here is what it is like. My vocabulary, not entirely but almost all of it, especially all of the nouns, are captured in a white balloon. As I wander through the cloud of fog, I search for the word I need to communicate in the world. The word is in the white balloon, in the white fog. I cannot find it. The effort to even find it isn't worth the actual having it. This is why words get made up. Words get substituted. I sound dumb. But, I thought this analogy was vivid and appropriately depicted what it feels like to have the words necessary become hidden and unavailable to me. And it conveys why I sometimes say things that are actually not words at all, or things that don't entirely make sense.
Hopefully, this will help somebody better understand their fog, or their loved one's fog. Grateful that the balloon search in my chest did not warrant further action. Have happy, happy days.
Hopefully, this will help somebody better understand their fog, or their loved one's fog. Grateful that the balloon search in my chest did not warrant further action. Have happy, happy days.
Tuesday, July 26, 2016
Wake-up metaphor
I woke up today with this metaphor on my mind. Not sure if it was dream-related or not, but an hour later, the metaphor still has the ring of truth so, I thought I'd write.
Life now, as opposed to life before fibro, is like flying without any autopilot or co-pilot. (Not that I've ever flown anything, lol.) If I'm the pilot of a plane, a jet, under normal circumstances, I have help. I have a copilot for another set of eyes, and I have autopilot to help in other instances. But now, imagine this, I am flying the ginormous aircraft full of life without either. This is what it is like to have fibro, and to live with it. I want and need help just to get through the task. In my case, my task is just moving myself through and functioning at a basic level in my day. It is actually more than a full-time job to do this task. I need so much care, and I am so limited by being alone with it (alone, like the pilot, no one else informed to help with the task) that it overwhelms what my human body is capable of. Now, I am not alone in life. I am happily married and partnered to someone who actually does give a damn. I have a priceless family of origin who treasure me, but none who are geographically close. I have a handful of friends and other family members who love me, but none who can , nor would I want them to, drop what they are doing in their lives to help me get through a day. But, THAT IS WHAT I NEED. no, not need, want. THAT IS WHAT I WANT. I feel so not up to the task that it may as well be Mt. Everest. No exaggeration. Some days, the only way I think I'll survive is because I've survived so many already. Honestly. It's that bad. So the lesson is this: I must take care of myself because I have no copilot nor autopilot. If I shy away from the task, the plane will crash. Life on the plane will be lost. I am ultimately and entirely responsible for life on the plane. There isn't anyone else to turn to, no one else to lean on. Just me. And, I am SOOOOO limited. The only way to get through the day is to let the limitations shine. I know on the surface, that seems like embracing victim-hood, but it isn't. I'm choosing not to be a victim. I'm choosing reality. I'm choosing not to use my precious energy fighting against what isn't winnable. I'm choosing to save it for a purpose of a higher priority, like, getting myself fed. If I wasted my energy fighting about "oh, poor me, I don't wanna live like this, it isn't fair, so much pain, woe is me..." then that takes energy, and quite possibly, the exact amount of energy I could have used to feed myself lunch. I am alone in the cockpit. Yes, that is my only job. Flying the 747-Marie. Waking up and getting through each day. I don't have any autopilot I can turn on so that I can go work at another job. I don't have that extra set of eyes, ears, hands, to propel me through the world without thinking. Every single thing my body does takes a toll. Now, no not all days are this bad, but today is, yesterday was. I had to go yesterday and have a secondary screening mammogram which was incredibly painful. And it began a very immediate and steep decline of everything for me. I, the pilot, fell into like a mental stupor by the time my bus arrived to take me home. After the 45 minute very bumpy ride, it took every bit out of me to unlock my door, get inside, lock it, and roll down the hall to crawl into my bed. I didn't wake until after 4 pm. More than 4 hours later. Didn't eat, which for me is akin to flying the 747 literally without fuel. But, my body was too limited. I couldn't refuel. Couldn't. So, I had to let the limitations have their way. And, somehow, I did survive the day, although if you'd have asked me yesterday, I'd have said it could go either way. Last night I slept 13 hours and I still crave going back to bed, which I will very soon. I'm not a victim though. I'm a survivor. I woke up today. I am able to keep the plane in the air. Somehow. I still fly. Holy crap it's not easy, but I am in flight. For those who don't live like I do, imagine how much easier it would be to fly with another person, and a computer program standing by to assist you at your beck and call. Now imagine you grow used to having those there, to rely on them. Now, imagine they are gone. And you have the entire bloody plane on your own. Against the vastness of the sky.
Anyway, that is my metaphor today. I don't live in any fear simply because right now, fear would take more energy than I've got, lol. But honestly, I have learned that fear isn't real. And I live in reality. The reality that is my body, my responsibility alone. My life, to fill with riches, or to let starve. I WANT TO LIVE.
Grateful today that yesterday's tests revealed nothing troubling.
May you have happy, happy days. Choose to fly your plane.
Life now, as opposed to life before fibro, is like flying without any autopilot or co-pilot. (Not that I've ever flown anything, lol.) If I'm the pilot of a plane, a jet, under normal circumstances, I have help. I have a copilot for another set of eyes, and I have autopilot to help in other instances. But now, imagine this, I am flying the ginormous aircraft full of life without either. This is what it is like to have fibro, and to live with it. I want and need help just to get through the task. In my case, my task is just moving myself through and functioning at a basic level in my day. It is actually more than a full-time job to do this task. I need so much care, and I am so limited by being alone with it (alone, like the pilot, no one else informed to help with the task) that it overwhelms what my human body is capable of. Now, I am not alone in life. I am happily married and partnered to someone who actually does give a damn. I have a priceless family of origin who treasure me, but none who are geographically close. I have a handful of friends and other family members who love me, but none who can , nor would I want them to, drop what they are doing in their lives to help me get through a day. But, THAT IS WHAT I NEED. no, not need, want. THAT IS WHAT I WANT. I feel so not up to the task that it may as well be Mt. Everest. No exaggeration. Some days, the only way I think I'll survive is because I've survived so many already. Honestly. It's that bad. So the lesson is this: I must take care of myself because I have no copilot nor autopilot. If I shy away from the task, the plane will crash. Life on the plane will be lost. I am ultimately and entirely responsible for life on the plane. There isn't anyone else to turn to, no one else to lean on. Just me. And, I am SOOOOO limited. The only way to get through the day is to let the limitations shine. I know on the surface, that seems like embracing victim-hood, but it isn't. I'm choosing not to be a victim. I'm choosing reality. I'm choosing not to use my precious energy fighting against what isn't winnable. I'm choosing to save it for a purpose of a higher priority, like, getting myself fed. If I wasted my energy fighting about "oh, poor me, I don't wanna live like this, it isn't fair, so much pain, woe is me..." then that takes energy, and quite possibly, the exact amount of energy I could have used to feed myself lunch. I am alone in the cockpit. Yes, that is my only job. Flying the 747-Marie. Waking up and getting through each day. I don't have any autopilot I can turn on so that I can go work at another job. I don't have that extra set of eyes, ears, hands, to propel me through the world without thinking. Every single thing my body does takes a toll. Now, no not all days are this bad, but today is, yesterday was. I had to go yesterday and have a secondary screening mammogram which was incredibly painful. And it began a very immediate and steep decline of everything for me. I, the pilot, fell into like a mental stupor by the time my bus arrived to take me home. After the 45 minute very bumpy ride, it took every bit out of me to unlock my door, get inside, lock it, and roll down the hall to crawl into my bed. I didn't wake until after 4 pm. More than 4 hours later. Didn't eat, which for me is akin to flying the 747 literally without fuel. But, my body was too limited. I couldn't refuel. Couldn't. So, I had to let the limitations have their way. And, somehow, I did survive the day, although if you'd have asked me yesterday, I'd have said it could go either way. Last night I slept 13 hours and I still crave going back to bed, which I will very soon. I'm not a victim though. I'm a survivor. I woke up today. I am able to keep the plane in the air. Somehow. I still fly. Holy crap it's not easy, but I am in flight. For those who don't live like I do, imagine how much easier it would be to fly with another person, and a computer program standing by to assist you at your beck and call. Now imagine you grow used to having those there, to rely on them. Now, imagine they are gone. And you have the entire bloody plane on your own. Against the vastness of the sky.
Anyway, that is my metaphor today. I don't live in any fear simply because right now, fear would take more energy than I've got, lol. But honestly, I have learned that fear isn't real. And I live in reality. The reality that is my body, my responsibility alone. My life, to fill with riches, or to let starve. I WANT TO LIVE.
Grateful today that yesterday's tests revealed nothing troubling.
May you have happy, happy days. Choose to fly your plane.
Sunday, July 17, 2016
Six Weeks at Chaha
So, its been about six weeks since the move. I continue to look for the good everywhere. I do have many of the same struggles here as I've had everywhere. The limitations I face with my symptoms are no less limiting here.
I like my new home, I don't love it yet, but I do like it very much. This neighborhood doesn't have the same community feeling as the one we left. I've only met one neighbor, and that's because I walked over and forced myself on her while she was gardening out front. I do wish some of the others would at least introduce themselves. I miss that. It was huge in helping me feel secure.
We've painted two rooms. It will be a long, long process to freshen this house. It is large. We came from a house we sank money into and it was cosmetically lovely. But, it isn't selling yet. We won't sink money into this one until that happens, at the earliest. We did replace the floors before we moved in because 1) they were carpet, no good for wheelchairs, and 2) they were 16 years old and shot. Now, the entire house is tile, except for new carpet in the bedrooms. It is much harder to clean for some reason. This may be because we are still not wholly unpacked. There are only a few boxes packed but, I don't feel all the way moved in still. Pictures are lining the floor of the rooms instead of actually committed to wall space.
I've joined two social groups. Well, one social and one support group. One is a book club, which I enjoyed immensely. The other is a fibromyalgia support group which is also a really good fit for me. I've been to support groups before that I didn't fit with because they were at a different stage of their journey and it was harmful to me to sit and listen to "woe is me" for a couple hours. This one has folks similar to me, just wanting to figure out how to live with this particular dance partner in the best possible way with the best possible quality of life. I was not in good shape when I got there on Saturday afternoon. After sitting there for 2 hours (the chairs were padded and comfy), I was shot for the rest of the day. I'm sure it wasn't a record-breaking measure of pain, but it sure felt like it at the time. I surrendered being "up" at 7 pm and took my night time meds and went to bed. Things are very much the same this morning. I did make myself "roll" with the dog since I haven't walked him for a few days. But, the other room we were going to paint this weekend isn't happening.
I miss my few friends. I haven't been able even to connect with them on the phone for a while, and I feel pretty alone here. This is the first place I've ever lived where I don't have the luxury of driving myself around at all to explore things and get oriented with my new town. So, I only go on the streets where we shop, or if Uber is taking me to a doctors appointment. And since the summer TX sunshine is so bold, I frequently have to ride around with my eyes closed so as to keep my migraines managed. I am right down the street from a lovely large lake, but I don't know any more about it than what we saw when we first looked at the house.
Hopefully, I will be approved to ride the paratransit bus service soon. The private ride services are great, I've used both Uber and Lyft. There is always a driver within 10 minutes of my house and usually within about 5 of where my destination is. And it is always a clean private ride home. Courteous and kind professional drivers, a luxury. But, as often as I go to doctors, expense is an issue. One of my doctors is a $25 ride away. One way. That's what I pay for the doctor visit. The bus will knock it down to $3. There will be less convenience. It will involve a large waiting window, and a non-private ride in a vehicle that is certainly more beat-up than the private Uber cars are, but, it is smarter. I can read or crochet during the down time. It doesn't feel right to waste the large price tag on something I can get cheaper, just because it is more convenient and more luxurious. I am glad to know the services are available though. If I get forgotten by the bus, which has happened in the past, I'll have a backup to call.
I have several family members right now who are struggling. I pray a lot of the time. I pray that they have relative health and sincere happiness. We all have some struggle in our lives. Something is "not easy" for all of us. It is simply how we choose to tackle the obstacle which defines our lives, and the quality of our lives. We can choose to put our head in the sand, to stop in our tracks never going forward, to fight the obstacle, to retreat, etc. But, if we choose to confront it and creatively problem-solve, we can find solutions in the equation of how our life plus the obstacle will work. Obstacles are learning opportunities. Sometimes they are painful. Most of the time, I feel like I am walking scar tissue. But, the key word there is walking. I'm still here, still functioning. I'd like to think I'm tougher since I have endured so much pain, but I'm not sure that's true. What I am sure of is that I have survived it before. Countless times. So, when it comes on now, I remind myself of all the historical personal data which proves I can survive this obstacle. That keeps me from panicking. I can endure. I've already done it before. I know how. Even if it doesn't feel like it, I have to trust that I do.
I'll close with my deep gratitude for yesterday's support group. To be in a room with 18 others who are in the same boat as me is a humbling and life-affirming experience. This is survivable. I do have a lovely life and when I meet others who are surviving it also, it is a monumental comfort. Maybe I'll meet a new friend there. Thank you for these opportunities and for my mental space to engage in it.
Have happy, happy days!
I like my new home, I don't love it yet, but I do like it very much. This neighborhood doesn't have the same community feeling as the one we left. I've only met one neighbor, and that's because I walked over and forced myself on her while she was gardening out front. I do wish some of the others would at least introduce themselves. I miss that. It was huge in helping me feel secure.
We've painted two rooms. It will be a long, long process to freshen this house. It is large. We came from a house we sank money into and it was cosmetically lovely. But, it isn't selling yet. We won't sink money into this one until that happens, at the earliest. We did replace the floors before we moved in because 1) they were carpet, no good for wheelchairs, and 2) they were 16 years old and shot. Now, the entire house is tile, except for new carpet in the bedrooms. It is much harder to clean for some reason. This may be because we are still not wholly unpacked. There are only a few boxes packed but, I don't feel all the way moved in still. Pictures are lining the floor of the rooms instead of actually committed to wall space.
I've joined two social groups. Well, one social and one support group. One is a book club, which I enjoyed immensely. The other is a fibromyalgia support group which is also a really good fit for me. I've been to support groups before that I didn't fit with because they were at a different stage of their journey and it was harmful to me to sit and listen to "woe is me" for a couple hours. This one has folks similar to me, just wanting to figure out how to live with this particular dance partner in the best possible way with the best possible quality of life. I was not in good shape when I got there on Saturday afternoon. After sitting there for 2 hours (the chairs were padded and comfy), I was shot for the rest of the day. I'm sure it wasn't a record-breaking measure of pain, but it sure felt like it at the time. I surrendered being "up" at 7 pm and took my night time meds and went to bed. Things are very much the same this morning. I did make myself "roll" with the dog since I haven't walked him for a few days. But, the other room we were going to paint this weekend isn't happening.
I miss my few friends. I haven't been able even to connect with them on the phone for a while, and I feel pretty alone here. This is the first place I've ever lived where I don't have the luxury of driving myself around at all to explore things and get oriented with my new town. So, I only go on the streets where we shop, or if Uber is taking me to a doctors appointment. And since the summer TX sunshine is so bold, I frequently have to ride around with my eyes closed so as to keep my migraines managed. I am right down the street from a lovely large lake, but I don't know any more about it than what we saw when we first looked at the house.
Hopefully, I will be approved to ride the paratransit bus service soon. The private ride services are great, I've used both Uber and Lyft. There is always a driver within 10 minutes of my house and usually within about 5 of where my destination is. And it is always a clean private ride home. Courteous and kind professional drivers, a luxury. But, as often as I go to doctors, expense is an issue. One of my doctors is a $25 ride away. One way. That's what I pay for the doctor visit. The bus will knock it down to $3. There will be less convenience. It will involve a large waiting window, and a non-private ride in a vehicle that is certainly more beat-up than the private Uber cars are, but, it is smarter. I can read or crochet during the down time. It doesn't feel right to waste the large price tag on something I can get cheaper, just because it is more convenient and more luxurious. I am glad to know the services are available though. If I get forgotten by the bus, which has happened in the past, I'll have a backup to call.
I have several family members right now who are struggling. I pray a lot of the time. I pray that they have relative health and sincere happiness. We all have some struggle in our lives. Something is "not easy" for all of us. It is simply how we choose to tackle the obstacle which defines our lives, and the quality of our lives. We can choose to put our head in the sand, to stop in our tracks never going forward, to fight the obstacle, to retreat, etc. But, if we choose to confront it and creatively problem-solve, we can find solutions in the equation of how our life plus the obstacle will work. Obstacles are learning opportunities. Sometimes they are painful. Most of the time, I feel like I am walking scar tissue. But, the key word there is walking. I'm still here, still functioning. I'd like to think I'm tougher since I have endured so much pain, but I'm not sure that's true. What I am sure of is that I have survived it before. Countless times. So, when it comes on now, I remind myself of all the historical personal data which proves I can survive this obstacle. That keeps me from panicking. I can endure. I've already done it before. I know how. Even if it doesn't feel like it, I have to trust that I do.
I'll close with my deep gratitude for yesterday's support group. To be in a room with 18 others who are in the same boat as me is a humbling and life-affirming experience. This is survivable. I do have a lovely life and when I meet others who are surviving it also, it is a monumental comfort. Maybe I'll meet a new friend there. Thank you for these opportunities and for my mental space to engage in it.
Have happy, happy days!
Wednesday, June 8, 2016
And the Next Chapter Begins
Our family has moved house. We've been here 4 days now. The layout of the house complemented by it's mature backyard trees allows me to actually enjoy looking out windows, something I haven't been able to enjoy doing since I got sick. I don't tolerate unfiltered, glaring sunlight. Here, I have a view of my lovely landscaped backyard all day which doesn't even show me she sky unless I go out onto the patio. Every bit of light is filtered before it gets to me. To me, enjoying the backyard view is like the most beautiful garden ever. I didn't even realize how much I missed seeing grass and trees and flowers. Our home is very near a large lake, so there is a breeze often. Yesterday I could sit out in the afternoon even though it was 90 degrees because I was in such deep shade and there was a breeze. It was, it is lovely. I continue to feel very, very blessed.
I am going to try to take my time unpacking and do it at a pace I can handle rather than the pace I'd like to do it at, the let's just get it done pace.
Oscar and Evy are adapting well. Kitty hasn't missed litterboxes yet. The yard is chock full of birds and squirrels, which is new for him but, he is actually much quieter here than at the previous house.
I have ventured out for only one dog walk, which I did in the chair. We didn't go very far, maybe 15 minutes away from home, and turned around. I do look forward to a time when I am more ambulatory, and my legs are more reliable so I can walk him through the new neighborhood without anxiety about how long I'll last and if I'll make it back home. It is a gorgeous neighborhood, to me.
I spent the first day alone here checking and re-locking the doors multiple times. I didn't do it as much the second day, and today I haven't done it at all. It is a larger house and quite spread out, so, I do think it will take me some time to feel settled here.
I look forward to finding a new pilates class. I look forward to getting my own transportation independence, but that will take a little more than a month. Forms must be filled out by a doctor, and a new doctor must be found , etc.
Many new opportunities exist for us. New church, possibility, new knitting circle, possibility, new library stuff to do, possibility. I know the Lord will continue to be with me and strengthen me when I feel humanly weak.
My spouse is happy at his new job and even happier with his new commute. He said last evening that he enjoyed the train ride, he could close his eyes and relax.
Such gratitude for the transition so far. Such thankfulness for the support and prayers of those who love us. Gratitude that even headaches continue to be manageable even when they grow to migraine level. I am no longer disabled by the severity of them.
Have happy, happy days
Marie
I am going to try to take my time unpacking and do it at a pace I can handle rather than the pace I'd like to do it at, the let's just get it done pace.
Oscar and Evy are adapting well. Kitty hasn't missed litterboxes yet. The yard is chock full of birds and squirrels, which is new for him but, he is actually much quieter here than at the previous house.
I have ventured out for only one dog walk, which I did in the chair. We didn't go very far, maybe 15 minutes away from home, and turned around. I do look forward to a time when I am more ambulatory, and my legs are more reliable so I can walk him through the new neighborhood without anxiety about how long I'll last and if I'll make it back home. It is a gorgeous neighborhood, to me.
I spent the first day alone here checking and re-locking the doors multiple times. I didn't do it as much the second day, and today I haven't done it at all. It is a larger house and quite spread out, so, I do think it will take me some time to feel settled here.
I look forward to finding a new pilates class. I look forward to getting my own transportation independence, but that will take a little more than a month. Forms must be filled out by a doctor, and a new doctor must be found , etc.
Many new opportunities exist for us. New church, possibility, new knitting circle, possibility, new library stuff to do, possibility. I know the Lord will continue to be with me and strengthen me when I feel humanly weak.
My spouse is happy at his new job and even happier with his new commute. He said last evening that he enjoyed the train ride, he could close his eyes and relax.
Such gratitude for the transition so far. Such thankfulness for the support and prayers of those who love us. Gratitude that even headaches continue to be manageable even when they grow to migraine level. I am no longer disabled by the severity of them.
Have happy, happy days
Marie
Saturday, May 21, 2016
The Root, and the Incident
This will be short because I am profoundly weak. Too weak to really sit up for long and type. Two pieces of big news. I found out that I have a MTHFR genetic mutation, and that is the reason I have fibromyalgia. Nothing I did. Nothing I didn't do. Nothing I'm responsible for. Nothing I brought on myself. Just in my DNA, as is brown hair and German, and many other things. Not nearly enough mental energy now to begin explaining it. But, I would have gotten this no matter what I did.
Second, this morning I had to be rescued by a stranger, again. I haven't been at the mercy of the world for some years now but, it happened today and it has shaken me. I was walking the dog, using my cane, and simply underestimated my ability. I sat down on the sidewalk twice for short rests. On the third time, I knew I wouldn't be getting back up. An older man walking his dog found me lying on the sidewalk and walked back to my house (only 5 houses up the hill, I could see it) to get my husband, whose cell phone was off. I can't fully explain how vulnerable a position that is. I might as well have been a newborn, except that I could communicate. I was too weak to stand when Tim got there. Have been since, about 3 hours ago. Had a small cry, got support from a friend. It's upsetting, needing to rely on strangers. For any who wonder how God gives his provisions for us, it is in these people who step up and help. It is not in money or power or security. It is in service to those in need.
Gratitude that I listened to my body closely enough and did not allow it to fall and become injured. Further gratitude for those who care for me, even if it is only for 5 minutes this morning. Thank you Lord.
Have happy days.
M
Second, this morning I had to be rescued by a stranger, again. I haven't been at the mercy of the world for some years now but, it happened today and it has shaken me. I was walking the dog, using my cane, and simply underestimated my ability. I sat down on the sidewalk twice for short rests. On the third time, I knew I wouldn't be getting back up. An older man walking his dog found me lying on the sidewalk and walked back to my house (only 5 houses up the hill, I could see it) to get my husband, whose cell phone was off. I can't fully explain how vulnerable a position that is. I might as well have been a newborn, except that I could communicate. I was too weak to stand when Tim got there. Have been since, about 3 hours ago. Had a small cry, got support from a friend. It's upsetting, needing to rely on strangers. For any who wonder how God gives his provisions for us, it is in these people who step up and help. It is not in money or power or security. It is in service to those in need.
Gratitude that I listened to my body closely enough and did not allow it to fall and become injured. Further gratitude for those who care for me, even if it is only for 5 minutes this morning. Thank you Lord.
Have happy days.
M
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