Friday wasn't bad. Two of our puppies went home on Friday. I did a half-assed job cleaning up the living room a little for the impending strangers- then apologized and explained that my kids don't do housework because they all have jobs and I'm in pain. Sometimes, I feel like saying, "We're lucky I'm upright, wearing clothes and coherent enough to piece these words together in a sentence."
But, Friday was overall okay. I took some Vicodin about a half hour before the first couple arrived to pick up their puppy. Then there was a brief comedy of errors in the attempt to get the inside baking element out of the oven. (it died about three days ago, and we had to wait till we got paid for a puppy to buy a new one). I got the replacement element and the spouse installed it and now our 16 year old oven works again. So, I went to the store.
I zipped through the store like the Me of old. Which is strange, because the Old Me is actually the Younger Me. I liked the Younger Me. She was happy and healthy and quick. A little chirpy and if I met her on the street, I might find her annoying, but I miss her.
More times than I care to remember from yesterday, I was completely drenched in sweat. It was humid and hot (around 90 Fahrenheit) and any move I made outside caused me to sweat like a long-distance runner. At the grocery store, by the time I got into my truck, I was dripping as though I had run a marathon with a Gatorade drip in my arm. But, aside from the intense sweating (which I'm sure was a combination of my extra activity and the warm temps and high humidity).
Lately, the humidity makes me feel worse, but I attribute the daytime Vicodin to the fact that it didn't seem to bother me. I was quite pleased yesterday. Felt good. Walked good. Seemed to have energy that I hadn't had in a while. I even considered writing about it last night, but around 830 PM, I was sooo tired. So very tired. I was in bed by 930, asleep by 10.
I think I slept through the night. I don't recall waking up in the night like I used to, so that's a good thing. When my alarm went off, it felt as if I'd just fallen asleep- which could mean one of two things: I slept so good it felt as though it sped by, or- I woke up just as tired as I was when I fell asleep. It was a light combination of the two. As soon as I tried to sit up, every single muscle in my body rejected the mere thought of moving. Every muscle ached. Every tendon is tender (oh, that's an unintentional pun, I swear). My muscles feel hot. The skin on my hands feels like its burning and itching. So, a good day followed by a sore and achy morning.
Yesterday, I had a pain in my wrist. I've had this pain before. It comes and goes. As long as I don't put weight on my wrist, it doesn't really hurt, but the second I put my hand down or try to grip something, the pain shoots through. Now, its only in my wrist. It doesn't jolt down the fingers or up to my elbow. It affects my grip strength and I view it as a mere inconvenience. But it got me to thinking about how this fibromyalgia thing is testy. Pain comes and goes. So does the energy. Some days I feel like I could conquer the world. And some days, I feel like the world has kicked me in the Lady-nads and left me on the floor to let the minor planets finish me off. (I just had the thought of the planets circling my pained body, curled on the floor, while they dance around me, snapping their fingers like West Side Story... "Once you're a planet, you're a planet for life!" *snap, snap*
What do you want? Its 510 AM!
Oh, and two more puppies go home today.