September Post

Nothing terribly eventful or exciting has happened lately.  Just a monthly post to keep current.

Update on the parallels of Swiss Family Robinson to living with chronic illness:  I think I picked out most of them early in the book.  It is seen in the attitudes.  The rest of the book is the story, which is fictional.  Truly fictional, as it has lions and kangaroos, and penguins, and ostrich you can saddle and ride.  But, it is enjoyable, and a good escape, which is what I like my reads to be.

I have had some trouble lately with night terrors.  After talking it over with friends, it allowed me to give it clarity in my mind so I could talk about it with T and with my therapist.  Finally, with a few plans of action to try, the one that has been successful at giving me the most terror free nights is 5-10 mg of Valium.  This is a fair trade off to waking up screaming in my mind.  My new psychiatrist didn't have any problem prescribing the benzo for me, as now many want patients to see a pain specialist for those meds.  I hope they are a temporary sleeping thing and I will periodically try to sleep without the med, in an effort not to depend of the drug.  But, since I became afraid to sleep at one point, that is not a fear which I can abide if there is an option.

T and I seem to both be in a really good place both mentally and emotionally.  My health is iffy right now as seasons change.  One thing that you can bet the farm on is that during a seasonal change, I will be suffering more.  My body doesn't like or adapt well to change.  Home is a very happy place.  He is working out almost daily.  He walks the dogs almost daily, which is a new turn of events in the household.  Norway the cat has come to be more loving, affectionate and comfortable with us all in the last month or so.  He spends time hanging out with us, where before he separated himself.  Neither of us are good at engaging him in play.  We should work on that.

Grateful that a few friends have reached out to me lately in their own life crises.  Grateful that I'm seen as someone who will listen with compassion, without judgment, with love and honesty. Grateful that during those times I was needed to listen, I had the lucidity to do so.  It is so important to feel needed and wanted.  And being there for them allowed me to feel that.  A priceless feeling.

Attempting my first craft show next month, so spending time trying to get inventory for that prepared.  My only hope is that I can make the money back that I pay out for the booth.  Set expectations low.  lol

I am doing fairly well.  Symptoms are rampant but, I am happy and well-nourished.  I do some active exercise most days.  I am eating carefully.  I constantly learn about the details of my illnesses, giving me validity that what I experience is a shared issue among my dazzle (my group of zebras).

Today is September 11.  I hope and pray that people worldwide can focus on the positives of that day, and not the negatives.

Thankful for my life, grateful that I live far from the sea and any hurricane threat.  Thankful that my family weathered the recent storms well.

Have happy days,
Marie

Swiss Dazzle Zebranson

I have never read many of the classics, despite my love of reading.  I do venture out of my favorite genres occasionally but, there are so many good and entertaining books on my "To Read" list already, that I just can't see Moby Dick or some such being a better choice for me.  Well, Audible had a Daily Deal for The Swiss Family Robinson so I thought, why not?  That treehouse was one of my favorite places at Disney World, or whichever amusement park housed it.

I am only into it about 5 chapters, and I am LOVING it.  It is the epitome of "solve your problems without complaining too much, be grateful for what you have because you could have less, and let's get on with the business of enjoying our lives".  I find it a parallel story to becoming chronically ill.

This family, alone, but all together, are stranded on an uninhabited island.  The ship transporting them and many others wrecked in the sea and they made it to shore safely, together.  Parallel:  You no longer inhabit the world you were in, against your will, and now you must figure out how to live in this new place.  Also, your dreams for whatever you were headed towards are smashed.  

They have to figure out everything that used to be understood.  Everything has to be rethought and new solutions must be sought for every purpose.  How to cook food?  How do we address safety? There is no immediate comfort.  Nothing is set up for them to dwell here.  Parallel:  You can no longer do things the way you used to, the way you've done them for years, the way you were taught.  You have to change everything, so as to not hurt yourself.  You can't wash dishes the same.  You can't prepare food the same.  You can't move around in space the same way.  No matter what you do, comfort eludes you. All of a sudden, your whole world is foreign and doesn't work for you.  

They don't really want to be there.  They were on their way to a colony, with the ship full of provisions of every kind to set up a new life.  There was food on the ship, and livestock.  Weapons, and ammunition.  Building materials and tools.  They had their cow, pig, donkey, sheep.  Mom, Dad, Fitz, Ernest, Jack, and ..... can't remember the fourth boy.  They get from the wreckage to the island even though only 2 of them can swim.  They just figure out how to use what's in their environment to their advantage.  Parallel:  You don't want to be where you are finding yourself, either.  You had your life set up with your provisions, your stuff you love, your job, your activities.  You've got mostly all the same stuff at hand as you used to, but you find now that you can't access the stuff in the same way you could.  Or its a cherished item, but now redundant.  Or its something you thought useless, and now priceless.  You find you new ground.  You use what you have to do get stuff done.  You knock cereal boxes off high shelves with your cane.  You hold on to furniture as you walk around.  You listen to your body and sit, even though sitting might be entirely inconvenient.  Your set-up is the same, but, you've got to make use of it differently.  

Dad is full of wisdom.  He is our true leader.  He is quick to praise his wife and each offspring and does so with love.  He teaches that they must not kill any living thing without need.  He states and exemplifies that evil shall not repay evil.  He reminds his boys that bitterness at those who left them stranded is misguided and false.  Those folks may have perished, or indeed may be starving to death presently.  Mom takes on each task with cheer.  Communication is open.  Steps are taken as much as possible to procure safety for the immediate future.  She doesn't display fear, none of them do.  Instead, they pray.  They pray together.  They say they trust God, and then they truly do TRUST Him.  Parallel:  Life is better when you live in appreciation.  This is especially true when chronic illness strikes, in my opinion.  It strips away what is superficial in one fell swoop, and what you are left with are your true essentials, for which you are and should be, super grateful.  If those essentials include others, and what they do for you, praise and thanksgiving of them and their presence and effort only makes them want to help you more.  That is a bit of truth.  You sometimes want others who you think are more deserving of this pain to endure what you've got, after all, you're a good person, you didn't do anything wrong to deserve this.  What's-her-name, now SHE deserves to live in this pain.  But, that's not really true is it?  That's evil in your heart, wanting to spread evil because you're miserable.  You feel evil has been done to you.  It hasn't.  Illness is illness.  It is neither good nor evil.  And it isn't for you to judge what anybody deserves.  You are not their creator.  Also, there are always people who will be in better positions and in less desirable positions than yours.  A fact of every life.  Get over it.  Be grateful you're not starving to death.  Yup, you might only be able to eat certain things without getting sick, but at least you have access to those things.  At least you can digest some of it, and you can afford some of it.  And it sucks to have to do chores while you feel ill but, its true that if you put your mind in a cheerful place, every single thing that must be done, is easier.  Everything.  It's important to discuss your situation with your close loved ones, whether they be family or friends.  Make sure others know what's going on with you now.  How things have changed.  How they can help you if they care to.  Know that fear is false.  It is nothing but your inner bully.  Now, prepping for the unknown is different.  Thinking about realistic problems that could arise, like, maybe you'll get so worn out in the grocery store that you may fall from exhaustion.  You could use a wheelchair or one of the little store carts to solve that problem.  But, fear itself, it isn't really real.  It has only power you give it.  If you decide instead to pray, that's where you place your power.  In your faith in the Lord.  Prayer gets you through those painful days when you think, surely this is what dying feels like.  Prayer keeps your heart grateful for your essentials:  your food and water, your dwelling place, your air conditioning and heat, your bed or chair.  Your medicine.  You become aware, and at peace with the fact that, you control very little.  You control how you react, that's mostly it.  And you control your relationship with God.  If you commit to the second, the first will unfold naturally.  You can't just profess to trust.  You must take the next step even though the staircase is invisible.  

I'm only about 5 chapters into this lovely book, and I'm listening to a fabulous narrator, by the way, and am about to close here to turn it back on while I make my lunch.  I love it though.  It might be my new favorite.  It is the prime example of human beings rising above what hand of cards they are dealt, and still, being perfectly happy folks.  Folks who can still laugh, still sing, still find so much joy in everything.  Sometimes life just sucks.  But, you still can figure out how to get a cow, several sheep, a donkey, and a sow from their hold in a wrecked ship onto land, if you really try.  (It involves tying a lot of casks to them for flotation and then linking them all together in a parade fashion, and unceremoniously throwing them into the ocean, one by one, watching them all sink, and then float back up.)

My title of Swiss Dazzle Zebranson is my EDS homage to them.  Since I do have Hypermobile Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, as one of my unique superpowers, I get to be known to doctors and to other EDSers as a Zebra.  Non-EDS folks are the horses.  We are different in a way that is unique to each of us, since no two zebras have the same stripes.    A dazzle, I just learned yesterday, is a group of zebras.  So, instead of using Family, as the book title, I'm using Dazzle because I love it, and I am uniquely part of the world of Zebras too, now.  I will never not be a Zebra again.  Just like I will always be my parents child.  So, Swiss Dazzle Zebranson is born.

I will continue my parallels, I'm sure, but that's what I wanted to share today.  It's a beautiful world, strive to be happy, even in difficult circumstances.  So grateful that I can say I am.  I do have blue days.  But not today.  Today is yellow.
Have happy, happy days all.

Betrayal

So, I am not hurt anymore, but I was last night.  Truly teary-eyed hurt, and betrayed.  I mentioned this therapy in one previous blog post but, only in passing, I think.  For the last 4 months, I've been having electro-pain management therapy by a therapist, lets call her Henrietta.  It has come to our (mine and Tim's) awareness now that she is manipulating me.  A large bill was sent a few weeks ago, at which time I immediately cancelled the next appointment.  I texted that I wasn't comfortable spending that much on the therapy (I hadn't gotten any bill from March until the very end of June, so I didn't know how much it was costing each month.)  Now, let me stop here and mention that this therapy helps me.  It is hard to know how much since life and my condition is so fluid, but it definitely does help me, and without any side-effects.  And, Henrietta is the only therapist of her kind in my city.  There aren't any other choices for me to go see.  So, let me say that I mention that I usually look forward to it, not the bus ride there and back, but the therapy session, yes.

Well, it has become clear that she is trying to bill me twice for my treatment.  There should be no bill whatsoever, or maybe one for under $20ish, but certainly not several hundred dollars.  Her reply to my original text was to call me and tell me that she "thought what was happening was that the billing specialist had not applied any of my co-pays to my balance"  and that she would have them call me that afternoon.  Also, she said she "never wants me to cancel an appointment due to money".I said ok, and I rescheduled that week's appointment.  So, at the next appointment, I was in a crap cognitive state and she didn't mention anything about the bill.  Nor did I.  But, she was very, very nurturing.  She took more careful care of me than ever before.  She even asked me what else she could do for me before the session ended.  She's never been nearly that patronizing before.  Just sort of "kissed my a__".  Which feels like a good thing when you live in chronic pain, to have someone nurture you so much, but it was unusual.

More than 2 weeks went by and the office never called about the large balance.  I texted her asking about it, blaming Tim, saying that he didn't want me having any more treatments until we understood what we owed.  Her text reply was that my copay was $45, not $40, per Shannon, who must be her billing specialist.  I replied, "what about the over $400.00 balance?"  She said, "bring me the bill when you come on Tuesday."  This is no mistake.  This is not incompetence.  This is manipulation of me.  She is counting on me feeling too crappy to have the strength to confront her, which is true.  She is also counting on the fact that this treatment is the only one I have found that helps me, which is also true, which she knows because I told her, repeatedly.   She's been told now that my Tuesday appointment is cancelled.  I offered no reason or excuse.  I feel compelled to do that, because I think it's expected of me, but, I am now convinced by my spouse that it's unnecessary.

She provided therapy that helped.  I have tried many, many therapies that have not helped.  It is covered by my insurance.  It is in a part of town I can actually get myself to and from.   She, and here is where I'm hurt, pretended to care about me and my health.  She advised.  She instructed.  She even scolded to some degree.  But, I felt cared for.  I felt taken care of.  But, I'm really, an opportunity to double-bill.  Nothing more.  So, Henrietta, I am breaking up with you.  I don't have the physical or mental strength to confront her about the issue.  But my spouse does.  And he is taking up the reins.  And I am going to leave it in his hands.  I am going to think no more of it.  Let it go.  But, it is betrayal.  Just because I was paying her copay, it is not any less betrayal.

Grateful that I can even afford therapy like this.  Grateful that my pain isn't so blinding that I'm willing to let her continue to defraud me.  Praying it won't get to that point.

Have happy days, and watch out for yourselves.

My Poor Sweet Little Subconscious

I feel bad for her.  When I am awake and in my knowing state, and have the ability to access my faith, my friends, my family, my spouse, my dogs and cat, I really can say without reservation that I don't have fear related to being disabled.  Honestly, I don't.  But, the deepest part of me might still.  When I dream, I dream of not being able to save myself from something due to the limitations of my disability.  I know that lots of folks dream of suddenly not being able to run when they need to or can't move their (whatever body part) when they want to, and someone is lurking or chasing them,  yadda, yadda.  For me, my dreams are more specific.  I am always in a dire, catastrophic situation and I always cannot physically move my body quickly enough to avoid being hurt or killed.  (Sometimes, I cannot get anybody to help me, despite the begging.)  Last night's dream was new.  I was on a college campus, and one very good high school friend was with me.  I left lunch early, alone, walking with great difficulty with my cane, on my way to the Science buliding.  As I passed by another building, I got about 20 feet away from it when it collapsed on top of me.  As it fell, I tried to move faster down the sidewalk, and I couldn't.  So I dove for cover underneath a bench.  And I did survive the disaster, but I also lost part of myself.  One of my fingers.  So, I am not as fearless as I claim to be, or want to be.  Or maybe the primal part of me is always going to fight for survival and strive for it, even though I am peaceful with the concept of meeting Jesus.  Probably that's a biological thing, just like fighting for air when you are drowning.  I'm tired of waking up thinking, man, if I hadn't been in that wheelchair, I'd have been able to get down the stairs and away from (whatever).  What it really means is that in my subconscious, she knows that I am permanently changed.  I'm not able to protect and save her child-like innocence.  She is at the mercy of what happens, as am I.  She is scared.  I'm not, but I'm awake.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not welcoming death any time soon, but I am absolutely ok with it when it happens.  I love life, and I avoid danger, but I am not afraid of dying.  This life has shown me what faith really is, and how much My Father adores me.  That being said, a whole building did fall on top of me last night.  And I lost part of myself.  And, if I hadn't been disabled, I might have saved myself.  I might not, but, in this situation, I physically could not.  Subconcsious me is a bit sad when I wake up from those dreams.
Grateful that I haven't had any buildings fall on me.  And for the nice, safe, comfortable one I sit in now.
Have happy days.

What I Have To Live With and How I Manage Not to be Scared

Yesterday was a doozy for me.  It began with a lovely morning dog walk.  Both dogs behaved, too, so that’s always a bonus.  I walked with them easily and quickly, and only needed to use my cane at the very end.  It was humid so, we only walked about 25 minutes.  That’s quite a long time for me to walk.  The key is to do it first thing in the morning, before I even feed us.  Got home, got myself ready for my bus ride to my psych appointment.  Had an enjoyable ride, the driver and I laughed and laughed together.  I was in a good mood and had some positive, proud moments to tell my therapist about my life.  Had a nice, uneventful meeting with her, and then went downstairs to wait for my return home bus.  I had an hour to wait.  I ate a protein bar and some quality jerky, took my lunchtime pills, and had plenty of salty hydration, so, I was set.  I have to constantly watch and make sure I am getting both enough protein and enough salt.  I have POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome) and two of the effective treatments for me have been those adjustments, high salt, high protein.  Also, I have hEDS (Hypermobile Ehlers Danlos Syndrome) which is a painful connective tissue disease.  It’s rare, and genetic, incurable and painful.  On top of those, my little basket also holds migraines, Raynauds syndrome, MALS (mesenteric artery ligament syndrome), gastropariesis, some arthritis, and reactive depression.  Oh, and fibromyalgia.  Anyway, I have lived with symptoms of these for about 13 years so, I have learned how to cope and what my body needs and when.  Except for yesterday. 

While I was waiting for the bus to come, sitting in my wheelchair reading, I felt a sudden flushing of my body.  Immediately nauseated plus the feeling of needing to go #2, badly.  (Neither of those happened.)  I felt way too warm, like I wanted to begin peeling off my clothes, but I wasn’t sweating.  I was very confused, very dizzy.  But, the thing that was a bit scary was the profound weakness.  It felt like my head weighed at least 20 pounds and my neck was a few stalks of dry straw.  Couldn’t hold it up.  In fact, when the bus pulled up, I was in the process of getting out of my chair to lie on the hallway floor because I couldn’t sit up any longer.  Slowly, I got myself out to the vehicle, and the driver was jovial, and remembers me as being such in the past, and I told him I didn’t feel well.  He turned up the AC and let me sit quietly.  Kept checking on me throughout the ride.  Got to my home about 45 minutes later, and I couldn’t have stood up to save myself.  That’s downright scary when I’d been walking independently just a few hours before.  Timothy, my husband, was already home from work, and I called him on the way and told him I needed help.  He could hear in my voice that I did and it was serious.  So, he met us at the curb.  I couldn’t lift my bag.  My head was lolling on my shoulders, which is really painful if you have EDS because our necks seem to always be sort of unstable and out of whack. 

As soon as he wheeled me inside, I could feel the drastic depth of my symptoms because, normally for me, just being back in my home makes me feel a little better, if only psychologically and emotionally.  Yesterday, not so.  I had him take me straight to my bedroom, and it was a chore to strip and get into the bed.  (I don’t tolerate any clothes on me in bed.)  By then I had a migraine working.  After I had rested 30 minutes or so, I got up, into my chair, to the bathroom, and then to the kitchen to get a drink, and headache pills, then back to my bed.  All from my chair.  I had to take about 4 steps from the door of the bathroom to the toilet, and those were risky.  Migraine wasn’t the controllable kind, so I knew things were different.  Bad different. 

At that point, I wanted so much to pass out and escape, but I reached out instead.  I got on both of my two support groups and told of my afternoon.  Told of the symptoms, the onset, the results, my safety, my current status.  I was home safe.  With a responsible adult.  But, I still didn’t know what was going on, nor why it happened.  And this very thing wasn’t brand new, it had happened before.  I needed to understand it.  I wasn’t at peace.  I wouldn’t be able to rest peacefully until I knew what was going on.  I knew this.  A few hours after I’d been in bed resting, chatting with my friends about what it may be, the migraine bloomed into a full-rose, and the vomiting began.  This was new and different.  So, now I had to make a choice whether or not to be scared. 

And that’s exactly what I did.  I made a choice not to be scared.  The unknown is terrifying, if you give it that power.  Also, it can be thrilling, if you give it that power.  It’s unknown after all.  Just neutral.  When you’re suffering, you already have momentum on a certain path, and it isn’t good.  It’s only natural to think you will continue on where you’ve got momentum.  Not that irrational to suspect things could continue to feel crappy, and wonder just how crappy they’ll get, and whether you can handle it.  But, here’s the truth.  The truth of my life and what living with chronic illness has taught me.  I keep surviving.  Every single time.  And as long as I have faith that I will survive it, it no longer worries me.  I have deep faith that the one time I don’t survive, if that happens, I will be in the Best Hands Ever, with Christ.   Until then, I reach out to my support system to keep me from panicking.  They jump in with good vibes, and suggestions, and possible triggers.  And prayers.  And I feel loved.  Cared for.  And then, I could rest peacefully.  I could sleep.  After seeking help.  Help is out there. 

This morning is better.  I figured out that I think I was feeling side-effects from a muscle relaxer I took yesterday morning (I tweaked my low back changing the sheets on my bed the day before).  I wouldn’t have even remembered that if not for my friends suggesting possibilities.  So, that’s entirely understandable.  And no wonder my head was too heavy to hold up.  And I can say that I don’t have fear going forward.  I always want to be able to say that, with honesty.  There are a crap-load of events and issues that are entirely out of my control, and then there are even more happening within my skin that are outside my control.  But, if I can control something, even if only my attitude, then I control everything.  Lovely finish.  Gotta go back to bed now.  

Kudos From the Dentist

In my desire not to brag, lol, I want to share how proud I am that my successful coping was recognized by my dentist.  I see a dentist who sees a lot of Ehlers Danlos patients, because we are a bit harder to treat, teeth wise.  It's really only the anesthetic part that's tricky for us, but regardless, he is informed and was recommended to me by my local support group.  I had prep work for a crown the other day, and a filling, and today I got the temporary crown put on.  I hadn't had any dental work done for a while, and I need just another visit, and then I will be good for a while, I hope.  Anyway, Dr. M today was very complimentary of me in my ability to find solutions for myself.  He has seen many other EDS patients, and he said, as a health care provider, there is a limit to what can be done FOR you.   He said medical professionals don't like to fail, they have egos, his words, not mine.  When a doctor can't help, patients complain adopting a victim role.   At some point, you have to become engaged in your own health care and pull up your own bootstraps to be empowered and to develop self-respect, which then leads to respect from others.  He said that at some point, even in the face of the pain, all they crappy symptoms, all the unknown, you've gotta quit whining and figure out how to just get out of bed and LIVE.  And I have done that.  He thinks I should give lessons, lol.  Can you see it now  "Marie Anders Presents HOW TO BE CHRONICALLY ILL, ON WEDNESDAYS."  He was holding a yucky mold in my mouth, preventing me from speaking back to him, so I couldn't tell him that this level of coping is 13 years in and a LOT of therapy to get me to be who I am, who I am supposed to be.  But, maybe it was better for me to not be able to respond, because all I could do was take in the praise and do a grunty "fank-oo".  We talked about pain relief for me when I have some later today, now, in fact, and how the dental journals have studied and shown that the top pain-relief combo is two extra strength Tylenol and one Advil.  That specific combo, taken together, every 4 to 6 hours was able to relieve something like 15 times more pain than something narcotic, like Tylenol 3.  It performed above opioids every time.  The Advil part works locally on the nerves at the spot of injury and inflammation.  The Tylenol part works in the brain, on the central nervous system.  He gave me a dose of them all upon leaving the office to take so I'd be set up for my afternoon.  And I was.  The bus drove me around Dallas for about 75 minutes, then I went straight to bed and slept.  It's now 6:30pm, and pain is not nearly as bad as it was a couple days ago.    He explained how you could take many doses of each before getting into the top dangerous level of dosages.  He explained how that's untrue of Aleve, and how you can only take a very small amount of it, and then it starts to cause liver problems.  Not so with the Advil and the Tylenol.  He advised I use the combo any time I am feeling a serious flare of pain that I want to try something additional to find relief for.  He said how much easier it is to use pills and to let others be responsible for not finding ways to help us, but, I am an example of how taking responsibility for myself, my health, my life, and being willing to do hard things for pain relief, like sitting in an alternating hot and cold shower spray, and wear a sleeping mask in the dentist chair so that 1) they can see what they are doing in my mouth, and 2) I don't have to get a headache from all the fluorescent light and direct light.  So, he told me all this while I was unable to look at him or speak back to him.  I had told him before of my progress with coming off of pharmaceuticals for my migraines and how pleased I was to do that.  I asked if he'd ever had a patient wear a sleep mask during a whole visit, and he said "a couple times".    So, it feels good to be seen as succeeding with my life, my situation.  There are many, many days when I feel on the other end of the success spectrum.  But it has been noted by a health professional.   And that counts for something.   Maybe I will give a lesson one day.  If I do, there will be Stevia Salted Lemonade and Gluten Free Brownies for snacks.  lol
I'm grateful today for being validated, and that my Mother had successful surgery.  Blessed to have access to health care and medicine.  Not sure where my fragile little body would be if I lived without access to care and medicine.

Have happy days!

Multiple Headaches and Multiple Horses

I love my naps.  When I wake from them, even if pain persists, I usually have a clear head for a bit.  That's what I've got now, which is why I have made some thinking connections to share.    First, understand that I would wipe out all migraines from all people if I had the opportunity.  No question.  I might even try to figure out how to control them to use them for torture of our "enemies", lol.  I use an app to track and record mine called Migraine Buddy.  I have one now, by the way.  Woke up from the nap with it, which is unfair, I should point out.  But here is what makes me feel better.  On the app, I can see 146 other people in my town use it, and I can go to a chat room where there is almost always someone else with a migraine.  Not that I want others to have one, but knowing that the problem is truly a result of weather, and that others have the same physical response to it, helps me to endure it.  The load feels not lighter, but maybe more carry-able.  So, there's that.

My second nugget is this, and it's not at all helpful, but when I heard it, I thought so much that if I had wishes, I might be in danger of using one for multiple horses.  I am listening to an audiobook called NPCs which is written from the point of view of a group of unlikely video game characters who find themselves in the position of important adventurers.  As I was doing the dishes just now, the sentence said that the "threat of danger so present that it needed a horse of its own."  That is how I feel about my pain.  I need one horse for myself, to journey through life on, and I need one additional horse just to haul around my pain.  My body and my pain are too much for one horse.  And, my pain is too much to just drag around being pulled by the horse who carries me.  I need an additional horse just for it.  My pain, so present in my life that "it needs a horse of its own".  I think I will name pain's horse Anita.  Not sure why, it just seems to fit.

OK.  Those are my life altering thoughts for this evening.  Glad others have migraines.  Need 2 horses, minimum.  Grateful for my sanity, lol.
Have happy days!!
M