The new flare-up from Hell. They can't ALL be from Hell, can they?

I started having this flare-up on Monday. At first, it wasn't an issue, because I figured it was Faire Weekend spill-over. I always hurt the Monday after a faire weekend. But, as the day went on, the pain got worse and worse instead of better. Tuesday wasn't terrible, but I felt awful. Just that all-over achy feeling, sort of like the pre-flu. Wednesday sucked. I took pain meds all day. And on all those days, I had to take a nap in the morning. I had no choice. It was either "go take a nap for an hour" or "fall down on the floor and be smothered in Chis" (say that out loud).

Then we have today. I woke up in agony. And I mean agony. I had pain all over my body. From my toes to my head and just about everything in between. I couldn't even walk. I had to shuffle. The only way to describe that astounding amount of pain is to liken it to a sprained ankle... if that sprained ankle pain is ALL OVER YOUR BODY. It was an intense, constant pain. Every step shot a jolt of pain through my legs. My ankles felt like I had actually sprained them (I haven't, by the way. And they STILL feel like that now, late in the evening).

I couldn't take daytime Vicodin though. I had to run some errands and go to the grocery store. I hate the whole upright, living, doing, clothing thing on flareup days. My skin didn't just itch today, it felt like I was on fire. My skin still feels hot, almost like I have a fever, but its only a fever I can feel. If you were to touch my skin- that is, if I let you close enough to me to try and lay even the gentlest finger on my body- it would feel normal. I'm not sweaty, I'm not actually feverish. And as if that wasn't fun enough, the itching is doing that thing. Those hairy-legged spiders are trying to escape through my pores again.

When I got home from my errands, I just sat down at my desk. Within an hour, my body decided that my super-soft sweater was sandpaper and that my jeans were designed by the same guy who created wool blankets for the US Army. The neuropathy in my feet decided that my shoes were made of bear traps. I went upstairs and crawled into bed, leaving my clothes in a random pile near my dresser. I wasn't tired, I just needed to go starfish and even out the pain or the gravitational pull. I did end up taking a short nap, though. Not on purpose, it just happened.

I'm a few hours into my pain meds and my body finally feels a little better. The agonizing edge has been dialed back a little. Now instead of "agonizing", the pain is closer to "terrible". The itching level is at "insanity" and the fire-skin has cooled to a Girl-Scout level as opposed to "arsonist".

Tomorrow, I have to take it easy. On Saturday, I'm doing a charity photo shoot as the second photographer and since its a charity for a woman's self-confidence, I'm taking part in it. (The Traveling Red Dress- my daughters, four years apart in school, both had red prom dresses and they're going to donate those dresses to the cause. Oh, and they'll be at the photo shoot too). But if I expect to function on Saturday, I have to take it easy tomorrow.

I could do without the sprained-ankle feeling in my ankles. The thing about that pain is that it doesn't hurt if I'm not standing or moving my ankles. Right now, I'm in that proper typing position- sitting up straight, wrists resting on the padded thingy for my keyboard, and I have one foot placed slightly ahead of the other, flat on the floor. My ankles do not hurt. But if I go to flex my ankle or rotate it (one of the moves for reducing swelling in the legs), it screams in agony like I actually sprained it.

There's a comedian (Greg Behrendt, actually) who jokes about hurting oneself while one sleeps. Of course, his version is a lot funnier than mine. What do you expect? He's a comedian. I'm a fat housewife with fibrofuckingmyalgia and an obsession with renaissance faires and photography. (speaking of renaissance faires, we're 44 days from OPEN WIDE THE GATES!).

Part of my errands today was that I had to get my dad's mail (he's out of town again). While there, I weighed myself on his scale (I don't have one, he has a fancy one from the doctor that does everything but point and laugh at you). I haven't lost any weight, pounds-wise, but my clothing feels looser. I don't know why, but I wanted to mention it in case I fall into a sinkhole or something. "Well, Patty didn't stop-up that sinkhole like we expected... has she lost weight?"  No, apparently not.

Today felt worse than any of the other days that I've complained about through this blog. The pain was exacerbated by the fact I couldn't take any pain meds. I went through the grocery store almost on autopilot. There were a few times that I slowed down so much that I had to tell myself to keep moving. "If you fall down here, it will be embarrassing and they'll probably call an ambulance and you can't afford that. Plus, you have dairy in your cart. It'll go bad if you fall down here..."

I rationalize with myself. But I really did just want to stop walking and let gravity have her dirty way with me. She's pulling down on me awfully hard, she must want me closer to the ground. That's the only thing that makes sense.

I have no idea if gravity is a dude or a chick. Either way, Gravity is a bitch.

Here's hoping that I feel good enough to enjoy Saturday. My part of the red dress thing is that I'm wearing a skirt that I've never worn in public. And it shows my legs. I haven't shown my legs in a skirt since before 2004. How do I know that? Because in December of 2004, I started having issues with edema. My legs still swell up. Sometimes quite bad, sometimes not at all. I'm going to wear that red skirt with a red shirt and I'm going to rock it as hard as I can.

Right now, my only issue is footwear. Because of the pain and edema, I can't wear sandals. All I have are different styles of Doc Martens boots.

One good thing happened today. I unintentionally had a "Fro Knows Photo" theme going on with my 365s this week. Monday, I was wearing my favorite "I shoot RAW" T-shirt.  Tuesday, I put on my new "I shoot RAW" hoodie (Mother's Day gift to myself) for the photo. Wednesday, I was wearing my "FroNation" T-shirt (I have seven "I shoot RAW" shirts and the FroNation shirt as well as the new hoodie).  As I started my drag-shuffle to go lay down, I remembered I hadn't done my 365. So, I picked up my camera and grabbed my "I shoot RAW" bracelets (they come with the special deal orders. I gave one away this weekend). And since I was laying all starfished in bed, naked under the fleece blankets, alternately dying of the fire in my skin and shivering from the chill I got when I uncovered, I got artsy with my 365 and managed to stay within my unintentional Fro Knows Photo theme.




So at least there's that... and my pain meds tonight DID take the edge off my pain. Here's hoping I can get through tomorrow and enjoy Saturday.

Who am I kidding? Pain or no pain, I enjoy taking photos. I just really want to wear my Dr Martens Triumphs instead of the sandals.

Platitudes are nothing like Platypus. Don't be fooled!

"What doesn't kill you..."

"[your version of "God"] doesn't give you more than you can handle..."

"You're such a strong person..."

I really like platypuses. Platypi. That's the best of the platypus- because you get pie too!

I bitch about the pain a lot in this blog. I mean, that's what I started it for- so others out there would know they aren't alone. After searching and searching for medical facts and finding TONS of blogs and not so many articles, I realized that most of those blogs were trying to hide themselves in work clothes. "I have fibro, I'm not a doctor, but I copy/pasted this from WEBMD and I hope it helps..." And there is a place for blogs like that, because I did actually find links to legit medical sites where I was able to gather my information.

But, there were very few "This is happening to me, it might be happening to you, and it sucks. It sucks so hard that you'd think it was getting paid for sucking. Goddamn hooker of a disease" blogs. And very, very few (or not any, actually) that used humor. I'm no comedian, but I like to cushion bullshit with humor. Because this disease is such bullshit. Stupid and annoying and fickle- like that twelve year old with ADHD who didn't get her midday meds and now she's hot-glued flower petals to the cat and keeps screaming: "ART! I MADE ART!" at the windows in the house. And then we have to say: "Caitlin, honey, the cat's name isn't 'Art', it's Mister Fluffykins McCutesyface."  Also, platypuses are awesome.

I bitch a lot about the pain and the aching and the itchy skin and the total exhaustion. A lot. But this is my blog, not yours, so stop trying to rearrange the furniture! I like the sofa where it is, goddammit. But I realized that I never bitched about something that goes along with the pain. Weakness.

I don't mean the weakness that makes you cry and then people pet you on the head and hope you don't wipe your nose on their sleeve while you cling to them and sob. But that's totally what you're doing. I mean physical weakness.

I've compared this aching thing to a post-workout pain, then recanted and said, "Nuh-uh, this shit is totes diff and whatevs." (I'm paraphrasing). But that next-day-I-tried-to-be-Arnold-because-a-girl-was-there pain? It feels somewhat good and you can still function. And while it hurts to lift that Diet Coke can to drink it (why you'd drink Diet Coke is totally your thing, I don't judge), you can still do it. You can lift that can, pick up a stack of dinner plates, pull open a door.

So, not only are the muscles burning in agony and feeling like they're being pulled off your bones, you're weak. You're a delicate flower and you can't lift up that Diet Coke can without spilling half of it. And that shit will eat through you clothes faster than the "Aliens" alien's acid blood will tear through your pretty face. Weakness. I can't lift anything much heavier than my camera (and when that gets to heavy for me to lift, I may as well be dead) when I'm in pain. And I don't mean the weakness from: "OW! THIS HURTS! I WILL SET THIS DOWN!" like you get from back pain. There's a special place in hell for back pain. Its really close to the knee pain hell. That's not weakness, that's common motherfucking sense. "It hurts, don't lift that day bed."

This is like muscle failure weakness. I grasp a door handle and my hand is too weak to keep my grip. I pick up that Diet Coke can to throw it as far from me as I can, but it slips through my fingers because I don't have the strength to grip it and now it's ruined my favorite Docs. Some days, my muscles feel so weak that I can't grasp the prescription bottle to dig out the pain meds I need. And it isn't just my hands. There are some days I can barely walk up the stairs. But I do, I pull myself along like a pathetic mountain climber whining about the lack of oxygen before passing out and being left for dead by the sherpa he hired.

"But wait, Lady Platypi," I can hear you say, "How do you know this is related to the fibro pain and not just, you know, you being a punk-ass bitch? I mean, do you even lift, bro?"

"Sit the hell down, Chauncy!" is what I say, because this will be on the test later and the final exam is like, 80% of your grade and I need you to focus, goddammit! Also, your name is Chauncy now. Get used to it.

No, this isn't just me being weaker in the sense that I'm no longer that spring chicken who shows off her gams to the fellas. I know this because on good days, I can pick up a small car and throw it at the owner. "You left your Hot Wheels here, smartass!" and they shout back, "Who are you!? Put my car down!"

On good days, I've pushed a full-size Chevrolet Silverado out of the mud. I've opened doors and thrown Diet Coke cans. I'm like the female Hulk, but without the steroid abuse and CGI effects.

So, while you're sitting there and shouting at your monitor: "I LOVE YOUR MOTHERFUCKING BLOG, BUT WHY AM I SO WEAK MY KITTEN KICKED MY ASS?!", now you know. With the pain comes a weakness. And because this is fibrofuckingmyalgia, it doesn't happen every time. No, that would make too much sense. The weakness comes and goes like the pain and numbness and exhaustion.

And because you stuck it out with me through this, here's something pretty that I did this week. You earned it, my Precious Platypus.

Mutant powers aren't all they're cracked up to be...

I've said it a few times- my superhero power is fast healing. That accounts for my ugly scars and the fact my knee healed so quickly after my knee replacement that the doctor had to knock me out and bend my knee for me. He described it as: "Snap, crackle, and pop" as the adhesions (sort of like scar tissue) were broken up as he forced my knee to bend to 90° (up till that point, it had been going to around 70° with help, 50-ish in its normal state).

I've had a hellish week. Maybe longer, I don't even know anymore. I trudge on because what else can I do? On the days I don't have to leave the house, I take my Vicodin on a six-hour cycle. The days I have to leave the house, I don't.

You all know the drill... aching muscles, focused pain in different parts. On top of all that, my skin is aching. The shower hurts. The water hitting me feels like hot needles jamming into my skin. I can't tolerate the tiny dogs stepping on me. It feels like someone is jamming a rod into my muscle when teeny-tiny, four-pounds-on-a-good-day Beefy steps onto my lap. I've been swelling for over a week now, too. My legs, ankles, and feet. I don't know if I'm swelling anywhere else because when my skin hurts like this, I wear my huge clothes. Mostly the 4x and 5x "I shoot RAW" T-shirts. 3X is loose, but not loose enough. And don't even come at me with a 2X. That barely fits over the boobshelf on a good day. I sleep naked (sorry for that mental image), but between  the "get out of bed" and "take a shower, get dressed" stages of my day, I have to wear something. Since I used to exercise in the mornings, I'd put on sweats and a loose T-shirt. I still do. Except now its yoga pants and a huge T-shirt. (mostly, black yoga pants and my blue 5x "I shoot RAW" T-shirt). Today, after my shower, I put on a different pair of black yoga pants and my maroon 5x "I shoot RAW" T-shirt along with my black, fleece-lined hoodie. I was going to change before I sat down to write this, but jeez, why bother? I'd be switching a pair of yoga pants for an older pair of yoga pants and a huge T-shirt for a slightly more-worn huge T-shirt.

My hands are aching, not like arthritis (thank fuck, because that shit hurts more than the fibro-ache), but when they get to the point of being so sore that I have to rub them, it feels like I'm rubbing the skin from my bones. The pain in the muscles and tendons in my hands and fingers feels like it goes right through the bones. I assume because my finger bones are closer to the surface than say... my ass, I mean my hip. Not my ass... that cushions my hips, but there's a lot of ass between the skin and the bone. Or something.

We had rain and cold all week. I assume that's what caused this flareup. Whatever it was, it can just fucking stop now. Seriously. I'm done with you. I need to go to Home Depot, goddammit and I can't do that if you're going to attack me like an angry, yet lazy The Blob. That's his real name, right? The Blob. I mean, just "Blob" is a little familiar and I'm not going to call him "Mister Blob" because fuck him, he's a blob.

Now this is going to take a random jump, because I had to stop typing for a few minutes.

I really want to sit on the sofa and watch a movie (I don't know what, we have tons, even a few I haven't watched yet), but I know what it will feel like when I try to get up after two hours of sitting there. It will hurt. It will hurt so much that I can't find adequate words to describe how much it would hurt. And right now, after hurting so much for so long, I don't want any extra hurt.

I mentioned taking the Vicodin on a six hour cycle- I should mention also that it doesn't take the pain away. It takes the edge off the pain. It makes me hurt a little less so I don't end up crying. Although, at this point, I just might put in a really sappy movie and just let myself cry at that so I can feel better after. Although, I'm not sure I'd feel better, because I'd have that pesky "sitting on the sofa, can't get up" pain.

Here is my normal pain. Normal, manageable, totally go without Vicodin all day.




This is the "I just got up from the sofa" pain. The kind of pain that makes me exclaim swear words. The kind that brings me to tears.



Does that help? Do you get what I'm saying? Are you picking up what I'm putting down? Are you smelling what that rhino is cooking?

No, wait... that's not quite right. I don't think you can really grasp the whole thing here. So, I made this in Photoshop.



Ah, there we go... that's more like it.

All I've done so far was bitch about the pain. I haven't even whined about the exhaustion. Well, I really can't. I've had some days when I'm so tired I can barely sit up and I've had other days when I'm fine. The one constant in all these days is the pain. The Disabled Guy called me today about something trivial (the title of a movie) and I tried to explain to him that I wasn't thinking clearly because of all the pain and Vicodin. He didn't care. He just wanted to know what the name of a movie was. Spoiler alert- "Planet Terror" from the "Grindhouse" double feature.

I have to go now. I made a strawberry cheesecake because I had too many strawberries and had to do something with them before they went bad. What? That's a perfectly reasonable thing to do an hour after you take Vicodin. Also, this happened today. 

What does this feel like?

I get asked that more than I can remember. Or maybe I only hear it in my mind. Who knows... But, you're here and reading this now, so let's discuss how fibrofuckingmyalgia feels. And I know that's what I whine about on this blog a lot. But in a general sense, how does this stupid thing feel...

I've compared it to being thrown from a horse, hit by a truck (I've never actually been hit by a truck, except when I was in another vehicle, which isn't the same thing), and more often than not, I compare the overall feeling of pain and tightness to that of a heavy workout. Like, you know when you work out after not working out? And the next day, your muscles are tired and they're sore? But it feels good, sort of. In an accomplished way. Fibro is a lot like that, without the accomplishment.

Last week, I was forced to change my description.  I had a product gig (in case you don't know, I take product photos for a local clothing designer, for their website/catalog). And I had twelve products to shoot (this time, sandals). Twelve sandals, six photos each (front, back, side, side, three-quarter front, and top). And for each photo, I had to adjust the sandal... straps, buckles... And these sandals are NICE. The leather is so soft that it doesn't stand up on its own for a photo. I have to use tricks and things to prop up bits here and there.

So, there I was, standing, then sitting to take the photo, then standing, then sitting, then standing, then sitting (I have a folding table that I take my product photos on, about the height of a card table, but half as wide). For more than seventy-two photos (because I kept seventy-two, I probably took 80 or more). Later that evening, every time I moved, my thigh muscles screamed out in pain.

It felt GOOD. The pain was that post-workout pain and it really did feel good. I poked at my thigh. Ouch. Ha! Poke... poke... I'd flex my leg muscles just to make that pain happen. It felt that good.

The next morning? Oh, here we are... back to the fibro pain. And yet, that pain in my thighs still felt like post-workout pain. (I really do miss working out). So, fibrofuckingmyalgia feels nothing like workout pain. And it doesn't feel like: "...an all-over feeling of tightness..." that the TV drug ads tell us it feels like as the physically fit woman reaches over and gently squeezes her shoulder.

Yes, there is tightness. But it isn't mild. It feels as though your muscles are being pulled apart. Pulled  slowly away from the joints. A steady, slow, agonizing tightly-pulled feeling. And you know that feeling you get after you, say, hold your two-year-old toddler too long? You're standing, he's bored, you pick him up but then end up holding him for too long? That tired-muscle feeling... happens all the time. Every day. That's what I felt just now when I paused in my typing to pick up a six pound Chihuahua who wanted some attention because that's what six pound Chis do (want attention). Six pounds and I felt like I'd been holding a toddler while waiting in a slow line at the DMV.

The pain isn't just all-over and tight. There are "hot spots". I've mentioned a few of mine before. My hip muscle. It used to be my right one. Now the left one hurts, but not the right one. And my foot and ankle. I spent almost six months with a pain in my ankle and into my foot that felt like a severe sprain. Every day. My hands from time to time cause me a lot of pain. My shoulder joint- right side. I have tendinitis in my shoulders, so it usually feels like a terrible tendinitis flareup.

And, of course, the skin. Itchy, itchy skin. But not a normal itch, more like a "oh, I've burst into flames after stumbling into an itchy convention" kind of itch. Under the skin, painful, feels hot. I've wanted to drag a vegetable peeler across my skin. How much worse could it feel?

Today was about a six or seven on the pain scale. I managed not to fall asleep for no reason, so that's good. But gravity has been especially harsh lately and because the weather is changing (again, still, I can't keep track), I'm treated to the fire skin.

That's what it feels like. Sometimes. Other times, it is much worse. And even other times, it is much better. But mostly, fibrofuckingmyalgia is full of suck and it has nothing good and fun. Well, except me... because I'm awesome.

My Self-portrait was a mini-novel or at least a blog post

You all know I do a 365days self-portrait thing over on Flickr. I'm about a hundred days till the end of my third year of taking a photo of myself, every day. Haven't missed a day yet. Anyway...

I was feeling semi-creative today, somewhat inspired by the "Costumes" theme in the weekly Fro Knows Photo weekend assignments. Obviously I'm not going to submit this photo, because it's terrible! I should have taken more time with it or something, I don't know. In fact, as I type this, I already know of a way I could have done it better. Lotta good that does me NOW, but let's move on.

This is a copy/paste of what I wrote in the "description" part of the photo.


I've been living with chronic pain for almost ten years. At least, I think its been almost ten years. I can't remember what it was like to not be in pain somehow. For three years, it was mostly knee pain- well, it was knee pain that hurt the most and muted the other pain.

But, I wake up every day and I lay in bed for a moment. I start at my feet and I flex my muscles- little by little. Feet, calves, thighs, hips... all the way up. It hurts every damn morning, but it hurts in varying degrees. Sometimes, it barely registers, so I get out of bed rather quickly. Some days it hurts so bad that it takes me ten minutes to go from laying in bed to standing on my feet. If you don't think that's a long time, just sit there, time yourself, for ten minutes. Some days the pain is so bad that I have to hold onto things to walk out of my room. The bed, the wall, the dresser, the door frame.

So, every day, with this chronic pain, I have to decide what my day will be like. Will I let the pain win? Will I take pain meds in the daytime to get through it? Will I be sad and desolate (the face in my hand- you can't really see it, but I was trying to be sad) or will I plaster on a smile and have a good day, no matter how much I hurt?

I usually opt for the smile. Some of my 365 photos were "faked" on really bad days. I have a fake smile or my smile is convincing, but you can see it in my eyes. I can fool you- most of you are strangers and don't actually know me. But there are a few out there who can tell. Even with the smile, they know I feel awful.

I try not to let it get me down, but some days are hard. Today was one of those days. I set my alarm for an hour early so I could try and photograph the meteor shower. But, I had a hard time falling asleep and then I had a hard time staying asleep. I ended up sleeping through that alarm and waking up twenty minutes later than I normally would. It was a five minute climb out of bed day.

I took some pain meds and a muscle relaxer when I got downstairs. I was in a crappy mood, too. Just bleh. Everything annoyed me- and I mean everything. The way my clothes felt on my skin, the way my dogs were excited to see me, the comments on Facebook, everything. I took a very short and not-at-all-good nap and felt slightly better. But things still irritated me. The disabled guy was acting mildly jerkish and I snapped at him (granted, he was being a jerk, but he didn't need me snapping at him).

So, I plastered on my smile, put on my boots and took my camera out. I took a bunch of photos along the river and ended up taking a bit of a hike at one point (I ended up sweaty and got mud on my boots). And I got some decent photos.

Most days, I choose that smile. And if I'm in such a bad way that nothing else works, I do a little photographic therapy. I still feel terrible. My resting pain level is about a seven on that one to ten scale. When I go to stand up, my legs are so sore and stiff that I can't start walking right away. And my hip, I can't even describe THAT pain. Its definitely a ten.

But, I'm in a good mood. I got out and took photos and people like them. I read some articles on Cracked that made me laugh. And as I type this, I'm an hour away from taking my next dose of pain meds.

Choose your mask well. And do a better job at Photoshop than I did. :)


My pain meds aren't living up to their name or their titles (I've referred to them on Facebook as "Sir Vicodin" and "Lord Cyclobenzaprine"). I still feel awful and moving around is just terrible. And my damn hip, I sure wish I knew what was causing that to hurt so much. I'm just relieved to know it isn't arthritis and I won't end up needing a hip replacement. Here's the photo from today- Day 251 of my third 365days project:



Anyway, I did get a whole bunch of good photos today. And, here are a few... if you're on my Facebook, then you're seeing these shots again. Sorry. I drove around to various parks so I could safely park my truck and get out to walk around. When I was almost home, I drove by a dry creek bed that I've always been meaning to stop at and photograph. So, I turned around, parked in a business parking lot (they were closed, it was Sunday) and proceeded to hike over to the creek bed- which was muddy, not dry- and take several photos. I ended up with mud on my boots (as they are intended to get on them) and sweaty from the walking and climbing over and around the creek bed. I really miss hiking. Now, if you click on any of these photos, it'll take you to my Flickr and you can look at any of the photos from today (or, well, ever... since that's where my photos are).

I survived two days at a ren faire only to have my ass kicked by the weather

The Janesville Renaissance Faire was fantastic. It was good fun and seeing all our friends (well, our local friends) again was great. On Saturday, I had to work from Noon till 6 PM- which works out, because we go back on Sunday and I spend all the money I made back at the faire. The people who read this are also on my Facebook page and already know the news.

On Saturday morning, I threw my gear at the booth where I do readings and went in search of friends. I found them easily, since we're friends with a lot of cast members at Bristol. And I love the fact that we can have a conversation and they never break character. While I was talking to a couple of them (who happen to be husband and wife- in real life, not in character), my daughters and one daughter's boyfriend showed up. They were recording me... long story short (and the videos are on Facebook), they gave me my Mother's Day present (a week late, but that's awesome). They wanted to do it in public and the faire was great because we were among friends.

What was my present?

If you don't already know- brace yourself... my kids pooled their money and got me a Nikon D5100 DSLR camera. Not just the camera and the usual swag- but also a zoom lens and a macro lens. So I've gone a little crazy with the photo-taking this week. I have the most awesome kids in the world.

And, if you want to see it- here are most of the photos from
~the Janesville Ren Faire~. Almost all the photos taken on Sunday were taken with the Nikon. And, here's a link to a set where I put all my Nikon photos, except the ren faire ones.

~Random Nikon D5100 photos~

Now, moving on...

I ended up with bruises on the arches of my feet, from all the standing and walking I did on Sunday. Monday, I was fine, just a wee bit tired. Tuesday, the exhaustion hit me. But, still not much pain. It seemed that I survived the first renaissance faire of the season mostly unscathed by fibro pain. Huzzah.

I've had a general all-over aching for over a week though. I'd mark it as a level five, sometimes an eight, but mostly very tolerable. And late Wednesday afternoon, it got worse. And Thursday was dreadful. I thought that the ren faire took its sweet-ass time getting to me, but it turned out that the weather was changing. We went from mostly sunny, relatively dry weather to impending storms.

That dreadful aching escalated into a full-blown flareup. And while I have learned I can deal with the pain, the total exhaustion is another matter. This fibro thing, when it wants to, can beat me down and kick my ass like Dalton cleaning up a small-town dive bar. But only if Dalton were a whiny jerk who beats people half to death with a wet swimming pool noodle. One would think that if a beating is so pathetic as to be compared to a swimming pool noodle that it isn't that bad. Did you see where I referenced Dalton? Its a savage beating. Its like I blew up the barn he lived in and then challenged him to a fight to the death in front of a lake where we both have to had to end up shirtless and sweaty...

Wait a minute, I seem to have lost my train of thought. It had something to do with shirtless and sweaty men, right? Strange... this is my fibro blog.

Oh, right... pain. Always with the pain. Yesterday (that would be Friday, May 25th for those of you who aren't reading this in a reasonable time frame) was particularly rough. Along with the all-over pain, which had increased in intensity, and the exhaustion, which was so delightfully nagging, my attitude took a plummet. I hate it when that happens. I don't like feeling down. Of course, I don't stay down for long. But the fact I fell into that funk is bad enough.

Saturday morning (today, that is), I woke to a wonderful thunderstorm that is actually still going on as I type this. So the pain I'm in is from the weather. I've got shooting pains down my arms, in the muscles and it feels like I'm developing tendinitis in my other shoulder. And my skin feels like its on fire- not just itchy with the thousands of tiny, hairy-legged spiders, but also hot.

What I want to know is, if I feel like I'm about to burst into flames, why don't I have any superpowers? What doesn't kill us makes us stronger, right? I get told that a lot. So, with everything that hasn't killed me yet, I should be a goddamn superhero. Where's my skintight body suit? What's my emblem going to be? Where's my cape?

No, wait... scratch the cape. No capes. They never work out.

And I leave you with this... a photo taken of me on Sunday, at the Faire, by my lovely and talented friend- The Duchess. I'm cheesing it up with my cheesiest smile. My camera is in the basket on my arm. And the wind made my hat SO POOFY.

So much achy whining- today was a daytime Vicodin Day

I joined a group on Flickr called "We're Here!". Members choose a day of the month and they set a theme. Then everyone in the group does a photo in relation to that theme and posts it in the "We're Here!" group and a group related to the theme that the theme-chooser found or is already a part of- it isn't as complicated as I'm making it sound. Its a good idea, because I'm in my third year of doing the 365 self-portraits. I haven't missed a day yet. And having someone else decide my theme for me takes some of the pressure off. Not that I was ever under pressure, of course.

I have a couple Flickr friends that are in the group and through the urging of one of them, I joined the group. I didn't think I'd participate all that much, but so far I have till today (today's theme is "facedown for my birthday" for a member's birthday. I can't do it- its called "planking"). Why am I telling you all this? Because the "Water, Water Everywhere" theme triggered a flareup. I was going to try and get a shot of me dumping water over my head, but it didn't go as well as I'd planned. I filled a gallon jug with water and went outside. I held my camera at arm's length and went to lift the jug. And I couldn't. The gallon of water was too heavy for me to lift easily.

So I had to dump half of it out before I could attempt to dump it on my head. I didn't get the shot I wanted. What I did get was absolutely drenched. Soaking wet. And that's where the problems started. No, no, the water didn't hurt me- nothing as silly as that. But, it was chilly outside because we've had a very weird Spring so far. And with the chill in the air and the wind blowing (we've gone from having a heat index to a wind chill to a heat index again), the cold settled into my muscles. I took a few photos while outside, even tried dumping a bottle of water on my head (shaking it out over my head). It was cloudy, so my camera wasn't firing as quickly as I'd hoped. The photos look a lot like this one:




My end result turned out to be a macro of a large droplet of water falling off the end of a soaking wet strand of hair. My face was out of focus in the background, but my eye is in focus, and upside-down, in the droplet.




As artistically rewarding as the photo turned out, I was- within an hour- fully into an all-over body aching flareup. I wanted to smack myself in the head for doing it to myself, but it hurt to lift my arm. I've had a lingering aching since the day I took those photos. The mornings are terrible for me, so much so that I keep sleeping in. Of course, it doesn't help that I go to bed and then lay awake for an hour before finally dropping off. Today dawned as an itchy and sore skin day and by 10 AM, I took two Vicodin. And you all know how much I hate taking pain meds in the daytime. I've been under some extra stress in the last couple weeks too. I'm so over the stress now. Really, I am. There's no cure for the stress right now, but I'm so looking forward to the ren faire. I've talked up the faire to so many people- both online and in real life- that I think I should get a commission on the tickets sold.

Janesville Renaissance Faire is March 19th and 20th. Bristol's 25th season starts July 7th and runs through Labor Day (Labor Day is their closing day). You should come out. You'd enjoy it. At Bristol, if you want to find me, you know where I'll be.

Oh, you don't? Well, click here for a hint...

I took a walk today

After last week's zombification after taking a midday pill, I went back to taking just two pills- one in the morning, one in the evening. Today (a week later), I took another midday pill. It didn't send me into the walking-dead mode that it did last week, but I could feel it. I wouldn't drive at this point, taking that midday pill. But I did go for a walk.

I have this great idea for a photo. It probably isn't even all that original, but to do it, I have to drive over to the place to do the photo. And one thing led to another and my truck was blocked in the driveway. To hell with it, I figured, might as well try the midday pill again.

Then, for some unknown reason, I put my boots on and decided to go for a walk. I took my camera, of course, but I didn't take a lot of photos. Overall, the walk was okay. It was uphill most of the way. And there was hardly any clear concrete. The city uses a snowblower on the public sidewalks and the neighbors between here didn't go down to the concrete after the last snowfall. But it wasn't bad. My feet hurt most of the time, of course. I got to see a goshawk attacking some smaller birds- I assume they were starlings because they were noisy and all moved in unison till the goshawk came around. I couldn't get any photos of the goshawk because he was just that fast. By the time I had my camera out and turned on, he was done terrorizing them. (and of course, I didn't want to carry my camera in my hand as I walked because if I fell down, I wouldn't want to damage the camera or myself in an attempt at not damaging the camera).

I paced myself and took short steps. Quite a difference from the long-striding, fast-pace walking I did not so long ago. Back when I could slam out four miles in about an hour and ten minutes then do a half hour of yoga. *heavy sigh* The good old days.

I made it home unscathed and a little chilly. The wind was at my back on the way out and it was blowing in my face on the way back. But I was glad for that because then I didn't get overheated. Of course, that would have been difficult what with the 15° Fahrenheit temperature (not including whatever the wind chill was at the time).

About two hours later, I ended up taking a Vicodin (just one) because I felt my muscles tightening up. But still, not bad. Also, the midday Gabapentin did cause a little tiredness, but not the falling-over-tiredness I had last week.

So, here we are, about seven hours later and I'm stiff. I feel like I just pulled a sled over the river and through the woods to grandmother's house. Interestingly enough, I did walk halfway to my parents' house... and it was over the hill. I didn't get anywhere close to the river though.

But I digress. Here are the photos I took today. Enjoy.

This was about halfway up the hill. I live down the hill and about a block to the right. You can't see my house anymore. The Goshawk Incident happened across the street, in those twiggy bushes on the right side of the photo.



This one is almost to the top- almost because at the top you can't really see the hill at all. There's a tree in the distance between the two trees closer to where I was standing... that's where the first photo was taken.



At the top, I was greeted with the sight of not only flat ground, but the city was piling snow up in the parking lot of the park. I'm in a couple of snowplow-centric groups on Flickr, so I take photos of snowplows and other snow removal equipment when I see it. I don't get the appeal of it, but I guess people don't get the appeal of what I take photos of either, so who am I to judge? Anyway, I took some photos of the front-loader that was piling up the snow. A couple of city plow trucks came and went while I was walking (to dump snow) and one of them apparently recognized me from the other times I snapped photos, because he waved at me as he drove by while I was going downhill.



Today would have been a great day to get the photo I have the idea for because it was snowing.



And this is my Day 363 of 365 (yup, I'm almost done with my first year). From where I'm standing, the plow activity was happening to the left of the photo and far behind me (yay for a zoom). I put my sunglasses up on my head to show my eyes because I've been curtly informed that hiding my eyes behind sunglasses is strictly forbidden!




I took this on the way back down the hill (one of two, actually). Those leaves have hung on through several snowstorms and some crazy high wind conditions. Hang on a little while longer, guys, Spring's a-comin'!



Oh, there's my house. I'm almost home. My feet were killing me almost the entire time. The snow on either side of the sidewalk was varying heights from knee to mid-torso. The drifts were crazy in that last big storm. Today was nothing, a mere dusting. But it looked pretty as it fell.



I hope to do this three times a week. I have my two-year follow-up with my knee surgeon in about a month's time. It would be nice to have something to show for all his work. It was the surgery (we assume) that triggered the fibromyalgia flareup that was too huge to ignore. So I should thank him for that because had I not gotten my knee replaced, I might still be undiagnosed and suffering. And if I do this three times a week, at my next fibro follow-up, I'll have a significant amount of weight loss to show for it.

Also, if I can keep this up and increase (eventually) to every day... this summer at the ren faire will be, literally, a walk in the park.