Faire Day! Flare Day.

So, we're just past the fifth weekend of Bristol's season. We have nine weekends total, nineteen days (because Labor Day Monday is our closing day). And, not much has changed since my previous post about the left half of my left foot. I've been plodding along and the worst part of it is that the humidity has been kicking my butt. I've been trying to get to other shows, but I always seem to need to sit down more. And I lose the motivation to slog up that hill to stand up and take photos when I'm already so wonderfully sitting down somewhere else. But, I have four more weekends to motivate my fat ass up that hill.

"What about the title?" I can hear you asking. Well, Sunday morning, I woke up having a flareup. The weird part of it is that I didn't realize I was having a flareup till I was halfway there. I mean, I knew I was in pain, but I didn't realize it was flareup pain right away.

I spent all of Sunday, limp-dragging my left foot around behind me. Sit down, stand up, limp-drag-walk-limp-drag-walk. Okay, so maybe "drag" is a bit of an exaggeration. But I was definitely limping and I was walking much slower than usual. The only thing I can think that caused the flareup was the intense humidity. I wasn't itchy or anything, but goddamn was there pain. All over muscle pain that seemed to radiate from my joints. And from my bones in general. Even parts that didn't have joints. Like my collarbones. And my shins. Well, just- you know- all over pain.

I did survive the Faire Day Flare Day, of course. I mean, I wouldn't be here typing this if I hadn't. Monday (which is yesterday as I type this), around 2 in the afternoon, the pain in my left foot became so intense I had to take off my shoes. The whole bottom of my foot felt like it was swollen and bruised. It felt that way to the touch too, but it didn't look swollen (or have any actual bruising). I tried icing it, but it only worked for those moments when the ice was actually touching my foot. It was a lot better today- I lasted till 4 PM before I had to take my shoes off. (in both instances, by "shoes", I mean "Dr Martens boots"). I felt a lot better on Monday, compared to Sunday. And today, aside from the lingering aches from my "hot spots" (today's are my left hip and my right shoulder), I feel like my usual level of aliveness since the Generic Cymbalta started working. So far, so good.

Even in flareup pain, being a faire is a whole lot better than sitting at home. I've said it many times- I could sit at home and be miserable and in pain, or I can go to faire and be NOT-miserable, but still in pain. The choice between wallowing in my stupid disease or hanging out with beautiful people doing awesome things... c'mon. Faire is a remedy for fibro. Trust me, I've tested that theory.

Since it is only Tuesday, I haven't finished my Week 5 photos from the weekend. But, here's the Flickr link to the 2015 Bristol photos. Check back, because I add the photos on Fridays. I will, however, leave you with a bunch of my 365s from Bristol.

I see what you did there, Fibro...

I've been doing that thing I do where I plan on updating the blog, but then I don't because I forget or I procrastinate till...  I forget.

I had a bit of a flare up on a perfectly wonderful, sunny, gorgeous day. It was 65° Fahrenheit and just lovely. But it was a weak-ass flareup. It was mostly fatigue with a bit of pain. The morning dose of Vicodin took the edge off the pain. The fatigue stuck around and got worse as the day wore on, like a normal bout of flareup fatigue.

And I didn't really know why, so I checked the weather forecast. Well, let me show you a photographic representation. I've been doing the 365 self-portrait project since 2010. I've recently started my sixth year. I'm in a group on Flickr that calls itself: "We're Here". We pick a theme for a day and then we "invade" a group with our photos of that theme. The theme for that day- Sunday, March 22nd, was "Lazy Photography" and the description was: "The great photographers venture out into the world, fearless and tireless. They search for opportunities, and even create opportunities. god bless 'em. But this group is for when you'd rather park yourself on the couch or on the porch and wait for an opportunity to come to you. and if it doesn't come...just take a picture of your foot." 

I'm a literal smartass, so that is exactly what I did- I took a photo of my foot on the swing on my back porch (which is a massive wooden deck, actually).



And, this photo is less than 24 hours later-



Is it any wonder I was having a flareup?!

Yesterday, I was having one of those low-grade flareup feelings. I felt like crap, but I could at least sit down and stand up when I needed to... And I had to go to the store. I managed to live through it, the fatigue kept trying to pull me down to the floor, but I managed to get home.

A few hours later, my son came home from whatever it is he does when he's not home and not at work. He had two of his friends with him and the girl he's dating- I'm not sure if we're calling her his girlfriend yet or not, but you know... Anyway- the kids- and by "kids", I mean "adults in their early 20s" wanted me to take some photos for them. My son rides a sport bike. You and I probably know them better as "crotch rockets", but they don't like it when you call them that. So, of course I said I'd do it and we left the house to do some photos on a newly constructed dead-end street in an industrial area (no traffic). The girl didn't want to be in any of the photos so she and I sort of hung out while the guys did their drive-bys so I could do panning shots and so on. During the course of our conversations, I told her this about my fibro- "I could either sit at home and feel like shit, or I can come out here, take some cool photos of you guys and still feel like shit. So, I'm here." (and I said that's how I survive the faire on flareup days. I can sit at home and feel bad or I can at least be somewhere fun with great people). I spent a couple hours on my feet, walking around this dead end street (it was a weird dead end, the long street gave way to a 90° turn and that part ended about a half mile up. But there were no buildings around it, just an open field on one side, a highway at the end, and a pheasant farm on the other side).

Then there's today. Today, at 4 AM, my body decided to wake me up. Wake me up out of a dead sleep. Because why the fuck not? I stayed in bed till 430, trying to trick myself into falling back to sleep, but it didn't work. Fibrofuckingmyalgia will not listen to reason. And when I tried to move, my body was quite sure that was a bad idea. It took me ten minutes to get out of bed and get downstairs. After I did my morning stuff (breakfast, reading news, catching up on Facebook, trash day, dogs out), I went back to bed to try and take a nap. It was a crappy, less-restful 90 minutes of semi-consciousness. And today is the first of the month, so I had bill-paying errands to do. I struggled for everything today. Showering, getting dressed, going outside, trying to get into the vehicle (mid-size pickup truck), standing at the bank, walking. Breathing. Blergh.

I took my usual morning dose of Vicodin. I did all those things and at 2 PM, I took two more Vicodin. And about 45 minutes later, I felt the edge slide off the pain. I was still in pain, but at least I didn't have to struggle to get up out of my chair. And here's why-

Tomorrow's got rain (a 90-goddamn-percent chance of rain), then we just drop all the warmth and go back to cold temps. For a freakin' day. The earlier weather (that I didn't screen cap) was predicting snow on Friday, so I suppose I should be glad that we're just getting rain tomorrow and cold on Friday.

So, the Generic Cymbalta isn't an all-out miracle, but damn, there are a lot more good days than bad now. I'm going to accept that. Because a little flareup that goes away after a couple of hours is doable. And today's shitty flareup? Well, it sucks, but it also has a clear reason (the weather) and I feel like there's an end to it. Compared to last Spring when I had a "flareup" that lasted for months- I'll take it. But I see what you did there, Fibrofuckingmyalgia... April 1st- haha, sucks to be you, human! BOOM. Flareup on April Fool's Day.

And because I know you're wondering, here are a few shots from yesterday with the guys.




This one is called "Girls on Instagram be like..."











This is yesterday's 365. I had Andrew (kid in red) hold the camera because he was the tallest. My son is in the black helmet behind me with the girl he's been seeing, and Reese is behind them. And I am woefully underdressed for this party.

What a refreshing change of pace!

Wisconsin weather was doing the usual thing it does this time of year and it triggered a bit of a flareup. What's the thing it does this time of year? That would be shooting up 30° (Fahrenheit) in a 36 hour period, erratic humidity, and then dropping to below-freezing at night. But, the flareup was more of the "drag me to the floor" exhaustion than pain. There was pain, but not as much as a "normal" (haha!) flareup.

"But wait," you say, "You said something was refreshing... well, what was it? WHAT WAS SO GOL'DURNED REFRESHING?!"

Calm down, Shouty Pants. The refreshing bit was arthritis. Yeah. My right hand was sore and a bit achy. ACHY. I had arthritis pain in my hand! Just your normal, run-of-the-mill arthritis pain in my knuckles! My fingers were a bit stiff too. STIFFNESS and PAIN NOT ASSOCIATED with fibro! I was so happy, I almost cried. But instead, I had ice cream.

I'm always amazed when something feels normal. I spend a lot of days weighing my energy levels against the pain/lack-of-pain and how much I need to do. But this last little flareup, I sat down in the living room, on the sofa, covered in Chis (say that out loud!) and found myself rubbing the knuckles on my right hand and my brain didn't automatically go "FUCKIN' FIBRO!" My brain said: "What the hell, man? Arthritis? Why the hell- OH MY GOD! THIS IS ARTHRITIS!"

I tell ya, man, it's the little things.

So, the new medicine seems to be working (as long as I don't fuck with things!) and aside from the mind-numbing exhaustion, the flareups haven't been terrible. I'm also still having pain in my foot from the plantar fasciitis, but it comes and goes. I also still have neuropathy (painful numbness) in that foot, too... but dammit, let's stop with the negativity.

I've got 67 days till the Janesville Renaissance Faire.

I've got 123 days till the start of the Bristol Renaissance Faire.

There are 207 days till the Stronghold Olde English Faire (and my birthday!).

And 214 days till A Gathering of Rogues & Ruffians! (date subject to change)

AND about 255 days till Teslacon!

Whew... those are my standing events. I don't know what else I have going on, but those are the important things.

And yes, I DO happen to have some photos to share. That's the name of the blog- "Pahz Lives with Fibro and Talks about Photography". (although, technically, I should call it "Pahz Lives with Fibro, Talks about Photography, and Never Shuts the Hell Up about Renaissance Faires.". However, the joke's on you! Teslacon is a steampunk event!!)

So, on to some unrelated photos-

Gypsy-



Luna-



Jasper-



Bruno-



And a few shots of the sparrows who live around the house. And in various small openings in the house.

I put the PRO in PROCRASTINATION and PROGRESS!

Yup. We're up in the middle of the night again. And when I say "we", I mean me. And maybe you. I don't know your life, those hidden cameras stopped working ages ago. But mostly me, because I'm the one here right now. So let's get on with this.

Why have I procrastinated? Well, I was going to update the new medicine progress a couple of weeks after last month's post. But then I thought: "Hey, dumbass, wait till after your followup appointment on January 15th. That'd make more sense than writing something now. Duh. You're so stupid." (my self isn't very nice to my self in these conversations. Don't worry though, my self talks about my self too, so that's just the relationship they seem to have with each other.)

So, I waited. Then I had my appointment. And then I waited another five days because WHY NOT!?

Well, a couple weeks before my appointment, I seemed to find the sweet spot of the medication. I take the generic Cymbalta at night, with one 10 mg tablet of Cyclobenzaprine (muscle relaxer), and my nightly Hydrocodone (two to three tablets). In the morning, usually shortly before lunch (so, between 10 and 11 AM), I take two Hydrocodone. And then, for five to six straight hours, I feel good. (not including this utterly stupid condition in my foot).

You see, normally, I'll cook dinner. That takes anywhere from a half hour to an hour, depending on what we're having. It also uses my hands (because I don't use instant potatoes, because gross) and I'm on my feet the whole time. So, by the time I sit down to eat, I'm exhausted and sore. Then the Disabled Guy cleans up the kitchen after dinner.

I see the hilarious irony to ME not being able to clean up the kitchen, but the person I refer to as The Disabled Guy does. Yes, he's disabled, but his disability doesn't cause him physical pain. But back to the story...

I noticed something good was happening when I cooked dinner and cleaned up after myself as I went along. And when it was over, I sat down to eat, slightly tired, but not kicked-in-the-face exhausted. And I did the dishes after dinner.

A few days later, I baked cookies.

A few days after that, I baked the Disabled Guy's birthday cake and he didn't even realize it when he walked into the kitchen while it was in the oven, because I'd cleaned everything up and put it all away.

Then, I went to a photography workshop in Chicago. (spoiler alert- it was awesome). You want the link to those photos? I know you do. Here's the link to ~Cupcakes and Instaprints~

Then I baked cookies again. I went to the store. I did things. And as long as I kept up that cycle of medicine, I was able to do things in large blocks of time in the middle of the day. I seem to have found the exact balance of pain medicine for now. At my followup appointment, the doctor decided to keep everything the same (medication-wise) and when I feel confident enough to handle the task, I can try walking for exercise again (there's ice out there right now. As good as I feel, I don't want to slip on the ice and completely fuck up my cyborg knee).

The only thing that is still pissing me off is that goddamn left foot. There's not much we can do about it because I'm taking the vitamins associated with helping neuropathy and I've gained a little sensation back in the numbness. But I'm double-cursed with that stupid thing because not only do I have fibro, I've had my knee replaced on that side. And that can cause an issue with neuropathy.

Sure, I still have bad days- I mean, look at me, I'm here... middle of the night- but the good days are coming in longer stretches and lasting for longer stretches. I don't dread going to the store as much as I did before. Now it's more of the "Great, there are people in there" and less of the "Great, I have to walk in there" than it was before.

I can tell you exactly why I'm awake tonight. It snowed. After several days of our temps in the low 40s (that's in Fahrenheit) and with humidity well over the 50% mark, it started to snow this evening. And I was in bed with my hands throbbing from the pain and my legs were on fire. They still are. Not literally, of course. Just in that itchy-one-million-hairy-legged-spiders-trying-to-escape kind of way. On the plus side of this ridiculous insomnia, I'm washing one of my super-soft blankets. One of the cats decided it had been clean long enough and hoarked a hairball on it- which I saw BEFORE climbing into bed earlier- so it needed to be washed. And the lack of that blanket contributed to the itchy-on-fire leg thing. One blanket did nothing to ease any fibroinations (just made that up, right now. You're welcome!).

So, good things. Yay! Fewer bad things. Yay, again! Photography. Yay! Oh, and I get to see a bunch of my faire family in a week and a half. I'm going to an event called Military History Fest where a bunch of them are re-enacting military historical stuff. I mean, c'mon, it's right there in the name. So, Faire Family! YAY! MORE PHOTOS! YAY!!

And, now I leave you with some photos from my Instagram... because you deserve to DIE from the cuteness...

Gypsy. (She doesn't have a "full name", but we call her "Gypsy-doodle" & she answers to "Doodle", "Poodle", "Dood", "Poopy-Puppy", "Poopy" & the kids call her "Doodle-head" sometimes). But she's a dignified wittle poopy-puppy. #GSD #germanshepherd #dog #pet

A photo posted by Pahz (@pahz_on_instagram) on Jan 20, 2015 at 9:25am PST

"I'm not looking at your, therefore, you cannot see me." ~Luna #chihuahua #dog #pet #sassy #somuchsass

A photo posted by Pahz (@pahz_on_instagram) on Dec 30, 2014 at 10:01am PST

Bruno and Jasper. All the dogs were in this shot before Instagram cropped it. #chihuahuas #dogs #pets

A photo posted by Pahz (@pahz_on_instagram) on Dec 29, 2014 at 9:04am PST

Gregg the Girl Dog with the Boy Name. (We just call her Gregg). No big story, just adorableness. #chihuahua #dog #pet #sunshine

A photo posted by Pahz (@pahz_on_instagram) on Dec 30, 2014 at 9:52am PST

Houdini (aka: Beefy). She could have been living with a jouster and his family, living a fun life and traveling the country with horses and other dogs, but she wouldn't bond with anyone but him. She was scared of him in his armor, even if he was just wearing the greaves. So, after 2 months of trying to acclimate her, he sadly had to give her back. Now she lives the boring life with me and the Disabled Guy (and the rest of the dogs. #chihuahua #dog #pet #sunshine

A photo posted by Pahz (@pahz_on_instagram) on Dec 30, 2014 at 9:48am PST

I think I finally figured out this fake insomnia thing!

That's right, I'm typing this blog at approximately 4 AM on a Sunday morning because when I went to bed last night, I didn't go to sleep. Instead, I just existed in that bed, feeling the pain throb in the bottom of my foot in the area where I had two separate shots to take the pain away. I also felt my muscles vibrating with pain. And I had two pretty good days in a row (up till 1 AM, when I decided I had enough of just staring at the ceiling, the wall, the other wall, the ceiling again...). I was trying not to get too hopeful till there were some REAL results with this new medicine (the generic Cymbalta), so I wasn't going to say anything... but no... on Friday evening, I said out loud to the Disabled Guy: "You know, I felt pretty good today. And walking in the grocery store wasn't terrible."

Stupid, I know. I should have kept my flappin' face shut till I had some decent results to present.

Oh, by the way, we're on day 10 with no sunlight. Nothing but clouds. I know this because I took a photo of the sunshine and posted it on Facebook because a friend mentioned the "day-moon is on fire" in his status. I'm sure all clouds and no sunlight is probably making Pahz something-something.

Anyway, back to the title!

I think I might have this figured out! Okay, so you know how when you go to shut down your computer, but it doesn't shut down? Instead, that one screen comes up and says: "Do not unplug your computer" because its loading updates? THAT is what I'm obviously doing! Because I'll be wide awake, completely unable to "shut down" and absolutely useless to anything else. In this mode, I can't drive anywhere, I can't focus to read a book, and I can barely watch TV. And then, without warning- BAM! I'm so tired I can barely make it to my room to fall face-down on the bed. JUST LIKE A COMPUTER!

I knew that becoming a cyborg would be weird, but I didn't realize I'd have to do all these updates during my shut-down period. No wonder I keep rebooting in the middle of the day.

Here we are... middle of the night again...

So, I'm taking 20 mgs of this Amitriptyline crap. Yes, it's crap. It isn't helping. It does nothing for the pain and it absolutely does nothing for the sleep. I am wide-the-fuck-awake right now. I haven't slept good in weeks. As I increased the dose of this medicine, I had to decrease the dose of muscle relaxers because I'm apparently not supposed to take them together. So, I'm on this useless-as-Tic-Tacs shit medication and NOT on the muscle relaxers. Granted, the muscle relaxers weren't doing a great job anymore (judging by my posts in the early Spring through the start of Summer), but when I took them, THEY RELAXED MY MUSCLES. Not always perfectly, but now that I'm not on them, I can feel every goddamned twinge in my muscles. Every ache. Every pull. Every single muscular movement that could turn into a motherfucking Charlie Horse.

You ever have a Charlie Horse? You know that sudden, stabbing, searing, agonizing, pull-the-muscle-from-the-bone-like-a-tender-turkey-slow-roasted-in-Aunt-Sandy's-oven pain... Now imagine having one of those in your goddamn arm. Or back. Or even your abdominal muscles. How about a slow pulling pain? Like if you took a rubber band and pulled it slowly, slowly, slowly till it was at the limit of its flexibility... now pretend that rubber band is your goddamn muscle. Yeah. Sucks, don't it?

This is my third middle-of-the-night episode in about two weeks' time. And these are getting less fun as they go along. I suppose the good thing I can say is that I'm not swollen anymore. I mean, when I do swell, it's the "normal" amount. Meaning that I do still have the same "unexplained" edema I've always had, but I no longer have that all-over body swelling that always left me with flippers instead of feet. At the end of the day, my feet look normal.

Let me tell you something rather ridiculous... I was actually sick with something that had NOTHING to do with fibro! The weekend of October 11th and 12th was A Gathering of Rogues & Ruffians, my last ren faire for the season. (I still have Teslacon, but that's not a ren faire). On Saturday, before we left, I became rather unwell. I spent approximately forty minutes in and out of the bathroom, never straying too far from a receptacle, lest my body purge the contents of the last six months.

But, I soldiered on, because, goddammit, I'd rather be miserable at the faire than be miserable at home. Around 1 PM, it became obvious that what I had was a case of food poisoning and I had to leave the faire. I haven't left a faire early since 2009, when I left the Janesville Faire after my shift at the new age shop ended (I did tarot card readings at a new age shop's tent there). That was less than two months after my knee replacement surgery. So, now I've left GRR to go home. I took a wee bit of a nap (about an hour and a half, broken into twenty minute increments, because why the fuck not?) and while I was awake and laying in bed trying not to die, I felt relieved. I was relieved to feel something in my body that was NOT fibro. Food poisoning pain is a totally different kind of pain than that of fibro. Around 7 PM that day, I felt a wave of relief. I could feel the effects of the food poisoning wearing off. I ate soup!

Long story short- I made it through all day Sunday at the faire, but mostly because I didn't eat anything and I drank water and Sprite.

That leaves us up to date on the goings on in my life. Fibro still fucking sucks. Food poisoning doesn't give a damn if you have fibro or any kind of obligation. This medication doesn't work for shit and I feel terrible all the goddamn time now. And yes, there are photos of A Gathering of Rogues and Ruffians... because even when I'm sick as hell, I will do the job I'm expected to do.

So, I'm going to call the doctor tomorrow, tell her how terrible life is, beg for a change, and get through the next two weeks and go to Teslacon because TESLACON! While I'm doing that, enjoy this selection of photos from the 2014 Gathering of Rogues and Ruffians.

Without these things, I would probably have gone off the deep end...

**Spoiler Alert**
When I got done adding the photos to the end of this blog post, my mood was so much better than when I started typing it. So, I got that going for me right now.
**End Spoiler**

My doctor called me on Tuesday. I was considering calling them, adding up in my head how long I'd been on this new medicine (Amatriptyline) and wondering "How long can I go through this before we say THIS drug isn't working?" when she actually called me. It startled me because the VA switchboard number doesn't have an assigned ringtone and the noise is that of an old-timey rotary dial phone's ring. Startled me so much that I almost fell out of my chair. (that's only a slight exaggeration).

She asked how things were going, how I felt, if I had any side effects... I told her that I was thinking about calling to ask: "How long do I have to be on this to decide if it isn't working" and what my very mild side effects were. She said we were going to up the dosage from a single tablet to a tablet-and-a-half. (10 mgs to 15 mgs). She also said that when I start the 15, I should cut down on my muscle relaxers. So, I only took one on the first night I took a pill-and-a-half. On the second day, I didn't take one in the morning (my usual dose is one in the morning, two at night). The next day, I could barely move. I had a severe case of "Batman neck" and I had it not just in my neck, but in my shoulders, elbows, wrists and my ankles. Like I said, I could barely move.

That night, I went back to the two muscle relaxers and the next morning, I took another... I'm not going to up the dose of the Amatriptyline till I get the proper prescription in the mail (also because I don't want to run out suddenly by using up MORE of what I have).

So, I've been miserable anyway, but last week and this week have been astoundingly terrible. I had a ren faire this weekend- Stronghold- and it was VERY chilly. It was fantastic, but damn cold. (I actually spent money on an actual cloak- on sale, helluva good deal). Hey, I actually have a photo of me wearing it...

~Taken by Chad Britt~

Chad took that shot from inside the castle. I had just finished up a little shoot with the guys from Cutlass Cooking (they had so few photos of themselves that weren't on stage). I want to mention here- on Sunday, I completely forgot to grab the SD card I need for my camera. Partly from lack of sleep, partly from the flareup, partly from the pain meds, but totally my own fault. I was contemplating driving to the nearest town and buying a new one when I spotted someone from Bristol. His name is Stephen and he loaned me a 64 GB memory card so I would be able to remain useful at Stronghold. (and it is now in my belt pouch so I don't forget to give it back to him this weekend!).

Anyway, where was I? Oh, that's right, bitching about this stupid disease and lack of treatment that works at all. I spent all day Sunday (which is when that photo was taken) with a full-blown flareup. One of the other photographers made a comment as to why I'd go out in the cold air if I felt so bad. I said: "I could feel like shit at home and do nothing or I could come here and feel like shit with people I love and enjoy being around... so yeah, it wasn't a hard choice."

Without the faire and those friends to look forward to, this would be unbearable. This week, the fibro flareup triggered a flareup of the tendinitis in my shoulder. I had sharp, stabbing pain radiating from my upper back (slightly to the right of my spine), down to my shoulder where it turned into a burning pain, down to my elbow and wrist, where it mimicked the pain of having sprained said joints. Because of that pain- ALL THE PAIN- I was sleeping like an actual baby. A colicky baby with the power of speech. I woke up approximately four-hundred-thirty-seven times an hour (that's an estimate). I tried to take a nap each day (in the morning, because being upright and conscious suuuuuu-uuuuuuu-uuuuuucked so very much) and on Wednesday, when I hadn't taken any muscle relaxers, I dozed on and off for this nap thing... and I woke up crying. I remember dreaming about floating on a cloud-like bed, telling my friends, Ansel and Tabitha, that I almost felt comfortable and thanking them for letting me stay in their basement (for the record, they live in an apartment and while I saw Tabitha on Saturday, I haven't seen Ansel since Bristol). In the dream, Tabitha handed me something and when I reached for it, the pain shot through my shoulder and upper back. I woke up crying and with the faint sounds of Tabitha's Bristol character telling me not to do that again.

Pain does weird shit to your brain.

So, without having the faire to look forward to, the subsequent photo-editing that followed, muscle relaxers, Vicodin, and my friends, I don't know what I would have done the last few weeks. It just all runs together for me. I don't even remember the last time I felt really good. I do have vague memories of the blog posts where I was hopeful that the Effexor was working and that I'd felt "okay".

You know, I'm not even asking to be pain-free. I don't even expect to ever be pain-free again, not 100%, anyway. I just want to be able to do the stuff I enjoy doing and seeing the people I enjoy seeing. Looking back on how my life has evolved with the faire, I'm so glad this stupid disease didn't start causing me problems before Faire Life. Before this, I had nothing. I had the kids and the disabled spouse. We didn't do anything, we didn't go anywhere. I knew a few people- other parents at the kids' school(s), but we didn't do things together. And the few times I DID do something with another parent (and our kids, like a deranged Brady Bunch), it was because that parent needed an extra adult in the situation (like renting canoes and taking a day trip down the Wisconsin River and going to museums in Milwaukee). That was actually the beginning of the issues- I remember coming back from a museum trip in Milwaukee and my foot had swelled up inside my shoe. I wrote a review for the IMAX movie we saw and mentioned in the review how I was sitting at my desk with my foot in a bucket of ice water.

And now? Now I have three small faires, the one big faire, and the number one Steampunk convention on my list of "things to do". Plus, I've been to Chicago more times in a year than I ever had been in my entire life.

Anyway... I have a faire tomorrow- A Gathering of Rogues & Ruffians in New Glarus. And, in a few weeks, I have Teslacon.  I have "official photographer" status for GRR, but not at Teslacon. I'm unofficially the photographer there...

The renaissance faire.

The people who are in my life because of the ren faire.

Pain medication.

Photography.

These are things I can't live without.

And maybe you can see why I enjoy being with these people...

And now... some photos!

~Link to the whole album~


Some of the guys from the Guild of St. Michael.

Then they had some fun.

One of the kids' shows did a treasure hunt and we're pretty sure that's what this "Y" is about... but Sir Francis Drake ponders... Why?

I got to follow the Queen's Court around for a couple hours and we ended up on the roof of the castle (the roof of the archway, actually, not the WHOLE roof).

Carlo Tuzzio and Caesar

Tabitha! As a patron!

This is a photo of JUST the nobility and their "staff"... this doesn't include the GSM (military) or any of the stage acts.



The last photo I took on Sunday- my 365... Day 234 of year 5. (that's my daughter with the red skirt and blue and brown shawls and her boyfriend next to her, wearing my cloak).



And for fun- my Steampunk Wonder Woman outfit that all started with a hat...