I keep trying to remind myself not to judge other people. It's not my job, I don't want that job, I don't need that job. I was trying to assert my 43 year old independence by embarking on my grocery rounds ... solo. Hey, it's summer ... it's possible!! Yesterday morning I went through all of my coupons and the grocery store fliers from Sunday's newspaper. I made my shopping lists for 4 different stores, paperclipped the appropriate coupons to the corresponding list, and ventured out into the great wide open!! (Let me just say that we ... my region of Colorado ... finally got a little bit of rain yesterday. Storm fronts moved in and out, the wind blew and the rain came down sideways. There was no way in hell that I was going to complain about it though. We desperately need the moisture in order to help the firefighters fight the war against all of the forest fires that are apocalyptically destroying our state at the moment. But the weather does figure into my story.)
First stop: Target. In an attempt to be smart about it all, I used my "preferred parking placard" and parked in a handicap parking space to save my legs that were still recovering from the dueling banjo episode. Toilet paper, charcoal, and lighter fluid (yes, coupons for all of it!). Knowing that it's my right hand that usually gives me fits when it's overworked, I hefted and toted the large bag of briquets with my left hand/arm. Granted, the weight exceeded 10 lbs (my max lifting restriction), but I needed to do it. I had to remind myself that, on occasion, I am capable of great feats. (I am especially proud of myself when the Munchkins are around!! - 3 more days!!) I pick them up, I hold them, I carry them, and my restrictions might as well not even exist!!) Yes, I used a cart!! I'm not coordinated enough to balance a 12 pack mega roll of TP, a 20 lb bag of charcoal and a bottle of lighter fluid. I was so elated at myself that when I left the store, I treated myself to a frozen coffee drink ... well that and I knew I needed to re-up my caffeine levels. SUCCESS!! (cue blowing wind and few rain drops)
Second Stop: King Soopers. There are about 3 of them in my city but since I was already in the south end of town, I went to the one that is only a block away from Target. Again, using my "preferred parking placard" I embarked on my journey through the store. Fruit, sack o'potatoes, yogurt, milk, four 12-packs of pop (soda, if you're from the east coast, coke if you're from the south), cereal, tuna, bread, snacky-snacks, eggs, and Jiffy Pop ... all with coupons!! I hauled the gallon of milk out of the cooler with my left hand (still trying to stay smart about everything), and I grabbed all four 12-packs with my left hand as well. The store was packed with shoppers. My anxiety about getting bumped, nudged, ran into, and elbowed was starting to rise but I made it to the checkout line just before my left hand went into a dystonic seizure. It completely closed up on itself and started trembling uncontrollably ... and it was quite noticeable. ("Ok, Jenn, just get through the line, get out to the car and get home ... you can make it!!) As I was fumbling with my purse to retrieve my wallet for the coupons and credit card, this male hominid running the cash register says to me, "chop chop!" Maybe he was having a bad day. Maybe his wife had just left him (for obvious reasons to me) or maybe he got called in on his day off. Who knows! So I smiled and told him that I was doing my best under the circumstances. (Let it goooooo Jennifer Lynn, just let it goooooo!!) Boy Bagger bagged my 29 items for me but did not offer to help me out to my car. Knowing I had already exceeded my physical limitations, I humbled myself and asked him for his help. He looked passed me to the line of carts and people and promptly told me that there were too many people in line for him to leave. I couldn't come up with any "maybes" for this douchebag. Single-handedly, literally, i maneuvered the cart full of my purchases through the maze of other carts, chatty Cathys, and the line that was forming out of the bank (banks in the front of supermarkets are something else I don't get, but I digress), and as I finally exited the store I was greeted with nasty wind gusts and sideways rain. Strike 3!! Somehow, I think it was sheer will and determination, I got to my car and loaded the groceries into the backseat. As I was about to push the cart over to the cart return area, another employee was wheeling a chain of carts back into the store and offered to take mine from me. (Now that kid, I liked!!)
Driving home amid rain, wind and tears, I made my few phone calls to try to round up help with unloading my car at my house. No answer, no answer, busy signal, no answer. <sigh> (This is why I have such a hard time asking for help, because when I need it the most, it's usually not available. It's less heartbreaking to just do it myself and deal with the physical consequences later.)
Needless to say, today I will be enduring pool therapy to relax my muscles and increase my range of motion. My left hand finally released about 20 minutes after I took my breakthrough meds yesterday. I have faith that the Kroger/City Market Complaint Department will get my email today and do absolutely nothing about it. I have faith that the one person that I can always count on is me since I have no way of being able to plan an episode/attack around everyone else's schedule. I have faith that, as always, I will take care of my own ish through PT so that I can complete my shopping expedition with 2 stores to go. I may be an RSDer, but I am also a very very very stubborn woman ... hear me roar!!!
Raising Awareness for RSD (and Ziggi's)
The Power of Orange
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Holy Heatwave Batman ... or ... Dueling Banjos
Yes, it's another Rocky and Bullwinkle title today because this is Day 5 of our 100+ temperatures in good ol' fiery Colorado. It's kind of a "damned if you do, damned if you don't" scenario at my house. I love the heat, albeit a little excessive, and the low humidity has really helped with the pain ... well, until this last Sunday that is. I'm ok with running my little window a/c unit for 3-4 hours a day during the most brutal hours of the day, but having to turn it on by 9 in the morning and running it all day long and into the night is not only cutting into my pocketbook with an astronomical electric bill, but it has also orchestrated dueling banjos in my legs.
At 8 p.m. last night it was 91* outside, 80* in my house (with the a/c on) and I had a blanket over my legs. I wasn't even in direct line of the a/c vent. The nerves in my legs felt like they had severed from each other and were flopping around like a juiced up downed electrical power-lines with the way the were zapping my muscles and skin and other nerves and my bones and my tendons and whatever else was in their way. Fortunately I haven't lost my leg strength, but whatever this dance is that I do when the electrical jolts make contact must be hysterical!! (Houdini thinks it's funny anyway ... and I can't blame him for it.) This is why I don't stay in central air locations for very long this time of year. ie: department stores, grocery stores, the Bombshell's house, Ziggi's, in the car with Mom or Dad ... you get my drift. I know what cold air does to my body so I have to have "cool-ish" air in order to withstand the heat. Even on Energy Saver, because of the insane temp outside, my a/c is running non-stop just to stay on/near 78*. But what can I do about it?? Not a gosh darn thing!! If I turn my a/c off, it'll be 100+ in my house in less than hour and I'll have to go outside to cool off. Besides, I wouldn't do that to Kiva who has to wear her thick mohair sweater 24/7/365. I did get her skirted tho and I can tell that it helps. Instead of her crazy sleeping positions, she's been stretched out, belly down.
In all honesty, there is nothing that I, nor anyone else, can do about the dueling banjos. Meds are worthless for it, there is no salve or cream that can stop it, and i refuse to turn off the a/c. So I must deal with it. Period. Scantily clad with a light throw blanket over my legs, iced coffee in hand, and keen wit on the tip of my tongue are my tools for this battle. Fighting RSD is neverending. There are only bad days, better days, good days, and days when all I can say is "WTF"!!! (sorry Mom, but you've witnessed it!!) The last 3 days have been a combo of Better and WTF!! Seriously though, if I wasn't already crazy, these dueling banjo moments would send me over the edge and directly into the care of the Psych Ward ... complete with central air!!!
So I will continue to go on, as always. I have faith that these Colorado temps will ease later in the week. I have faith that I will continue to seek solace out of the direct line of a/c vents. I have faith that, although this will force me into a form of solitude, I will have company. Whether it's Houdini or my Mom or a friend stopping by to help keep my brain occupied and distracted for a bit, I will have company to amuse with my antics. This too shall pass ... and when it does, look out!!!! The Crazy Cripple will, once again, wreak havoc in Longmont!!! BWAHAHAHAHA
At 8 p.m. last night it was 91* outside, 80* in my house (with the a/c on) and I had a blanket over my legs. I wasn't even in direct line of the a/c vent. The nerves in my legs felt like they had severed from each other and were flopping around like a juiced up downed electrical power-lines with the way the were zapping my muscles and skin and other nerves and my bones and my tendons and whatever else was in their way. Fortunately I haven't lost my leg strength, but whatever this dance is that I do when the electrical jolts make contact must be hysterical!! (Houdini thinks it's funny anyway ... and I can't blame him for it.) This is why I don't stay in central air locations for very long this time of year. ie: department stores, grocery stores, the Bombshell's house, Ziggi's, in the car with Mom or Dad ... you get my drift. I know what cold air does to my body so I have to have "cool-ish" air in order to withstand the heat. Even on Energy Saver, because of the insane temp outside, my a/c is running non-stop just to stay on/near 78*. But what can I do about it?? Not a gosh darn thing!! If I turn my a/c off, it'll be 100+ in my house in less than hour and I'll have to go outside to cool off. Besides, I wouldn't do that to Kiva who has to wear her thick mohair sweater 24/7/365. I did get her skirted tho and I can tell that it helps. Instead of her crazy sleeping positions, she's been stretched out, belly down.
In all honesty, there is nothing that I, nor anyone else, can do about the dueling banjos. Meds are worthless for it, there is no salve or cream that can stop it, and i refuse to turn off the a/c. So I must deal with it. Period. Scantily clad with a light throw blanket over my legs, iced coffee in hand, and keen wit on the tip of my tongue are my tools for this battle. Fighting RSD is neverending. There are only bad days, better days, good days, and days when all I can say is "WTF"!!! (sorry Mom, but you've witnessed it!!) The last 3 days have been a combo of Better and WTF!! Seriously though, if I wasn't already crazy, these dueling banjo moments would send me over the edge and directly into the care of the Psych Ward ... complete with central air!!!
So I will continue to go on, as always. I have faith that these Colorado temps will ease later in the week. I have faith that I will continue to seek solace out of the direct line of a/c vents. I have faith that, although this will force me into a form of solitude, I will have company. Whether it's Houdini or my Mom or a friend stopping by to help keep my brain occupied and distracted for a bit, I will have company to amuse with my antics. This too shall pass ... and when it does, look out!!!! The Crazy Cripple will, once again, wreak havoc in Longmont!!! BWAHAHAHAHA
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
But ... But ... But ...
Hi ho! Kiva the Dog here. And my Mommie is mean!! She kept me cooped up in the house all day yesterday! She feels great and we didn't do anything, not a gosh darn thing!! She didn't take me with her for a car ride, she didn't take me for a walk, we didn't get to play marathon ball, nothin!! She kept saying something about it being too hot for me to be outside for too long. She did break out my extra large water bowl, though. That's always fun! But after I decided to bathe one of my tennis balls in it, she went back to my regular sized bowls. I don't know why she doesn't like it when i put water from my bowl all over the floor, the walls, the carpet, and the fridge, but she doesn't.
She told me that I couldn't go for a ride because she would have to leave me in the car. I don't see the problem here. I always wait in the car for her! I perch right on top of the center console and I wait patiently. Some times I sit in the driver's seat, but I can barely see over the steering wheel, so I opt for higher ground. But she still said "no." Something about a fried brain with burnt eyeballs and matted fur just doesn't sit well with my Mommie. She wouldn't take me for a walk because the sidewalk was burning her bare, human feet and she thought my poor puppy paws would suffer. She may have been right. We couldn't play ball because, well, it was just too darn hot!! 104* hot!!!
But you know what? We stayed comfortable at the Chalet! The curtains were drawn, the bedroom and bathroom doors stayed closed, and Mommie's little window cold box was set to 74 and on something called "energy saver". Mommie settled into her big, brown, comfy chair that was nestled in between the cold box and the whirly thingy on the ceiling and finished the book that she started on Saturday. I kinda like it when she reads. She always in the perfect position to give me head and neck scratches, and when I whine a little I get hugs.
Last night Mommie went to get the next book in her series and she was gone way longer than she promised. Come to find out that she went up to the Barnes&Nobel at the outlet mall in Loveland only to be told that they were out of stock. But the good news was that the Boulder store had one ... so she was off to Boulder. Today we get to sit in the coolness again while Mommie gets all comfy and reads ... and reads ... and reads ... and then Uncle Houdini will come over this afternoon to escape the sweltering heat of The Ranch and they'll read ... and read ... and read ... no, you definitely can't tell that these 2 are related. (That was my canine attempt at sarcasm. Did it work?)
I have faith that this heat will not bother my Mommie. It's not humid, it's not windy, there's not a blizzard, nothing that can spark an RSD flare ... yep, she's good! I saw some piles of clothes earlier before Mommie shut the bedroom door so I guess I have faith that she'll have clean laundry by the end of the day. The question remains: Will she fold and hang and put the clothes away, or will she leave them all wrinkly in a basket. Your guess is as good as mine today!!
She told me that I couldn't go for a ride because she would have to leave me in the car. I don't see the problem here. I always wait in the car for her! I perch right on top of the center console and I wait patiently. Some times I sit in the driver's seat, but I can barely see over the steering wheel, so I opt for higher ground. But she still said "no." Something about a fried brain with burnt eyeballs and matted fur just doesn't sit well with my Mommie. She wouldn't take me for a walk because the sidewalk was burning her bare, human feet and she thought my poor puppy paws would suffer. She may have been right. We couldn't play ball because, well, it was just too darn hot!! 104* hot!!!
But you know what? We stayed comfortable at the Chalet! The curtains were drawn, the bedroom and bathroom doors stayed closed, and Mommie's little window cold box was set to 74 and on something called "energy saver". Mommie settled into her big, brown, comfy chair that was nestled in between the cold box and the whirly thingy on the ceiling and finished the book that she started on Saturday. I kinda like it when she reads. She always in the perfect position to give me head and neck scratches, and when I whine a little I get hugs.
Last night Mommie went to get the next book in her series and she was gone way longer than she promised. Come to find out that she went up to the Barnes&Nobel at the outlet mall in Loveland only to be told that they were out of stock. But the good news was that the Boulder store had one ... so she was off to Boulder. Today we get to sit in the coolness again while Mommie gets all comfy and reads ... and reads ... and reads ... and then Uncle Houdini will come over this afternoon to escape the sweltering heat of The Ranch and they'll read ... and read ... and read ... no, you definitely can't tell that these 2 are related. (That was my canine attempt at sarcasm. Did it work?)
I have faith that this heat will not bother my Mommie. It's not humid, it's not windy, there's not a blizzard, nothing that can spark an RSD flare ... yep, she's good! I saw some piles of clothes earlier before Mommie shut the bedroom door so I guess I have faith that she'll have clean laundry by the end of the day. The question remains: Will she fold and hang and put the clothes away, or will she leave them all wrinkly in a basket. Your guess is as good as mine today!!
Monday, June 18, 2012
I'm Baaaaaack!!!
What a great weekend!! Reaching the luminous end of the dark tunnel of the funk, a night out with some of my favorites, a celebration of Dad's Day, less temperamental weather, and a good book ... um ... series. This may sound trivial to some, but to an RSDer, escaping the grips of depression is an endless battle. We have to have the will to get ourselves away from the despair before we can fight it's grips ... and that takes every spoon in our arsenal. It's tiring, to say the least, but the relief that I feel right now, almost makes last week a distant memory!
The last tell-tale sign of the passing of the funk was my ability to pick up a book and become submerged in it. After having had this pointed out to me by my Dad because of course I was oblivious at the time, the 2nd week in June, as spring ends and summer begins, I get all wonky. Every year since my divorce. (probably because our anniversary was the 14th but that's pure speculation on my part because I don't miss anything about being married to him. I don't hate him, but I don't miss him either.) Anyway, I get wonky until I dive into a novel. The 1st summer it was the Harry Potter series. All 7 books in 2 months. The year after that it was the Twilight series. 3 books in 2 months and waiting impatiently for #4 to be released. I finished that one in 3 days. Last summer I began reading the Mortal Instruments series by Cassandra Clare. 3 books in less than 2 months. This year, Ms Clare has graciously provided the literary world with a 2nd part to the series. I have put off starting this series because a) the third in the trilogy doesn't come out until November, and b) I know that I will get lost between the pages until I've finished it. I cannot seem to want to books down, especially when I get to the parts where characters from the prequels make their appearances. (Magnus Bane ... yeah baby!! I mean really, who doesn't love a hunky, sarcastic warlock, right?) I started the book Saturday afternoon and I am already over halfway through it. At this rate I should finish it by tomorrow at the latest.
Here's the kicker ... my pain is back down, my anxiety is stuffed back into far corners of my brain, and my imagination is back. I can think into the future again. I can make plans. Shoot, I even told the Bombshell that I would babysit solo for the Munchkins on the 4th of July!! And I'm also starting to plan for what I affectionately refer to as Woodstock of the Front Range ... complete with camping!! Hopefully I'll be up to that challenge by then!! But ... the funk is over!!!
I have faith that life has returned to my world. I have faith that, through reading, I can reignite my passion for writing and might actually get something finished this year. I have faith that I will still have a bad day every now and then but the transition into summer has officially begun!! See?? Give me just a little time to get through whatever it is that I need to get through and the real me comes back out to play!! ... ok, I'm done now. Time to get back to my book!!
The last tell-tale sign of the passing of the funk was my ability to pick up a book and become submerged in it. After having had this pointed out to me by my Dad because of course I was oblivious at the time, the 2nd week in June, as spring ends and summer begins, I get all wonky. Every year since my divorce. (probably because our anniversary was the 14th but that's pure speculation on my part because I don't miss anything about being married to him. I don't hate him, but I don't miss him either.) Anyway, I get wonky until I dive into a novel. The 1st summer it was the Harry Potter series. All 7 books in 2 months. The year after that it was the Twilight series. 3 books in 2 months and waiting impatiently for #4 to be released. I finished that one in 3 days. Last summer I began reading the Mortal Instruments series by Cassandra Clare. 3 books in less than 2 months. This year, Ms Clare has graciously provided the literary world with a 2nd part to the series. I have put off starting this series because a) the third in the trilogy doesn't come out until November, and b) I know that I will get lost between the pages until I've finished it. I cannot seem to want to books down, especially when I get to the parts where characters from the prequels make their appearances. (Magnus Bane ... yeah baby!! I mean really, who doesn't love a hunky, sarcastic warlock, right?) I started the book Saturday afternoon and I am already over halfway through it. At this rate I should finish it by tomorrow at the latest.
Here's the kicker ... my pain is back down, my anxiety is stuffed back into far corners of my brain, and my imagination is back. I can think into the future again. I can make plans. Shoot, I even told the Bombshell that I would babysit solo for the Munchkins on the 4th of July!! And I'm also starting to plan for what I affectionately refer to as Woodstock of the Front Range ... complete with camping!! Hopefully I'll be up to that challenge by then!! But ... the funk is over!!!
I have faith that life has returned to my world. I have faith that, through reading, I can reignite my passion for writing and might actually get something finished this year. I have faith that I will still have a bad day every now and then but the transition into summer has officially begun!! See?? Give me just a little time to get through whatever it is that I need to get through and the real me comes back out to play!! ... ok, I'm done now. Time to get back to my book!!
Friday, June 15, 2012
Breaking Out the Boa
Finally!! I am back to feeling quasi-human again!! Even after a rough night and even with a storm front moving in, my mood is back to where it should be ... happy!! Is it because I have something to look forward to tonight? Maybe. Is it because my body is passed the sluggish flu-like symptoms that always follow a bout of depression? Possibly. Is it because Kiva turns uber-cuddly when I'm down? Almost certainly. Is it because I allowed myself to be depressed for a day or 2 and then pulled myself up by my proverbial bootstraps, allowed myself some time to heal, and fought back? Absofreakinlutely!!
It is so difficult to explain to the Normies that I really am "ok" even when I'm depressed. I'm not suicidal at all, I'm not a risk to myself or others, I'm just in a funk ... or I was in a funk ... because now I'm not. Normies, no matter how well they are acclimated to all of the ups and downs of RSD, always want to push and fight for us to get us thru the doldrums faster than we are prepared to get thru them ourselves. I know my body better than any other human on the planet. I know what it takes for me to get over each individual hurdle that arises in my life. Granted, I am always open to suggestions for new "tricks" but time is key for my healing proclivities.
Enter the orange boa. This slinky, feathery feature made it's debut at the Debacle of 2011 but became a clothing staple none-the-less. Orange is the awareness ribbon color for RSD. And I have made orange my own personal fashion statement. In all of my efforts to raise awareness for RSD, nothing has spawned as much curiosity from the masses as the orange boa. I mean really, how hard is it to not notice the tall, skinny broad wearing a freakin' orange boa?!?! ;) I don't do this to gain attention for myself, I do it to gain attention for RSD. RSD is something that I have to pay attention to 24/7, it never lets me forget, even for a second. Until those initials ring between the ears of everyone with whom I come in contact, I will continue to wear it.
Some days I wish I wasn't such a good actress. Some days I'm grateful for my many masks. I would be lying if I said that I wasn't apprehensive about tonight. Large crowds, loud rock music, drunk people in wobbly clodhopper shoes, overly intoxicated men that feel the need to profess their love for the female species through molesting hugs, waitresses and bartenders running their asses off for booze but can't keep a cup of coffee full and hot for the designated driver of their returning customers ... in a nutshell, anxiety! But what's worse, facing my physical fears and pains or staying home and wishing for a better life? Granted, I will surely have to pay for it all tomorrow, but one night out of my 4 walls and with my friends is totally worth it.
I have faith that I will bring the letters R-S-D into the life of some poor unsuspecting soul by wearing my orange boa tonight. I have faith that, even though my anxiety level is sky high (and not in a good way) I will suck it up and go have fun with most of my favorite people. I have faith that I will dance to at least 1 song, shake the hand of at least 1 Bronco alum, and have 1 hell of a night!! Pain be damned, I love myself too much to let a repeat of this last week happen. My bootstraps are up. Let's get this par-tay star-ted!!
It is so difficult to explain to the Normies that I really am "ok" even when I'm depressed. I'm not suicidal at all, I'm not a risk to myself or others, I'm just in a funk ... or I was in a funk ... because now I'm not. Normies, no matter how well they are acclimated to all of the ups and downs of RSD, always want to push and fight for us to get us thru the doldrums faster than we are prepared to get thru them ourselves. I know my body better than any other human on the planet. I know what it takes for me to get over each individual hurdle that arises in my life. Granted, I am always open to suggestions for new "tricks" but time is key for my healing proclivities.
Enter the orange boa. This slinky, feathery feature made it's debut at the Debacle of 2011 but became a clothing staple none-the-less. Orange is the awareness ribbon color for RSD. And I have made orange my own personal fashion statement. In all of my efforts to raise awareness for RSD, nothing has spawned as much curiosity from the masses as the orange boa. I mean really, how hard is it to not notice the tall, skinny broad wearing a freakin' orange boa?!?! ;) I don't do this to gain attention for myself, I do it to gain attention for RSD. RSD is something that I have to pay attention to 24/7, it never lets me forget, even for a second. Until those initials ring between the ears of everyone with whom I come in contact, I will continue to wear it.
Some days I wish I wasn't such a good actress. Some days I'm grateful for my many masks. I would be lying if I said that I wasn't apprehensive about tonight. Large crowds, loud rock music, drunk people in wobbly clodhopper shoes, overly intoxicated men that feel the need to profess their love for the female species through molesting hugs, waitresses and bartenders running their asses off for booze but can't keep a cup of coffee full and hot for the designated driver of their returning customers ... in a nutshell, anxiety! But what's worse, facing my physical fears and pains or staying home and wishing for a better life? Granted, I will surely have to pay for it all tomorrow, but one night out of my 4 walls and with my friends is totally worth it.
I have faith that I will bring the letters R-S-D into the life of some poor unsuspecting soul by wearing my orange boa tonight. I have faith that, even though my anxiety level is sky high (and not in a good way) I will suck it up and go have fun with most of my favorite people. I have faith that I will dance to at least 1 song, shake the hand of at least 1 Bronco alum, and have 1 hell of a night!! Pain be damned, I love myself too much to let a repeat of this last week happen. My bootstraps are up. Let's get this par-tay star-ted!!
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Duck Fepression!! (sorry Mom)
I absolutely hate it when the depression wins!! It makes me a sore loser ... pun intended! I knew that something was up yesterday morning when I actually got to sleep in ... until 6:30. For all intents and purposes, it's summer. Windows open at night, ceiling fans and window fans cooling the air in the hopes of saving a few bucks by not running my little window a/c unit. There has been a wildfire burning about 40 miles from my house (as the crow flies) and our entire town was engulfed in a smokey haze yesterday morning. Everything smelled like a campfire, the mountains were completely hidden behind a shroud of smoke, and I'm pretty sure that the air quality was teetering on the brink of "Horrid." Add in RSD and a bout of spontaneous depression and my whole world got turned on it's ear.
I spent years on antidepressants. I've run the gamut with Zoloft, Amitriptyline, Paxil, Prozac, and Cymbalta, just to name a few. When I finally accepted the pain and the RSD as my way of life, I was able to turn my back on the pills and their side effects. (...here come the analogies...) I keep a pretty firm grasp on my ups and downs, but every now and then the pain becomes the ocean, my body becomes the levy and my depression becomes the hurricane that sends it all crashing down. I can't stop it from happening any more than a human can stop an actual hurricane, but I can add emotional sand bags to stave it off for a while ... usually.
When my depression turns abbynormal (Category 3+) , I have tactical maneuvers that usually snap me out of it enough to still be able to function. I force myself to get out of bed. Even if I only make it to the couch, I am out of bed! I look at that as an accomplishment, because, hey, I really didn't have to, did I? I try to get out of the house, even if it's for 5 minutes. Sometimes just a change of scenery can alter my outlook enough to battle the depression. And I try to do 1 fun thing in order to get myself to smile a smile that's not a forced smile, but natural smile. So yesterday, after I got up I went outside and got all of my plants watered ... 2 accomplishments right there!! My dad called at 8. He was off to a slow start too and wanted to meet for coffee ... so I waited for Houdini to come get me and we headed to the Wonderful World of Ziggi's. That was my outing and my attempt at "1 fun thing". But as soon as I got home the blah's took over and ruled my world once again and when I reached into my emergency spoon supply to "maybe" get a couple other things accomplished, I was like Mother Hubbard with a bare cupboard. I had no back up spoon, no extra little umph, nothing!
Most Normies would say, "Just suck it up. It'll be better tomorrow." But that is just not the case when you're battling a chronic pain condition like RSD as well as spontaneous depression. It's "tomorrow" and my body feels like it's been hit by a Mac Truck. My mood seems to be a lot better this morning, but my body is cashing the check that my emotions wrote and there are insufficient funds. You know how I keep telling you that happiness is the most effective pain killer? Well ... when the cookie jar is empty (aka - depleted happiness levels), there is nothing natural to fight the pain ... enter pharmaceuticals, stage left. I do have 1 thing in my favor when combating the quicksand depression. Ketamine. Not only is K used as a pain med for RSDers, but they are also doing studies that suggest that K also aids in the fight against depression. What they don't take into consideration is that I hate Ketamine! Yes, it helps my body better than anything else I've tried, but the wah-wah's absofreakinglutely suck! That's why I only use it at night. That way I can fall asleep before they set in. Having to use it during the day is just not an option for me. I refuse to drive, operate any kind of machinery (including Bertha), make critical decisions, or pay attention when I'm on the crap. I let it do it's job without interference.
I have no idea where I'm going with all of this other than to tell you that depression physically hurts. I guess I can count myself as "fortunate" because it didn't start a flare this time, but it did increase my pain level beyond what I was prepared to handle. I submerged myself into games. iPhone games, Facebook games, GameHouse games, whatever I could find that would keep me focused on something other than the depression and the pain. And it must have worked because today my mood is elevated again!! Now if my body would only follow suit. Normies can shake off a bad day of depression and proceed to move forward. RSDers need 1-3 days to physically recover from a bad day ... depending on the severity of the day.
I have faith that, once again, I am back on the upswing! I have faith that it will take me a day or 2 to fully recover from nothing more than doldrums. It's just one more thing to which I've become accustom in my decades-long fight against the beast. It's survivable and I'm a survivor!! Period!!
I spent years on antidepressants. I've run the gamut with Zoloft, Amitriptyline, Paxil, Prozac, and Cymbalta, just to name a few. When I finally accepted the pain and the RSD as my way of life, I was able to turn my back on the pills and their side effects. (...here come the analogies...) I keep a pretty firm grasp on my ups and downs, but every now and then the pain becomes the ocean, my body becomes the levy and my depression becomes the hurricane that sends it all crashing down. I can't stop it from happening any more than a human can stop an actual hurricane, but I can add emotional sand bags to stave it off for a while ... usually.
When my depression turns abbynormal (Category 3+) , I have tactical maneuvers that usually snap me out of it enough to still be able to function. I force myself to get out of bed. Even if I only make it to the couch, I am out of bed! I look at that as an accomplishment, because, hey, I really didn't have to, did I? I try to get out of the house, even if it's for 5 minutes. Sometimes just a change of scenery can alter my outlook enough to battle the depression. And I try to do 1 fun thing in order to get myself to smile a smile that's not a forced smile, but natural smile. So yesterday, after I got up I went outside and got all of my plants watered ... 2 accomplishments right there!! My dad called at 8. He was off to a slow start too and wanted to meet for coffee ... so I waited for Houdini to come get me and we headed to the Wonderful World of Ziggi's. That was my outing and my attempt at "1 fun thing". But as soon as I got home the blah's took over and ruled my world once again and when I reached into my emergency spoon supply to "maybe" get a couple other things accomplished, I was like Mother Hubbard with a bare cupboard. I had no back up spoon, no extra little umph, nothing!
Most Normies would say, "Just suck it up. It'll be better tomorrow." But that is just not the case when you're battling a chronic pain condition like RSD as well as spontaneous depression. It's "tomorrow" and my body feels like it's been hit by a Mac Truck. My mood seems to be a lot better this morning, but my body is cashing the check that my emotions wrote and there are insufficient funds. You know how I keep telling you that happiness is the most effective pain killer? Well ... when the cookie jar is empty (aka - depleted happiness levels), there is nothing natural to fight the pain ... enter pharmaceuticals, stage left. I do have 1 thing in my favor when combating the quicksand depression. Ketamine. Not only is K used as a pain med for RSDers, but they are also doing studies that suggest that K also aids in the fight against depression. What they don't take into consideration is that I hate Ketamine! Yes, it helps my body better than anything else I've tried, but the wah-wah's absofreakinglutely suck! That's why I only use it at night. That way I can fall asleep before they set in. Having to use it during the day is just not an option for me. I refuse to drive, operate any kind of machinery (including Bertha), make critical decisions, or pay attention when I'm on the crap. I let it do it's job without interference.
I have no idea where I'm going with all of this other than to tell you that depression physically hurts. I guess I can count myself as "fortunate" because it didn't start a flare this time, but it did increase my pain level beyond what I was prepared to handle. I submerged myself into games. iPhone games, Facebook games, GameHouse games, whatever I could find that would keep me focused on something other than the depression and the pain. And it must have worked because today my mood is elevated again!! Now if my body would only follow suit. Normies can shake off a bad day of depression and proceed to move forward. RSDers need 1-3 days to physically recover from a bad day ... depending on the severity of the day.
I have faith that, once again, I am back on the upswing! I have faith that it will take me a day or 2 to fully recover from nothing more than doldrums. It's just one more thing to which I've become accustom in my decades-long fight against the beast. It's survivable and I'm a survivor!! Period!!
Monday, June 11, 2012
The Unanswerable Questions
Every RSDer, worldwide, has uttered the questions, "Why me?" "Why does it have to hurt so bad?" "Is it ever going to get any better?" These are just a few most daunting questions that cross our brains fifty hundred thousand quadrillion times a day. There are no answers to these questions because we, the peons, aren't privy to them until after we have passed into the afterlife.
But I have a theory. I know, you're shocked, right? HA!! It's the strongest willed people that are bestowed with RSD because we can appreciate the true meaning behind the phrase "survival of the fittest." Apparently we are not challenged enough by life, so we are given an extra task. Some people let the RSD rule their lives because they are convinced that they are not up to the challenge. Some people turn a negative into a positive so that they do not feel defeated all of the time. RSD is not for the weak of heart, although it does make for weaker bodies. It takes a true warrior to fight through the day to day pains and trials that RSD offers. It does not mean that those of us that choose to fight are any better than those who don't, it just means that we have a stronger will to fight. We let go of a little bit of sanity in order to gain some minute amount of freedom and independence. Knowing that our battles will never really be won until there is a cure, we continue to wage war against the pain. Whether it's by turning physical therapy into something fun-ish, or finding another outlet for our creative minds, or making light of the darkest times, we rage onward.
I have stopped asking, "Why me?" It's futile. All it does is make me more upset which leads to panic attacks and added pain. I have stopped my family from asking, "Why her?" because their words ring in my head which leads to more panic attacks and more pain. It's painful enough to experience RSD without having to be the shoulders that bear the weight of their doubts. My family knows that if I have a bad day, there will be a good one not too far in the future. They know that their "job" is to get me to focus on the good-day-to-come and get me looking forward to something. It is so much easier to fight when you have support that leads your mind away from the pain. Case in point, last week the onslaught of storms and fronts that passed through Colorado had me flat on my back and down in the dumps. Until I got a message from the Bombshell asking me what "fun" things we could do with the Munchkins when they come "home" for July. Now that got me thinking and planning and researching and off of the heating pad and the couch. It gave me something positive on which to focus my seemingly unfocusable brain. (hey, it's a jennism!)
I have faith that I will continue to focus on something positive even during my worst days. I have faith that my family will continue to help me fight by helping me find things to which i can look forward instead of dwelling on the daunting questions. My will is strong when my mind stays focused. I will continue to redirect my thinking until I can quash the unanswerable questions.
Friday, June 8, 2012
Surviving the Skank
Hi Ho! Kiva the Dog here. My Mommie's kinda wonky this morning so I told her that I would help with the blog again. The Skank (Mother Nature) is having her way with my Mommie again. Her comment yesterday was, "At least it's not cold a snowy this time." I wish there were an easier way for her to explain how nasty the weather is to her body, but the are no exact words for me to define this cacophony of pain that RSD has wrought on her body. It's the wind. The nasty, brutal, soul-sucking, body-damning wind that really did a number on her last night ... again. At 5:00 this morning I thought that I woke her up with kisses, whines, and a paw to the cheek and forehead, but she was just playin' possum with me. We cuddled for a little bit and then she trebuchet'd herself out of bed, grabbed her robe that was hanging on the bedroom door and did the Frankenstein Crawl to the living room. She turned on the news, unlocked the front door, opened it, and her jaw dropped as cuss words gushed out of her mouth. The wind had smashed 2 of her flower pots and deposited a lovely tree limb on top of her car. Unfortunately, no damage was done to the buttmobile so there will be no test driving of new-to-us vehicles in our near future ... dangit!!
Mommie just came in from watering the gardens and the remaining flower pots. She almost seems defeated, but I know my Mommie better than that! She takes a setback and turns it into something positive. She's good like that. Granted, it takes some time to get her passed the initial shock, she needs to vent a bit, but she always finds a way to benefit from a deficit. And I, Kiva the Wondermutt, am here to help! I need to keep her moving before the residual atrophy sets in. My plan: to go into the backyard and roll around in my own poo so that she has to give me a bath. It's not a brilliant plan, but it's a plan ... and I get a massage out of the deal. See how that works? heh heh
I'm sure that once she has properly caffeinated herself, she will clean up the mess that the Skank left on our doorstep and tend to the remaining plants that survived. She calls it "deadheading" ... I call it "taking the gross stuff off of the pretty stuff." She's got herbs to clip and dry, a dog to bathe, letters to write, a slideshow to publish, a patio to rearrange (again), sticks and twigs to pick up, a kitchen to clean, laundry to fold, and I'm sure she'll need me to help her manage her spoons. The good news is that she's still focused. She still has her mission and she's still working her non-existent butt off to achieve it.
I have faith that I'll get the stink washed off of me today. I have faith that my Mommie will walk over to Bertha to make her 2nd pot of coffee before 9 a.m. (it's 8:35 right now). I have faith that the patio will get it's needed attention as soon as Mommie stops gagging and gives me a bath. For an RSDer who claims to have "no life," she's got a pretty full dish!
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Motivated By A Broken Heart
I received some news yesterday that absolutely, positively broke my heart! Seeing as I didn't contract RSD until I was a young adult, I cannot even begin to imagine being a teen/pre-teen and having to navigate the public school system with this bat rastard of a disease plus the hormonal surges! It's bad enough that doctors, nurses, family members, friends, and the justice system have a hard time believing us and our pain, but imagine if it were your teachers and classmates that you had to convince! Now imagine being this child RSDer and you have just said "good-bye" to Elementary School and are now faced with the daunting task of Junior High School. New district, new school, new layout, new teachers, new kids, new administration ... and your family's early efforts at this establishment to promote awareness within the faculty falls on deaf ears. But you suck it up and join a summer program so that you have an early start to become familiar with the layout of the school, a chance to make new friends before school starts, and you're able to practice for your class placement tests. Imagine if the teacher that you have right before lunch (one of the non-believers) does not allow you to leave a few minutes early so that you can make your way down the stairs (or to the elevator) to the cafeteria and you end up being 10 minutes late after being a pinball in the hallways. And then there's "recess"! Since no one seems to give a buffalo's butt about how you're feeling, but you're still desperate to make new friends and show the dolts that you have RSD but RSD does not have you, you join in a volleyball game. One wrong move and your thumb is jammed, swollen, unmovable, and ignites a flare.
Grades 6-12 is the evilest of all of the age groups, I know this because this is the age group that is my favorite to coach. I'm masochistic that way. I have coached volleyball for the better part of 15 years. This is quite an achievement for an RSDer. I like coaching the younger teams because I get to pass on my love of the sport. I use my words, as opposed to my body, to convey drills, exercises, and skills. But what really gets me rev'd up is when I can pass along my passion and love for the game. I also get the chance to instill compassion and understanding for others as well as show them the logical explanations for their teenage drama.
Yesterday's events in my young friend's life have me focused, more than ever, on my abilities to raise awareness ... and I have a plan!!! A really really really good plan!! True change does not happen over night. It takes patience and perseverance, and after 21 years of fighting the beast, I can honestly say that I have both!! This is not carte blanche for anyone to test these traits, it is just a statement.
I have faith that I will use my abilities to communicate the needed awareness within the schools. I have faith that I've chosen the perfect time of year to get started instead of waiting until the last minute, which is usually my m.o. ... and it bites me in the oostakaka every single time. Look out world, here comes the Crazy Cripple and she has a plan!!
Grades 6-12 is the evilest of all of the age groups, I know this because this is the age group that is my favorite to coach. I'm masochistic that way. I have coached volleyball for the better part of 15 years. This is quite an achievement for an RSDer. I like coaching the younger teams because I get to pass on my love of the sport. I use my words, as opposed to my body, to convey drills, exercises, and skills. But what really gets me rev'd up is when I can pass along my passion and love for the game. I also get the chance to instill compassion and understanding for others as well as show them the logical explanations for their teenage drama.
Yesterday's events in my young friend's life have me focused, more than ever, on my abilities to raise awareness ... and I have a plan!!! A really really really good plan!! True change does not happen over night. It takes patience and perseverance, and after 21 years of fighting the beast, I can honestly say that I have both!! This is not carte blanche for anyone to test these traits, it is just a statement.
I have faith that I will use my abilities to communicate the needed awareness within the schools. I have faith that I've chosen the perfect time of year to get started instead of waiting until the last minute, which is usually my m.o. ... and it bites me in the oostakaka every single time. Look out world, here comes the Crazy Cripple and she has a plan!!
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Distractable Me!!
I was greeted this morning with a link to the Health Central website. The link was to an article published at the end of May about how "distractions" actually decrease the amount of pain signals that are sent from our spinal chords to our brains. Now ... those of us who suffer from chronic pain have known this for quite a while but we could only make educated guesses as to "why." Now we have PROOF!!! <insert Happy Butt Dance here> If you'd like to check it out for yourselves, the link is: http://www.healthcentral.com/chronic-pain/c/5949/153240/distraction?ap=2003
Why is so hard for Normies to understand why we RSDers live for distractions?? They are our calm amid the storm. It doesn't matter what they are, as long as we're distracted, we are less focused on the burning pain that courses through our bodies non-stop, 24/7/365. Ok Normies, let's try this on for size ... have you ever broken a bone, sprained a wrist or ankle, jammed a finger or toe, or been on the receiving end of a punch? Have you ever experienced 1st, 2nd, or 3rd degree burns (even sunburns)? How did that make you feel at the onset, do you remember? Did you hurt? Did you cry? Did you cuss? Did you go to the Emergency Room? Did it heal? Well ... combine all of those feelings and that's almost what it's like to live with chronic pain, without the "healing" part. We are never "ok." Even when we say that we are, we are still in a buttload of pain. It's relentless! Were you grateful when friends or family stopped by to check on you as you recovered? Did you get wrapped up in video games, movies, crossword puzzle books, Mad Libs? Did you regain a little color in your face as you visited or played? How did you pass the time while you were healing? Did you do everything that you could to take your mind off the pain ... aka "distraction"??? Now ... Imagine if the pain that you felt wasn't temporary!!
I have been chastised for always having my iPhone with me and for playing my silly games on it. I play Words With Friends, Scramble With Friends, Bingo, Angry Birds, Where's My Water, Casino Games, Dominoes, Solitaire, Backgammon, Skee Ball, and Family Feud as my distractions. But I also use it as physical therapy for my hands and thumbs as well as a distraction. I have been told by the docs that, because my RSD stemmed in my right thumb and hand, I have an added problem with mobility and localized seizures. But that's not the only reason that I try to keep it with me at all times. It is also my Life Alert connection as well! If I'm walking down my back steps to my patio and happen to fall, I have my phone to call for help instead of having to scream and hope 1 of my neighbors hears me, or having to crawl back into the house to find my phone to make the call. If I'm in the shower and I fall, yes it's happened before, my phone is on the edge of the sink, within reaching distance. It's next to my bed at night just in case I can't get out of bed in the morning and need help. I keep Netflix and HuluPlus on my iPhone in case I'm having such a bad day that I can't get to my living room to watch tv. (I have a tv and dvd player in my bedroom, but no cable/dish connection.) There is a method to my madness, there really truly is!!
So the next time one of you Normies sees one of us RSDers lost in techno-land, don't give us a hard time about it!! Don't make derogatory comments about our phones, laptops, iPads, or game consoles. That's you judging us!! And don't think that those comments fall on deaf ears. We hear you and we hear the contempt in your voice when you say it. Unless you know the pain that we live with, you don't know what it takes in order for us to not ball up into the fetal position and scream ... would you rather see/hear that??? Neither would we!!
I have faith that, once again, a few Normies might think that I'm hitting below the belt. Deal with it! You put us in the position to have to speak out about our need for distractions. If you care enough, you'll stick around to learn more about becoming a distraction for us yourself. If you don't really give a rats ass and are just going through the motions, you deserve to feel like shit right now!! (and I don't have to apologize for this one to my Mom ... I've actually heard her say this before in my defense!! God bless that woman!!) I have faith that eyes will be opened as to why we do what we do and more understanding and awareness will be raised because of it. Either be a distraction for us, or allow us to distract ourselves without judging ... PLEASE!!!!!
Why is so hard for Normies to understand why we RSDers live for distractions?? They are our calm amid the storm. It doesn't matter what they are, as long as we're distracted, we are less focused on the burning pain that courses through our bodies non-stop, 24/7/365. Ok Normies, let's try this on for size ... have you ever broken a bone, sprained a wrist or ankle, jammed a finger or toe, or been on the receiving end of a punch? Have you ever experienced 1st, 2nd, or 3rd degree burns (even sunburns)? How did that make you feel at the onset, do you remember? Did you hurt? Did you cry? Did you cuss? Did you go to the Emergency Room? Did it heal? Well ... combine all of those feelings and that's almost what it's like to live with chronic pain, without the "healing" part. We are never "ok." Even when we say that we are, we are still in a buttload of pain. It's relentless! Were you grateful when friends or family stopped by to check on you as you recovered? Did you get wrapped up in video games, movies, crossword puzzle books, Mad Libs? Did you regain a little color in your face as you visited or played? How did you pass the time while you were healing? Did you do everything that you could to take your mind off the pain ... aka "distraction"??? Now ... Imagine if the pain that you felt wasn't temporary!!
I have been chastised for always having my iPhone with me and for playing my silly games on it. I play Words With Friends, Scramble With Friends, Bingo, Angry Birds, Where's My Water, Casino Games, Dominoes, Solitaire, Backgammon, Skee Ball, and Family Feud as my distractions. But I also use it as physical therapy for my hands and thumbs as well as a distraction. I have been told by the docs that, because my RSD stemmed in my right thumb and hand, I have an added problem with mobility and localized seizures. But that's not the only reason that I try to keep it with me at all times. It is also my Life Alert connection as well! If I'm walking down my back steps to my patio and happen to fall, I have my phone to call for help instead of having to scream and hope 1 of my neighbors hears me, or having to crawl back into the house to find my phone to make the call. If I'm in the shower and I fall, yes it's happened before, my phone is on the edge of the sink, within reaching distance. It's next to my bed at night just in case I can't get out of bed in the morning and need help. I keep Netflix and HuluPlus on my iPhone in case I'm having such a bad day that I can't get to my living room to watch tv. (I have a tv and dvd player in my bedroom, but no cable/dish connection.) There is a method to my madness, there really truly is!!
So the next time one of you Normies sees one of us RSDers lost in techno-land, don't give us a hard time about it!! Don't make derogatory comments about our phones, laptops, iPads, or game consoles. That's you judging us!! And don't think that those comments fall on deaf ears. We hear you and we hear the contempt in your voice when you say it. Unless you know the pain that we live with, you don't know what it takes in order for us to not ball up into the fetal position and scream ... would you rather see/hear that??? Neither would we!!
I have faith that, once again, a few Normies might think that I'm hitting below the belt. Deal with it! You put us in the position to have to speak out about our need for distractions. If you care enough, you'll stick around to learn more about becoming a distraction for us yourself. If you don't really give a rats ass and are just going through the motions, you deserve to feel like shit right now!! (and I don't have to apologize for this one to my Mom ... I've actually heard her say this before in my defense!! God bless that woman!!) I have faith that eyes will be opened as to why we do what we do and more understanding and awareness will be raised because of it. Either be a distraction for us, or allow us to distract ourselves without judging ... PLEASE!!!!!
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
In Search Of ...
Do something today that makes you happy!! That is my advice to my RSD self. It doesn't matter if I don't have a pocket full of cash, I will find something to do that accomplishes my goal. Whether it's a Mom-sponsored mani/pedi, a short jaunt into the mountains, a trip to Ziggi's, lunch with one of my parents or a "Normie" friend, a matinee movie, writing, napping, lying in the sun, or taking Kiva to the d-o-g-p-a-r-k, my goal is to do something that, not only makes me happy, but doesn't cause me any extra pain. I'm down to a 3 out of 10 on my pain scale and I absolutely positively do not want to do anything to jeopardize that!! Needless to say, Elitches is out of the question today.
Too many times have I allowed someone else's ish creep into my day and bring me down which, in turn, causes more pain. Too many times have I bitten off more than I can chew and have left too many tasks half finished which, in turn, causes frustration which leads to added pain. Too many times have I gotten excited about doing something only to move faster than my body's speed limit and crash into a wall ... or the floor ... or a door ... or over the dog. Too many times have I given more than I have to give and left myself with nothing. Too many times have I relied on someone else to make me happy, only to end up with heartache and, inevitably, more pain.
And so begins my search for the perfect activity for a warm and windy June day. Yes, I must work within my own limitations, but that does not mean that I "can't" do anything. Helen Keller said, "I am only one, but still I am one. I cannot do everything, but still I can do something; and because I cannot do everything, I will not refuse to do something that I can do."
I have faith that today is full of potential and I will find my "something." I have faith that, whatever I decide to do, it will something that selfishly puts a smile on my face. I have faith that I will turn off my phone and turn my back on OPD (Other People's Drama) today and be happy instead of sympathetic and frustrated. Who knows, maybe I'll discover a hidden talent or a new passion!! Even at 43, it could happen!!
Too many times have I allowed someone else's ish creep into my day and bring me down which, in turn, causes more pain. Too many times have I bitten off more than I can chew and have left too many tasks half finished which, in turn, causes frustration which leads to added pain. Too many times have I gotten excited about doing something only to move faster than my body's speed limit and crash into a wall ... or the floor ... or a door ... or over the dog. Too many times have I given more than I have to give and left myself with nothing. Too many times have I relied on someone else to make me happy, only to end up with heartache and, inevitably, more pain.
And so begins my search for the perfect activity for a warm and windy June day. Yes, I must work within my own limitations, but that does not mean that I "can't" do anything. Helen Keller said, "I am only one, but still I am one. I cannot do everything, but still I can do something; and because I cannot do everything, I will not refuse to do something that I can do."
I have faith that today is full of potential and I will find my "something." I have faith that, whatever I decide to do, it will something that selfishly puts a smile on my face. I have faith that I will turn off my phone and turn my back on OPD (Other People's Drama) today and be happy instead of sympathetic and frustrated. Who knows, maybe I'll discover a hidden talent or a new passion!! Even at 43, it could happen!!
Monday, June 4, 2012
Pick Myself Up, Dust Myself Off, Blah Blah Blah
First and foremost, I would like to take this opportunity to thank everyone that participated in the FUR'RSDday celebration on Friday!! My Facebook wall was flooded with orange!! Dogs, cats, kids, guinea pigs, and friends on vacation that were away from their pets sent me pics of themselves wearing orange. It was magical, I must say. There were 3 people in particular whose participation didn't surprise me, but their words warmed the cockles of my heart. 3 young women, married, working, and starting families that let me know that I've done something right with my life. I was their 1st volleyball coach in high school ... they were part of the Freshman class in 1997. To know that, as teens, these young girls had no clue what I going through back then, and then to fast forward 15 years and have them realize just what I put myself through for them is abso-freaking-lutely priceless!! I love you Bomb, Peeples, and KR!! You will always be "my girls"!!!
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Now ... I don't know about you guys, but when something sad happens in my life, I have to give myself permission to go through the 5 stages of loss/grief so that I can get back to living my own life. When it doesn't involve death, it usually only takes me a few days to allow myself the time to process 1) Denial/Isolation, 2) Anger, 3) Bargaining, 4) Depression, 5) Acceptance. But ... when I get a triple whammy within the span of one week, I can honestly say that it's gonna take me a little longer. Now here's the kicker ... because of my RSD, my emotions are directly tied to my pain levels and I have now been riding a 5 (up from my post-block 2) for eight days (Saturday was a 6 ... ugh). I was prepared to handle Whammy #2, taking the Munchkins back to their Mommie and Daddy on Thursday. That one was expected. I always go through the grief stages when they leave ... I'm used to that. The other two blindsided me ... from way out in left field ... with a mallet ... to the backside of my head ... and heart.
Whammy #1 ... break ups are always hard and this one was no different. There is no blame to place, everything is amicable, it's just sad!! It's a loss. There's no "right time" for the talk, but when it needs to happen, there's nothing else to do except handle it like an adult, pull up my big girl panties, and process the 5 stages. I have reached Acceptance here and I know that we will be good friends from now on.
Whammy #2 ... was inevitable. Unless the Bombshell, the B-I-L, and the Munchkins move to Colorado, it is a loss that I will continue to deal with numerous times a year. Two and a half years of practice doesn't make it any easier, but I've learned how to process that one fairly quickly.
Whammy #3 ... at this point in my tumultuous week, I desperately needed something to look forward to ... human interaction with my local peeps who mean the most to me. On Tuesday, right after Whammy #1, and as I was preparing for Whammy #2, I made this need known to the people that I knew could help me celebrate my 21st anniversary with RSD, as well as help me to find some happiness in my icky week. I was told that it was handled and to go ahead and look forward to Friday night. As Mom and I were traveling I-70 on Thursday afternoon, I was informed that everyone had "other plans" for Friday night but not to give up hope because we may still be able to figure something out. So I didn't give up hope ... not until 3 p.m. on Friday when I hadn't heard differently ... actually, I never heard anything after that convo on Thursday. <cue the dormant abandonment issues> ... So I called Houdini at 4. He said that he was on his way back from Denver and was 40 minutes out, but he'd be over. At 6 p.m. I was so beside myself with grief and hurt feelings that my pain flared. I broke out the K-spray, heating pad, and other meds to help try to keep the flare as low as possible. At 8, as I was headed to bed out of sheer depression, Houdini called. He'd had a better offer too.
I am almost back on track. I planted $100 worth of flowers and veggies over the weekend. My maternal Grandmother taught me that when you're frustrated, depressed, or anxious, go dig in the dirt. Despite the added pain, I successfully managed 2 gardens and a clean and weed-less patio. I still have about 8 flower pots to plant and arrange and my Mom brought over some lavender for me to plant by the gate ... for luck. After last week, I could sure use that "luck" so those will get affixed into the dirt sometime today.
I have faith that I will break free from stages #4 and #5 for Whammy #3 today!! I have already forgiven the ones that I feel hurt me. I also have faith that, as I regroup my life (again), I will figure out just what it is that I want for said life. I will improvise, adapt, and overcome. I am a warrior ... and a sassy one at that!! It's who I am and it's what I do. Just because I've been let down, that does not give me permission to behave that way towards others. "An eye for an eye" is not a motto that I choose to add to my repertoire. I LOVE my friends. I understand that the world does not revolve around my happy ass. I understand that life gets crazy and things happen. I have faith that, regardless of my abandonment issues (that stem back to when I was 6), I will find a way to accept what has happened and keep truckin along. Life is too sweet and too short to stay wrapped up in depression. Time to get my pain level back down and live!!
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Now ... I don't know about you guys, but when something sad happens in my life, I have to give myself permission to go through the 5 stages of loss/grief so that I can get back to living my own life. When it doesn't involve death, it usually only takes me a few days to allow myself the time to process 1) Denial/Isolation, 2) Anger, 3) Bargaining, 4) Depression, 5) Acceptance. But ... when I get a triple whammy within the span of one week, I can honestly say that it's gonna take me a little longer. Now here's the kicker ... because of my RSD, my emotions are directly tied to my pain levels and I have now been riding a 5 (up from my post-block 2) for eight days (Saturday was a 6 ... ugh). I was prepared to handle Whammy #2, taking the Munchkins back to their Mommie and Daddy on Thursday. That one was expected. I always go through the grief stages when they leave ... I'm used to that. The other two blindsided me ... from way out in left field ... with a mallet ... to the backside of my head ... and heart.
Whammy #1 ... break ups are always hard and this one was no different. There is no blame to place, everything is amicable, it's just sad!! It's a loss. There's no "right time" for the talk, but when it needs to happen, there's nothing else to do except handle it like an adult, pull up my big girl panties, and process the 5 stages. I have reached Acceptance here and I know that we will be good friends from now on.
Whammy #2 ... was inevitable. Unless the Bombshell, the B-I-L, and the Munchkins move to Colorado, it is a loss that I will continue to deal with numerous times a year. Two and a half years of practice doesn't make it any easier, but I've learned how to process that one fairly quickly.
Whammy #3 ... at this point in my tumultuous week, I desperately needed something to look forward to ... human interaction with my local peeps who mean the most to me. On Tuesday, right after Whammy #1, and as I was preparing for Whammy #2, I made this need known to the people that I knew could help me celebrate my 21st anniversary with RSD, as well as help me to find some happiness in my icky week. I was told that it was handled and to go ahead and look forward to Friday night. As Mom and I were traveling I-70 on Thursday afternoon, I was informed that everyone had "other plans" for Friday night but not to give up hope because we may still be able to figure something out. So I didn't give up hope ... not until 3 p.m. on Friday when I hadn't heard differently ... actually, I never heard anything after that convo on Thursday. <cue the dormant abandonment issues> ... So I called Houdini at 4. He said that he was on his way back from Denver and was 40 minutes out, but he'd be over. At 6 p.m. I was so beside myself with grief and hurt feelings that my pain flared. I broke out the K-spray, heating pad, and other meds to help try to keep the flare as low as possible. At 8, as I was headed to bed out of sheer depression, Houdini called. He'd had a better offer too.
I am almost back on track. I planted $100 worth of flowers and veggies over the weekend. My maternal Grandmother taught me that when you're frustrated, depressed, or anxious, go dig in the dirt. Despite the added pain, I successfully managed 2 gardens and a clean and weed-less patio. I still have about 8 flower pots to plant and arrange and my Mom brought over some lavender for me to plant by the gate ... for luck. After last week, I could sure use that "luck" so those will get affixed into the dirt sometime today.
I have faith that I will break free from stages #4 and #5 for Whammy #3 today!! I have already forgiven the ones that I feel hurt me. I also have faith that, as I regroup my life (again), I will figure out just what it is that I want for said life. I will improvise, adapt, and overcome. I am a warrior ... and a sassy one at that!! It's who I am and it's what I do. Just because I've been let down, that does not give me permission to behave that way towards others. "An eye for an eye" is not a motto that I choose to add to my repertoire. I LOVE my friends. I understand that the world does not revolve around my happy ass. I understand that life gets crazy and things happen. I have faith that, regardless of my abandonment issues (that stem back to when I was 6), I will find a way to accept what has happened and keep truckin along. Life is too sweet and too short to stay wrapped up in depression. Time to get my pain level back down and live!!
Friday, June 1, 2012
21 Year Milestone ... YAY ME!!
Happy Anniversary to you ... Happy Anniversary to you ... Happy Anniversary to my RSD (you bat rastard SOB)... Happy Anniversary to you!!
Wow, 21 years ago this evening a tornado touched down in Longmont, CO and cut the power to most businesses in Old Town. I was waitressing just off of Main Street at a restaurant called The Steak Out. The twister took our electricity but, since the kitchen operated on gas, we stayed open and served by candlelight. I was in the waitress station, leaning against a prep table, in the dark, talking to the other server while she was making salads by the light of cafe candles. She opened the short refrigerator under the table, and somehow, when she shut the door, my right thumb got caught in the magnetic seal between the door and the frame. I screamed. She tried to get the door open again to no avail ... so I yanked my thumb out. I was 22 years old and, at that moment, my life changed forever.
I had to learn how to shower and dress 1 handed. (buh-bye all clothes with buttons and shoes with laces!) My Mom and a couple of my female friends were able to help me do my hair, put on make-up, and don jewelry once and a while, seeing as I was right handed (still am, for that matter). My Dad, being a Workman's Compensation and Social Security Attorney, was able to get the needed referrals to get me in to see a hand specialist in Denver within the 1st month. When the doc asked me to take off the watch that my Mom had helped me put on my left wrist earlier that morning, I tugged on the leather band with my teeth. He looked at the x-rays that I'd had done at the local clinic, checked the swelling, the atrophy, the discoloration, the lack of movement, and my amount of salty tears. Then he uttered those 3 letters, R-S-D. My Dad's face got all scrunchy and his shoulders slumped. He had already been introduced to the disease courtesy of another client. He knew that the prognosis was not good. But ... I was one of the lucky ones that received an early diagnosis. Where I was unlucky, besides getting the Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy in the first place, was that ... I was a waitress making $2.11 per hour plus tips. By law, we were only required to claim 6% of our tips (for taxes) or the total amount of credit card tips, whichever was greater. My bi-monthly w/c checks were $122.50. Needless to say, I screwed myself, because when I was finally granted Social Security Disability in 2005 (on my 5th attempt), my monthly checks were less than $600 a month. How in the hell was an adult supposed to live off of that??
The disease spread, encompassing my body from my neck to my toes. I have had over 500 nerve blocks since June 1, 1991 and been on a plethora of medications. I fought, I tried to give up, I fought, I cried, I got drunk, I stayed drunk, I got sober, I've stayed sober, I got off of the life robbing painkillers and muscle relaxers, I fought fought fought tooth and nail to get to where I am today. And today, 21 years later, I value my RSD anniversary more than I value my own birthday and my sobriety date combined. THIS is the day that I need to celebrate because this is the day that has made me who I am. I have RSD but RSD does not have me!! I have been let down and abandoned by a lot of people over the years. Either they don't know how to cope with a person with an invisible illness like RSD or they haven't realized what this disease and this day mean to me. This is MY day to show the world that I am a survivor, a warrior, an advocate, and the 8th wonder of the world.
I have faith that I will hold my head high and shout "F.U. RSD" all ... day ... long!! I have faith that, even if I get bailed on this year, I will stick my bee-stung middle finger in the air to salute RSD before I curl up on the couch with my orange clad security blanket (I call her "Kiva") and watch movies about survivors and fighters as I sip (ok, chug) copious amounts of coffee!! After all, I Am The Warrior!!!! (bang bang)
Wow, 21 years ago this evening a tornado touched down in Longmont, CO and cut the power to most businesses in Old Town. I was waitressing just off of Main Street at a restaurant called The Steak Out. The twister took our electricity but, since the kitchen operated on gas, we stayed open and served by candlelight. I was in the waitress station, leaning against a prep table, in the dark, talking to the other server while she was making salads by the light of cafe candles. She opened the short refrigerator under the table, and somehow, when she shut the door, my right thumb got caught in the magnetic seal between the door and the frame. I screamed. She tried to get the door open again to no avail ... so I yanked my thumb out. I was 22 years old and, at that moment, my life changed forever.
I had to learn how to shower and dress 1 handed. (buh-bye all clothes with buttons and shoes with laces!) My Mom and a couple of my female friends were able to help me do my hair, put on make-up, and don jewelry once and a while, seeing as I was right handed (still am, for that matter). My Dad, being a Workman's Compensation and Social Security Attorney, was able to get the needed referrals to get me in to see a hand specialist in Denver within the 1st month. When the doc asked me to take off the watch that my Mom had helped me put on my left wrist earlier that morning, I tugged on the leather band with my teeth. He looked at the x-rays that I'd had done at the local clinic, checked the swelling, the atrophy, the discoloration, the lack of movement, and my amount of salty tears. Then he uttered those 3 letters, R-S-D. My Dad's face got all scrunchy and his shoulders slumped. He had already been introduced to the disease courtesy of another client. He knew that the prognosis was not good. But ... I was one of the lucky ones that received an early diagnosis. Where I was unlucky, besides getting the Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy in the first place, was that ... I was a waitress making $2.11 per hour plus tips. By law, we were only required to claim 6% of our tips (for taxes) or the total amount of credit card tips, whichever was greater. My bi-monthly w/c checks were $122.50. Needless to say, I screwed myself, because when I was finally granted Social Security Disability in 2005 (on my 5th attempt), my monthly checks were less than $600 a month. How in the hell was an adult supposed to live off of that??
The disease spread, encompassing my body from my neck to my toes. I have had over 500 nerve blocks since June 1, 1991 and been on a plethora of medications. I fought, I tried to give up, I fought, I cried, I got drunk, I stayed drunk, I got sober, I've stayed sober, I got off of the life robbing painkillers and muscle relaxers, I fought fought fought tooth and nail to get to where I am today. And today, 21 years later, I value my RSD anniversary more than I value my own birthday and my sobriety date combined. THIS is the day that I need to celebrate because this is the day that has made me who I am. I have RSD but RSD does not have me!! I have been let down and abandoned by a lot of people over the years. Either they don't know how to cope with a person with an invisible illness like RSD or they haven't realized what this disease and this day mean to me. This is MY day to show the world that I am a survivor, a warrior, an advocate, and the 8th wonder of the world.
I have faith that I will hold my head high and shout "F.U. RSD" all ... day ... long!! I have faith that, even if I get bailed on this year, I will stick my bee-stung middle finger in the air to salute RSD before I curl up on the couch with my orange clad security blanket (I call her "Kiva") and watch movies about survivors and fighters as I sip (ok, chug) copious amounts of coffee!! After all, I Am The Warrior!!!! (bang bang)
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