Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Well, here's a kink in the garden hose.

I really have no idea what the hell that title means.

October 6th and 7th found me out at the Stronghold Olde English Faire. It wasn't just "cooler weather", it was downright COLD! And oh, boy, was it wonderful! Sure, I was wearing my ineffective cloak and not-period fingerless gloves (I had to keep my fingers free for photo-taking), but the fact that I wasn't dying of heat exhaustion or having a flareup from the humidity was enough for me to love the day.

Till I sat down for any extended period of time and then tried to move. Turns out, this fibro-beast doesn't like the cold weather any more than it likes the hot weather. This whole year has been a disturbing visit into chronic pain hell from whence I have no escape! (did you hear thunder and did my words echo? No? That's it, I'm firing the sound crew, they do nothing!). Luckily, on Saturday, I had the help of an armored escort. He helped me to my feet when I needed help standing up. Would you like to see a photo of him? Of course you would. I took this photo last year (2011) at Bristol. This was actually the day we met.

If not for his hand at times, I wouldn't have been able to stand up. The cold didn't just "settle in my bones", as I heard my elders say numerous times. The cold soaked into my muscles and my bones and set up tents, staged a protest, burned some effigies of what a pain-free existence used to be. The cold marched on the streets and stormed the castle. The cold intercepted the game-winning touchdown and ran it back down the field while my team floundered like so many... uh, flounders on the field.

You get the picture.

I had trouble falling asleep, because the cold made everything tighten up and the muscle relaxers did nothing to help. Sunday at Stronghold, I had my daughter with me and I took pain meds upon arrival at the faire. It helped a little. It was also not as cold as the day before.

So, what I take away from this past ten months...

The weather changing can trigger a flareup.

Humidity can trigger a flareup.

Heat can trigger a flareup.

Cold can trigger a flareup.

Physical activity can trigger a flareup.

A butterfly flapping its wings in New Cumbria can cause a flareup. (I don't even know if that's a real place. Maybe Cumbria isn't all that new, who am I to judge?).

So, basically, I need to live in a pressurized, climate-controlled environment and never move. Never get up and walk around. Never go outside. Never do anything. Never see anyone. Never, never, never, never.

Fuck that noise.

I spent three goddamn years trapped inside my house, inside this stupid body, at the will of a doctor who just wouldn't give me that much-needed consultation letter. I am not locking myself in the house and missing out again. I have no idea what can be done for this- I have a followup appointment on Thursday- but this ridiculous disease is not taking my life from me. I let it take enough from me.

So, I'll muster through. March on. Carry on and keep bitching.

I have another faire this weekend, one I've never been to and I can't wait. By the way, here's a link to the photos from Stronghold Olde English Faire in Oregon, Illinois.

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