A couple of weeks ago, my fiance made a comment to me that really hit home: "I miss the energetic you."
I was shocked. How could he miss the energetic me? He's never known the energetic me! I have been battling FM for about fourteen years now. I've only known him for three.
Part of me fell into that sad self contemplation that illnesses, tragic life circumstances and conditions like fibro can bring on. I began to remember the pre-fibro me - that early 20's girl who was carefree, energetic and ready to take on the world. I wouldn't recognise that girl if you put her in a police line up or projected an over sized picture of her right in front of my face. She was a lifetime ago; another me, someone else entirely. I wished that my fiance could have known me then and I wondered, would he have liked her?
I have to give credit to the fibro for one thing: self knowledge. As many of you know, living with a chronic pain condition allows one many opportunities to learn about one's own self: our strengths, weaknesses, likes, dislikes and priorities. Ultimately it forces us to ask ourselves - what is important to me? What do I want to spend my limited energy on?
In the end, I am grateful that my fiance didn't know me then. I sometimes feel awkward around people from the pre-fibro part of my life. I feel as if they are judging me, wondering why I have changed so much, wishing I was the person I used to be. It's hard to have that pressure and to think that way about the important people in your life. I don't want a husband who yearns for someone who no longer exists. I want and need him to love the me that I am today, tomorrow and for the rest of our lives - not to long for the person I was for only a blip during my lifetime.
When we met, I was attending a month long, in-hospital programme for fibromyalgia at St. Joseph's Health Care in London, Ontario. The program taught me to manage my energy, to listen to my body and to accept my condition. It was a revelation! I was attending that program because the exhaustion from the fibro had forced me to reduce my working hours from full-time to 1/3 time. I was struggling to manage my day to day life. The so-called "energetic" me that he first became acquainted with used a lot of her energy to put on the "I'm normal - not in pain, can do whatever you can do" face. Granted, I was also on leave from work and only focusing on my physical recovery. That woman wasn't once again working full-time (have only been back to full-time for almost 3 months) and planning a wedding. That woman had a long distance relationship and only saw her boyfriend on weekends. That woman too seemed a lifetime ago.
I guess the point of this rambling is that it's all about perspective. From his perspective I once was a woman with energy. From mine, I have so much less energy than I used to. Of course some of that comes with age, but mostly it comes with the chronic pain and sleep issues that are part and parcel of FM.
Tuesday 24 April 2012
Saturday 21 April 2012
The inevitable crash
No matter how many times I do this - I never seem to learn. Every report card entry deadline is a killer to me. No matter how on top of my marking I try to be, I always end up with a huge stack at the last minute.
Last June, I was up so late marking and calcualating marks, so ridiculously beyond tired, that I scraped the drivers's side of my car onthe cement pillar at the edge of my parking spot. I had to drive to my parent's house to enter the marks because I didn't have internet access at home. Those scratches have yet to be reparied and serve as a constant reminder of how one shouldn't drive when they are beyond exhaustion.
Mid-term mark entry has just passed. It was a little tougher this time. It was my first semester with a full course load in the last four years. Three whole classes to calculate. 45 short stories to mark, 14 posters etc. etc. The pile never seems to diminish - only grow!
After working a reduced schedule for about four years now, it's been a tough haul readjusting to full-time work. The hardest part is the mornings. With the fibro morning stiffness (which would more aply be called, morning after being run over by a train feeling) and the general difficulty functioning before 9 a.m., starting the work day at 8:40 has been near impossible. The positive news is that as a whole I enjoy the classes and students I am currently teaching and I manage to make it to 3:01 without needing to sleep (at least most days). The evenings and weeekends are another story.
Add to that regular schedule the hecticness and lack of sleep that comes with report cards and it's a miracle I'm still standing. Sleeping till noon today was a good start, but as they say, there is no such thing as sleep catch up.
After the adrenaline and forcing myself to function every day this week, that inevitable crash of energy has hit me. Who knows how long this malaise will last? Hopefully not long, I've got a wedding to plan, three classes to teach and many miles to go.....
Last June, I was up so late marking and calcualating marks, so ridiculously beyond tired, that I scraped the drivers's side of my car onthe cement pillar at the edge of my parking spot. I had to drive to my parent's house to enter the marks because I didn't have internet access at home. Those scratches have yet to be reparied and serve as a constant reminder of how one shouldn't drive when they are beyond exhaustion.
Mid-term mark entry has just passed. It was a little tougher this time. It was my first semester with a full course load in the last four years. Three whole classes to calculate. 45 short stories to mark, 14 posters etc. etc. The pile never seems to diminish - only grow!
After working a reduced schedule for about four years now, it's been a tough haul readjusting to full-time work. The hardest part is the mornings. With the fibro morning stiffness (which would more aply be called, morning after being run over by a train feeling) and the general difficulty functioning before 9 a.m., starting the work day at 8:40 has been near impossible. The positive news is that as a whole I enjoy the classes and students I am currently teaching and I manage to make it to 3:01 without needing to sleep (at least most days). The evenings and weeekends are another story.
Add to that regular schedule the hecticness and lack of sleep that comes with report cards and it's a miracle I'm still standing. Sleeping till noon today was a good start, but as they say, there is no such thing as sleep catch up.
After the adrenaline and forcing myself to function every day this week, that inevitable crash of energy has hit me. Who knows how long this malaise will last? Hopefully not long, I've got a wedding to plan, three classes to teach and many miles to go.....
Friday 20 April 2012
Fibro impacts on wedding planning
I guess I was naive to think that my fibro wouldn't really interfere with the planning of my upcoming wedding. I try to live my life without the fibro interfering in major events and life decisions, but as most of you with chronic pain know, it is often beyond our control. Stress flares up the fibro. The only control we have is over reducing our stress levels.
Last week, I went for my first florist consultation for the wedding. I had prepared by choosing my favourite flowers, researching flowers that would be in season and choosing the colours for the bouquet - all the usual bride stuff. I even chose my favourite type of bouquet - the cascade.
Arriving at the florist I was given a big wake-up call. Not only had I chosen one of the heaviest styles of bouquets but I also chose one of the most awkward to hold. My shoulders are an area of particular weakness. When carrying anything of weight, I need to carry it close to my body or chest to reduce the strain and weight. It it tough to carry grocery bags due to the pull they create throughout the upper body muscles. A cascade bouquet will do pretty much the same thing - the weight is to the front of the bouquet and thus puts more strain on the shoulders and arms.
Additionally, I have grip issues that come along with my FM. Holding newspapers, magazines, bags - basically anything gripped in my hand - can cause issues because my grip will give way without warning and suddenly the object is tumbling to the floor. Not only would that be embarrassing if that were to happen during the wedding, but also potentially quite damaging to the flowers in my bouquet.
I'm still not sure what to do. The florist would arrange the bouquet so that the flowers were not packed in tightly and thus reduce the overall weight. The bridesmaids will be there to grab the bouquet when required but it's hard to predict how my hands and arms will be that day.
Then of course, there is the other fibro issue - multiple sensitivities. In addition to worrying about the look and colour of the flowers, we also have to be concerned with the scents. We needed to choose no or low scent blossoms in order to avoid migraines on the big day.
I'm beginning to wonder if I should do some sort of alternative bouquet. Not a broach one to be sure, as that would weigh a ton. Hmm.... so many things to consider.
Last week, I went for my first florist consultation for the wedding. I had prepared by choosing my favourite flowers, researching flowers that would be in season and choosing the colours for the bouquet - all the usual bride stuff. I even chose my favourite type of bouquet - the cascade.
Arriving at the florist I was given a big wake-up call. Not only had I chosen one of the heaviest styles of bouquets but I also chose one of the most awkward to hold. My shoulders are an area of particular weakness. When carrying anything of weight, I need to carry it close to my body or chest to reduce the strain and weight. It it tough to carry grocery bags due to the pull they create throughout the upper body muscles. A cascade bouquet will do pretty much the same thing - the weight is to the front of the bouquet and thus puts more strain on the shoulders and arms.
Additionally, I have grip issues that come along with my FM. Holding newspapers, magazines, bags - basically anything gripped in my hand - can cause issues because my grip will give way without warning and suddenly the object is tumbling to the floor. Not only would that be embarrassing if that were to happen during the wedding, but also potentially quite damaging to the flowers in my bouquet.
I'm still not sure what to do. The florist would arrange the bouquet so that the flowers were not packed in tightly and thus reduce the overall weight. The bridesmaids will be there to grab the bouquet when required but it's hard to predict how my hands and arms will be that day.
Then of course, there is the other fibro issue - multiple sensitivities. In addition to worrying about the look and colour of the flowers, we also have to be concerned with the scents. We needed to choose no or low scent blossoms in order to avoid migraines on the big day.
I'm beginning to wonder if I should do some sort of alternative bouquet. Not a broach one to be sure, as that would weigh a ton. Hmm.... so many things to consider.
Thursday 19 April 2012
Oh the drama!
What to say? For a person with diarrhoea of the fingers, I find myself stumped at what to write, for this my first blog ever. I am not a follower of blogs, however, today I was reading the postings of a friend and was inspired.
In my youth I loved to write letters and capture all of my emotional drama in the pages of my journal. That near daily writing routine was abruptly ended in late 1998 after I was in a car accident that led to my developing chronic pain (Fibromyalgia in my case). Suddenly, it was hard for me to grip a pen, never mind put the pen to paper for more than a line at at time. The onset of my fibro dashed many dreams for me - both big and small - not the least of which was my passion for the written word.
Here I am today, nearly 14 years later, and that need to put my thoughts, dreams and pain into words has once again inspired me to write. Only this time, the words will not be buried in a journal, never to be read by any other eyes but mine. I must get vulnerable and allow others in to share my experiences, perhaps to identify, or ideally to learn.
As a teacher, I am passionate about lifelong learning. People learn in many ways; myself, in school I was always an auditory/linguistic learner. It was not a problem for me to just sit back and listen to the lecture or simply to read the words on the textbook page. As a fan of drama and music, I found that the ability to put information in a song and learn it to a tune would cause the information to sink indelibly into my mind. Fibromyalgia introduced me to a whole new world of learning, one where your own body is the loudest voice, and the only path to true knowledge was through physical experience.
In this blog, I hope to share both the triumphs and the tears. For many years it felt like I was defined by my condition, now however, I recognise that the Fibromyalgia is only one small part of my identity. True the pain can sometimes be the loudest part, but it does not define me and it will not rob me of living my life to the fullest.
Who am I? I am a teacher.
A fiancee.
A daughter.
A sister.
A friend.
A neighbour.
I am a woman.
An activist (in my own mind).
A writer, a reader, a lover of the written and spoken word.
A teaching artist.
A performer.
A scrapbooker.
A shopaholic.
A klutz.
I am this and so much more. And last, but not least, I am a woman who has suffered from Fibromyalgia syndrome for nearly 14 years.
In my youth I loved to write letters and capture all of my emotional drama in the pages of my journal. That near daily writing routine was abruptly ended in late 1998 after I was in a car accident that led to my developing chronic pain (Fibromyalgia in my case). Suddenly, it was hard for me to grip a pen, never mind put the pen to paper for more than a line at at time. The onset of my fibro dashed many dreams for me - both big and small - not the least of which was my passion for the written word.
Here I am today, nearly 14 years later, and that need to put my thoughts, dreams and pain into words has once again inspired me to write. Only this time, the words will not be buried in a journal, never to be read by any other eyes but mine. I must get vulnerable and allow others in to share my experiences, perhaps to identify, or ideally to learn.
As a teacher, I am passionate about lifelong learning. People learn in many ways; myself, in school I was always an auditory/linguistic learner. It was not a problem for me to just sit back and listen to the lecture or simply to read the words on the textbook page. As a fan of drama and music, I found that the ability to put information in a song and learn it to a tune would cause the information to sink indelibly into my mind. Fibromyalgia introduced me to a whole new world of learning, one where your own body is the loudest voice, and the only path to true knowledge was through physical experience.
In this blog, I hope to share both the triumphs and the tears. For many years it felt like I was defined by my condition, now however, I recognise that the Fibromyalgia is only one small part of my identity. True the pain can sometimes be the loudest part, but it does not define me and it will not rob me of living my life to the fullest.
Who am I? I am a teacher.
A fiancee.
A daughter.
A sister.
A friend.
A neighbour.
I am a woman.
An activist (in my own mind).
A writer, a reader, a lover of the written and spoken word.
A teaching artist.
A performer.
A scrapbooker.
A shopaholic.
A klutz.
I am this and so much more. And last, but not least, I am a woman who has suffered from Fibromyalgia syndrome for nearly 14 years.
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