Complications

Apparently, the good Lord has decided that my life isn't complicated enough already. Fibromyalgia, vertigo, nausea? Too easy. Having to strap myself into an apparatus & breathe through a Hazmat mask everytime I want to get some sleep (AKA the horror of sleep apnea)? Come on! Attempting to live peacefully in the same house as my parents (one of whom has only a tenuous grip on her sanity)? Cakewalk. Flooding in my basement & siding popping off in chunks? Girl, please!

So, here's what happened: I went for my semi-annual checkup with my rheumatologist a few weeks ago, which always includes some basic bloodwork to check for possible side-effects from all my various meds & treatments. All went well, so I scheduled my next visit for 5 months from now & went on my merry way. A week later, Mark goes to our family physician for a routine check, just to get his prescriptions refilled for another year. He comes home that afternoon, looking a little frazzled. Concerned, I asked him how it went... Wrong move! Mark then proceeds to tell me that he is fine, but that our doctor told him that I had type 2 diabetes. Um, what?!

Apparently my rheumatologist had checked my sugar as part of the bloodwork he did, and had sent a copy of the results to my primary care doctor. "Aha!" thought I. "Well, that explains it. He didn't tell me to fast before having my blood drawn, and I know I had breakfast and lunch that day. So I'm sure that result wasn't accurate." Still, I thought it would be smart to take some random glucose readings at home, just to see how things were on a regular basis. My mom has a meter that she doesn't need to use anymore, so I borrowed it for the 2 weeks between hearing this news & my next appointment with my doctor.

Suffice it to say that I was less than thrilled with the results... My first reading, taken before breakfast, was 237 mg/dl (for those of you who may not be familiar with normal glucose levels, my understanding is that fasting glucose is supposed to be 110 mg/dl or less). The following days were no better: 256... 197... 243... 222... 195... 281. The best (?) reading I had in that two week period was a 165. Subsequent testing ordered by my doctor reinforced the ugly truth.

And that's the story of how Mark gave me diabetes. I mean, what the hell?! He's no longer allowed to go to the doctor without supervision - the last thing I need is for him to come home one day & tell me that I've got the plague or something. Unbelievable!

Seriously, though, I think Mark has been more worried about all this than I have. Poor guy! As much as I like to tease him about the circumstances of my diagnosis - and I really, really do - it would have to suck to be in his position & have to tell someone you love that they have a life-altering, potentially fatal disease. As I expected, he has also been nothing but supportive and understanding, signing up to go to diabetes care classes with me (4 weeks in a row!) and listening patiently as I obsess about all the new information I'm trying to absorb. Mark has always been my hero, but now I might seriously have to look into getting him a medal or something.

As for me, I'm still feeling a little shell-shocked by the whole experience. I can't say that the diagnosis was a real surprise - I'm very overweight, more sedentary than ever before, and I usually base my food choices on what's the most convenient at the time. Of course, I can blame some of this on my fibromyalgia, but the truth is that I knew better and still did nothing to avoid the possible ramifications of my lifestyle - including diabetes. I take full responsibility for my predicament and the poor choices that led me here... well, except for the part where Mark gave me diabetes. Bastard. ;>)

But the first choice I made in dealing with my new lifestyle was to look at all the positive things that I have going for me. Again, as much as I love to tease about it, I was actually very lucky to have been diagnosed at all in these unusual circumstances. I don't know why my rheumatologist chose to check my sugar to begin with, but it certainly would have been at least 5 months from now before he discussed it with me - assuming he noticed it at all. Had the nurses or staff at my primary doctor's office not noticed the result & flagged it for the doctor - which happens all too often, in my experience - I may never have heard about it at all. So I feel lucky to have doctors & nurses who didn't let my potentially life-threatening problem slip through the cracks.

I know it sounds bizarre, but I also think that being disabled has actually worked to my advantage in this situation. I don't have to worry about juggling meals, glucose checks, meds & insulin around a job, for example. I have plenty of free time to do research and learn all I need to know to keep my sugar as normal as possible. And most of the research I've done has stressed the psychological effects of a diabetes diagnosis, pointing out that most people go through some permutation of the 5 Stages of Grief when they learn of their condition - grief primarily based on the loss of a normal life, and having to face the future with a chronic, incurable illness. Well - been there, done that! I know that I'll have to make a lot of changes in my lifestyle over the coming months and years, but my past experiences with debilitating health conditions have prepared me for this in ways I would never have imagined.

Unfortunately, my existing health problems may also be the biggest stumbling block for me in getting my glucose under control. The best treatment for me right now is to lose weight and get lots of exercise - things that are exponentially more difficult to do with fibromyalgia. But I feel really positive about making whatever changes are necessary, and if I'm lucky, I could end up healthier and feeling better than I have ever been.

Of course, all of this could have been avoided if my husband hadn't given me diabetes in the first place. *Sigh!*

Better. Faster. Keith-ier.

Okay, so we all know I stole that line from the Countdown commercials, but it was just too perfect for my needs. But first, I feel the need to backtrack a bit...

If you've dropped by this blog at any point over the past 3 or 4 months, you will probably have noticed the lack of posts and updates. I could give any number of excuses, not the least of which being my grandfather's grave illness (he passed away on April 17th) and all the family drama which ensued, but the heart of the matter is that I just wasn't feeling very bloggy. I'm sure the problem wasn't helped by my fibromyalgia, which is always exacerbated by any kind of stress - and the stress that a death in the family brings is an especially potent type indeed. But the truth is that I have felt relatively well for quite some time now... I just didn't have it in me until now to get back on the blogging horse, so to speak.

So, please accept my genuine apologies for my sudden and prolonged absence. I will endeavor over the next few days to catch you all up on what has been going on around here... I'm sure something has been happening, but for the moment I'm at a bit of a loss. Well, I guess there is one exception...

My trusty laptop Keith has been struggling for quite some time with the many burdens of living with me - such as my constant, unreasonable requests to run applications that required Windows XP even though he was very clear at the start of our relationship that he could only provide me with Windows 2000. Ultimately, we made a mutual decision to part ways, although we will always remain close. After much deliberation, he has been put out to pasture as a 24/7 conduit to my bulky external hard drive. It's a low-stress position, but still a vital role in my computing life. He seems to be fitting in well.

All this is to explain the presence of my fancy new laptop, which has been duly dubbed Keith 2.0 (I hope this doesn't lead to any resentment issues within the network...). As the title indicated, he is indeed better, faster and Keith-ier than my first love. On top of running Windows XP Pro, he also includes some fancier hardware, such as the built-in DVD-RW (yay!). We're still getting to know each other, of course, but I predict a long, beautiful partnership in our future. He has already helped me to tweak my blog layouts and to backup a lot of my data. And I'm sure that it is in no small part due to his inspiration that, at long last, I finally find myself feeling bloggy again.

On the Second Day of Christmas...

There's a lot of work to do here at the ol' homestead. Aside from the normal post-Christmas fallout to sort through, we also have a great big holiday extravaganza scheduled for this Saturday. It's always lots of fun, and since it's a pitch-in, no one person has to do a bunch of cooking. Generally, my kind of shindig.

But I'm starting to have ominous warning signs that all may not go as smoothly as I'd hoped... None of us have been very energetic since our bout with the uber-virus last month, but it seems to have been particularly draining for me. Last Saturday we went out for a yummy Chinese pre-Christmas dinner, then opened presents with my sister's family. On Sunday, Mark & I had breakfast with his sister, then after a long winter's nap, I went out with my cousins to look at Christmas lights in the evening.

None of this was particularly strenuous - I didn't even have to drive much. All I did was bathe, dress & eat, really. But it was apparently too much for my delicate system to handle. I awoke on Christmas Eve at about 1 in the afternoon, to find all the glands on the left side of my body swollen & tender. I ate some cereal, took my meds, then went back to sleep until about 5pm. Poor Mark had worked his cute little patootie off all weekend to have some free time on Christmas Eve, only to spend it watching me sleep. We did have a delicious ham dinner that evening, courtesy of Dad, but it was clear that Midnight Mass was no longer an option for me. So we tucked back up in bed & watched some TiVo to ring in the holiday.

Since then, I've had difficulty dragging my sorry carcass out of bed. I did manage to make an appearance at the Raymond family Christmas festivities on Tuesday, but I spent the majority of the holiday in bed. And the past 2 days haven't been much better. My glands do seem much less swollen today (yay!), but I'm still about as energetic as a ragmop.

And I awoke early this morning to an exciting new symptom: the good news is that it only affects one organ this time; the bad news is that it's my skin, which is... well, everywhere. I've had sore spots before, but they usually only affect one or two small areas at a time. But today, my ankles are screaming from the elastic band in my socks, the loose threads in my shirt tormented me until I just ditched it for a plush bathrobe, and I couldn't even stand it for Mark to touch me long enough to help me back upstairs after dinner (he often has to stand behind me & push, much as you would to get an elephant into a trailer).

Needless to say, this turn of events makes me feel less than optimistic about the impending Christmas party. At best, there's going to be a lot of last minute scrambling on my part to get my food prepared & to make the house presentable. Quite possibly, the whole thing may have to go on without me - which, to be fair, would probably only be a bummer to me for missing it. As guilty as I may feel for not helping enough, it wouldn't likely make much of a real difference in the amount of work everyone else has to do. My party-preparing capabilities have dwindled over the years to a point where Dad, Mark and the visiting team of Laura & John are usually responsible for the lion's share of the work, anyway. All I'd really need to do is give John my coveted Cheesy Potato recipe, and everything else should go along fine without me, I'd wager.

But it sure won't be very much fun for me... Of course, my girls would be excited to have the company, even if I'm too sore or tired to play with them. They're usually banished to our bedroom with the door locked during our parties, since much of the extended family is allergic to cats. So they're always stuck behind that closed door, listening to all the fun just outside & wishing they could be out there in the middle of the excitement, surrounded with laughter and merriment.

Unfortunately, this year it looks like I may find out for myself just how that feels.

How was your day?

Sometimes everything just seems to go right. The stars just line up and good luck follows you no matter where you go or what you do. Or so I've heard.

This was not one of those days.

I set my alarm this morning, so I'd be sure to have plenty of time to get ready for one of my favorite traditions: the Raymond family Young Ladies' Tea, which is scheduled once a year around Christmastime. My lovely and talented sister-in-law Patty arranges this awesome event each year, and it's always a ton of girly fun.

This year's tea took place at 1:00 in the afternoon, so the fact that I had to set my alarm to be ready should give you some idea of how pitiful my life is on a day-to-day basis. Anytime I need to be up before noon, I always have to set my alarm. It's possible that I might wake up before that, but I can't count on it.

But this morning, I was awake for several hours before my alarm went off...which should be a good thing. Unfortunately, the reason why I was awake on this occasion was that I was curled up in the fetal position, wracked with pain. I'm not exactly sure why - usually I can trace my most severe fibromyalgia flares back to instances of physical exertion or unusual stress. For example, I had some nasty muscle cramps & pain in my right arm starting this past Tuesday night, which were easily explained by the potato peeling & mashing I had done earlier in the evening for our post-Thanksgiving turkey feast. Not exactly weight lifting or anything, but for me, that's a lot of exercise.

But I was feeling much better by Friday, and didn't do anything else strenuous all weekend. I was itching to finally put up the Christmas tree, but I purposely didn't so I'd have a better chance of feeling well enough to party with the ladies on Sunday afternoon. I've learned to plan out my life in this fashion, trying not to schedule activities too close together so I have plenty of time to rest & recuperate between events. I did everything I could to ensure that I'd be feeling up to the 40-minute drive to Patty's and the frivolity that would ensue.

So, back to this morning... It took me about 40 minutes to unclench myself, and then I was faced with the trickiest task of the day - trying to get out of bed and into the bathroom without falling or otherwise hurting myself. When this happens to me on weekdays, my usual plan of action involves as much stretching while still in bed as my bladder can tolerate, and then a lot of trial & error. Sometimes leaning on the bedpost helps; other times my arms are far too sore to bear my weight. I have to make a few trial attempts at standing, until I'm satisfied that I've at least got a chance at holding myself upright. If I succeed, and I can manage to make it the 6 steps to the bathroom door, I'm usually good.

Other times, though, like this morning, I'm lucky enough to have Mark nearby when I'm trying to get up. I usually don't even have to ask for help - I think it's the soft sobbing & whimpering noises that tip him off. It typically takes about 10 minutes or so for him to gently extract me from the bed and guide me to the bathroom - this morning, I almost fell when I stepped on a piece of stray cellophane wrapping on the floor. I couldn't see it, since it was clear, but it felt like I had stepped on a jagged rock or some broken glass. That's pretty common with fibromyalgia, I understand - my pain threshold is just completely out of whack. A few tiny crumbs in the bed feels like sleeping on pebbles to me. I call it the "Princess and the Pea" factor. Whatever the cause, it gets really annoying sometimes, especially when I'm trying to concentrate on something important, like remaining upright. Luckily, Mark was standing by to catch me this time.

After I made my way to the bathroom & took care of business, I pulled myself back upright using the countertop, and turned to see myself in the mirror. I looked about as good as I felt: wan, unkempt, cheeks bright red from exertion, eyes bright red from tears. I looked at my hair, which was particularly askew from all my tossing & turning. I picked up my hairbrush, only to release it almost immediately with the realization that I couldn't lift my arm above my shoulder, so brushing my hair would be impossible.

It had already occurred to me that it would be unlikely that I'd be able to drive myself to the tea party, between the restricted motion and the muscle relaxers & pain meds I'd need just to get dressed. This is a common problem for me, so I had already made contingency plans for Mark to drive me if this happened. But it wasn't until I was staring at my reflection in the mirror that it dawned on me that I would never be able to get myself dressed & presentable in time for the party, regardless of whether or not I was in too much pain to have fun.

That's when I lost it. It's not unusual for my pain to cause a few tears, as it already had earlier this morning, but it's never so bad that it makes me sob uncontrollably. As Mark commented knowingly when he came to check on me, it's always the frustration that really brings the tears. And he's absolutely right. There was also sadness & disappointment that I would once again miss a family function, particularly one that is always so enjoyable. But the overwhelming feeling is always frustration: at myself, at circumstances, but mostly at this disease that has robbed me of so many things in my life. I think that, for the most part, I handle my condition and it's consequences & limitations with considerable aplomb. But days like today, which luckily only occur every so often, just push me a bit too far.

As if I didn't feel useless enough, I was unable to stop crying long enough to phone Patty to tell her I couldn't make it to the party. Every time I calmed myself down & picked up the phone, the tears would start all over again. Like I wasn't already embarrassed enough at having to cancel plans yet again - now I couldn't even pull myself together long enough to speak for myself. I finally asked Mark to call her for me, which he was happy to do. Needless to say, dignity was in short supply around here this morning.

Of course, Patty was very gracious about my cancellation and expressed her concerned for me, and I'm sure she knows that I had my heart set on spending time with her & the rest of the girls today. This is not the first time I've had to cancel plans with Patty, so I don't think she was too surprised to get the call. I just wish I had been able to express my regrets personally. Well, more than anything, I wish I had been able to actually attend in the first place, but it just wasn't in the cards today.

This is the part where I say that I'm really not feeling that sorry for myself, and that I know things aren't as bad as they sometimes seem. I had a bad day, and it was upsetting, but I still have so many blessings in my life, not the least of which is the love & support of a wonderful, caring husband. Mark was right by my side to help me up, both literally and figuratively, and I would never take that for granted. Within moments of my morning meltdown, he had me laughing and smiling, which was no mean feat. There are a million reasons why I love him, and days like this make me love him just a little bit more.

I could go on, but I think I need to stop typing for awhile & rest my arms. It starts all over again in the morning, and I'd like it to be a better morning than I had today.

I refuse to Spring forward, but I'll definitely Fall Back

Fall has always been my favorite time of year. The weather gets cool & crisp, the scenery here in Indiana is beautiful, and there's lots of family celebrations at hand (several birthdays and anniversaries, including my own), as well as anticipation for the holidays right around the corner. Yes, I do love the Fall.

So I suppose it's fitting that the Indiana autumn provided the backdrop for one of the best days I've had in a long time. Not that I haven't had some good days this year - we had lots of fun on our triple-date in September, for example, and I've had some great times with Mark. I think that this day stands out from those only in the sense that it was unexpectedly good.

The evolution of my special Saturday was typical: Mark has been working through the weekends for the past few weeks, and I thought a girls-day-out might be beneficial for my best friend who, as you may recall, has had several recent health scares regarding her husband. Providentially, I received an invitation last week to attend an Open House for Vista Massage Therapy Group, a local spa which I had been meaning to try out for quite some time.

Massages are generally a bit out of my price range, and I actually noticed the last time I had one (probably 5 or 6 years ago) that I felt worse afterwards than I had before. I've since learned that this is very common with fibromyalgia patients - not that massage techniques can't be helpful, but the standard Swedish or deep tissue massages can be too harsh and make symptoms worse. The reason Vista had me on their mailing list in the first place was because I had been doing some research on any local masseuses that do specialized bodywork for fibromyalgia, such as trigger point therapy and myofascial release. They do, but the time has just never seemed right to go in & try an appointment. Plus, we were trying to cut our budget to the bone over the past 6 months or so, just to be cautious, until Mark felt happy & stable in his new position. So it was hard for me to justify a luxury like this, even though it is for pain management more than relaxation...

But things are pretty positive right now on the job front for Mark - he even felt confident enough to pay off our entire credit card debt, which tells me that he's pretty sure he'll be bringing in some steady money for now. So he encouraged me to go to the Open House and ask all my questions, and find out if they would be able to help me without being prohibitively expensive. As long as he didn't have to go, he was all for it.

Never having been to this place, I was a bit leery of what we would find. They invitation mentioned demonstrations of various techniques, vendors selling things like Mary Kay, crafts, air purifiers, and personal training. They also promised refreshments, which I figured would be a tray of vegetables and some cookies. Serena & I made a game plan before we went in, deciding to give it 15 minutes and then bolt if it was boring or if they started to put on the full press.

I will summarize the experience: Serena had a free foot massage and a free chair massage; I also had the foot massage, plus a free blended massage, with trigger point therapy included. So awesome! Add in some free wine and cheese, tiny chicken salad sandwiches, apple cake, pumpkin cake, and apple cider, and the novelty of getting to watch an ear candling in progress, and you've got quite a fiesta. We never made it to the free tarot readings or tuning fork therapy (??) - we were too busy being buffed to a shiny glow.

Follow this free relaxation event with lunch at the new Greenwood Cheesecake Factory, and you've got yourself a pretty remarkable day in progress. One pumpkin-pecan cheesecake and a mojito later, and life seems very good, indeed.

To top it off, we went to Bed, Bath & Beyond and Kohl's to do some girly shopping. For once, a day that was both fun and relaxing at the same time....I don't usually get that. I tend to either be relaxed but bored, or have fun but be pushing myself too hard.

They say that high on the list of therapeutic benefits of massage for fibromyalgia patients is the fact that it promotes and enhances healthy sleep. That's huge, because poor sleep is a major contributor - some even think it's the cause - to fibromyalgia symptoms. A restful sleep can change a lot for a fibro patient.

Serena brought me home around 5:30, and I was completely relaxed... So much so that I was counting sheep by 6:30, and slept most of the evening. I'm actually still really tired, but I thought I should try to stay up at least a bit so that I'll sleep through the night (for once). Anyway, if the goal of therapeutic massage is to promote sound sleep, I'd have to say "check" on that one!

All in all, a very fun, different, and educational outing. I signed up for a follow-up massage next week, so I can try the full experience & decide if it's something I want (& can afford) to do regularly. This first appointment should cost about $50 for an hour, which is pretty reasonable, I think. If it can make me feel as good as I did when I left there today, it's worth every penny.

If you live in the Indy/Greenwood area, I highly recommend giving Vista a try if you find you need some relaxation in your life. I also recommend that you check out their MySpace page & add them as a friend: they send occasional bulletins with specials and event notifications (that's how I knew about the Open House today) to keep you up to date on all their news & deals.

Now I'm off to another 10 hours or so of blissful sleep. Ahhh, sweet relaxation! ;)


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Now playing: The Cure - Just Like Heaven
via FoxyTunes

A Day in the Life - With Fibromyalgia

So I realized that I have been blogging for awhile now, and have yet to talk about my condition. I have no intention of turning this into a whine-fest, but sometimes it's awkward to ask about these things, and I don't think most people understand what fibromyalgia is like.

I'm not going to try to define fibromyalgia, or try to get technical about it. There are lots of medical web sites that can explain that stuff far better than I ever could. Instead I would like to just talk about how my condition affects me on a day-to-day basis.

Today was a good day. When I woke up, I was able to get out of bed on the first try, after only 10 minutes of slow leg stretches. Many mornings I have to make multiple attempts before I can stand, and even then it's a crapshoot as to whether I'll make it all 10 feet to the bathroom.

Apart from the stiffness, my usual complaint is pain, ranging from general tenderness to "I feel like I got hit by a truck". Today being a good day, it was just a moderate soreness. When I hit the shower after breakfast, a lot of this pain eases, at least for awhile.

Breakfast is always the first thing on my daily agenda, so I have some food in my stomach before I start taking my meds. Anti-inflammatories, pain pills, muscle relaxers, anti-emetics. I take about 10 pills each morning, and about double that before bed at night, with some more thrown in throughout the day as needed. Of course, I have to adjust all this if I need to drive anywhere, since some of these make me too drowsy to drive - assuming I'm not too dizzy or sore to drive in the first place. But I didn't have to go out today.

I spent the rest of the day alternating between watching TV and surfing the net. I can't do either for more than 30 minutes or so without moving around, or else I'll stiffen up and get really sore. I realize that having to take breaks between leisure activities is what you might call a "high class problem", so I'm not complaining. Believe me, I know how lucky I am that I don't have to try to trudge through a work day anymore, pretending that I'm not in pain or dizzy.

Most days, this would be my itinerary until Mark gets home from work, but as I said, today was a good day. I took advantage of it by getting some laundry done. I'm good for maybe 2 loads in a day - I've learned the hard way not to push this limit. The last time I did, I couldn't lift my arms for 3 days afterward.

Next, I unpacked my UPS package from NutriSystem. I've been trying to lose weight, but more importantly I get a month's worth of meals without having to go shopping or haul groceries. There have been times when this was not a luxury but a necessity. But not today - today was a good day.

This was a very productive day for me. I got a lot of maintenance done on my MySpace, Facebook and Friendster pages. I have just started these in the last month or so, after years of slowly losing touch with most of my friends. It's embarrassing to always turn down invitations or to have to cancel plans at the last minute, and it's often easier to just avoid the situation. Eventually the contact dwindles to just a card at Christmas, if that. I am now in a place where it's a bit easier to talk about my condition and my limitations, so I'm hoping to renew and repair these lost relationships - or maybe make some new ones.

Mark got home at about 9:30 - he visits his dad on Wednesdays, so those are always late days for him - and we settled in for the most recent episode of "The 4400" on TiVo. Then it's off to bed for working men. I'm usually up long past Mark, and tonight is no exception. I'll probably turn in after finishing this, which is actually a bit early for me. I have a doctor's appointment at 8:30am tomorrow, though, so I should try to get some sleep.

All in all, not a bad day. I have certainly had many more fun-filled days than this, but I've learned to appreciate just having a relatively pain-free day. I take each day as it comes, and try to set goals without having any expectations. I have days where I can play with my niece and nephew for hours, and I have days where I only make it out of bed to pee. I've had wonderful days on vacation with Mark, and I've had days where poor Mark has had to bathe and dress me. Some days will suck, but that just makes me appreciate the good days even more.

And today was a good day.



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