I went to bed early last night. Really early. Around 830 PM. There I was, in bed, legs elevated... awake till 10 PM. I didn't think I'd get to sleep. My legs were swollen (as per usual) and I was really tired (as in, drugged) but about ten minutes after my legs were elevated the itching started. It started in my calves and went up my legs to my lower back and my skin itched so bad I thought I was going insane. Of course, scratching didn't help. Stretching my legs didn't help. Nothing helped. I finally dozed off sometime after 10 PM. (I know this because "Golden Girls" was on TV).
At 4 AM, the disabled guy got out of bed to go to the bathroom and I woke up. I started to roll over and couldn't move. The pain was so fucking bad that I couldn't move. I tried rolling the other way, thinking if went where more bed-space was, it would hurt less. It didn't. It hurt so bad that I couldn't stop the tears. I cried. The pain was all over. It was everywhere, but most of it radiated from my right arm and shoulder. (at the moment, it's not so bad, around a 5 on that 1 to 10 pain scale). I felt as if my muscles were trying to rip themselves from my body. Burning, shredding pain. I managed to get turned over and then dozed in and out of sleep till I got up at 5 AM. At 5 AM, it took me twice as long to get up and get my clothes on (giant T-shirt, loose yoga pants; I sleep naked, sorry for that mental image).
I've been up an hour as I type this and my muscles ache as if I've got a horrible flu. But I don't have the flu. This is fucking fibromyalgia and it fucking sucks. This is the worst day I've had in weeks. Hell, maybe months. Yesterday was bad, but in the drag-me-to-the-floor sense. Unless this Gabapentin kicks in hard, then today will be worse than yesterday.
I told the disabled guy (who got up right when I started typing this) that I woke up at 4 AM and cried from the pain. I couldn't move. He said, "I've felt like that before."
I replied, "It isn't the same."
He said, as if I hadn't spoken, "But I kept going anyway, moved and got up."
Well, so did I, Goddammit. You see me sitting in this fucking chair? How the fuck do you think I got down the stairs? So I repeated, "It isn't the same. This is different. You were sore from working out. I'm sore because I'm alive." He sort of made a shrug as he put on his hat (he was heading outside to shovel the couple inches of snow we got overnight).
So I added, "I know pain, Goddammit! I gave birth to an eleven pound baby. I had my leg bones sawed off and replaced with metal. I know what fucking pain is. Do you realize how badly I had to hurt to be brought to tears? Tears!"
Of course, he didn't care. He doesn't understand or he doesn't care. But what a way to wake up.
If I don't move at all- if I sit absolutely still... the pain is about 4/5 and my skin itches in little electrical-ish jolts. But of course, I can't be absolutely still. I have to breathe.