would you rather

Would you rather live without pain, or live without pleasure?

I never imagined that I would actually be faced with that decision. I mean, it’s like a bad college drinking game – except I’m playing for reals this time.

In my whopping 6 days of post-diagnosis research, I’ve unearthed a ton of different theories, diets, exercise plans, get-well-fast gimmicks, naturopathic remedies and detox regimes.

My Rheumatologist suggested to cut back intake of “inflammatory” foods. Um, do you know what that consists of? Pretty much EVERYTHING.

·         Dairy

·         Meat

·         Sugar

·         Additives

·         Synthetic sweeteners

·         Wheat and refined grains

·         Salt

·         Fried foods

·         Tomatoes

·         Hydrogenated and trans fats

·         Processed, packaged, prepared food

·         Alcohol

·         Caffeine

So, I’ve already tried the gluten-free thing, and factually elt worse after two months of strict adherence. (Not to mention my grocery bill skyrocketed.)

One down (check).

Next? I will be cutting my morning cup(s) of coffee. This one is not going to be fun. I dread the headaches already…

the air i tasted and breathed has taken a turn

"Fibromyalgia."

That's what Dr. W said yesterday at 11:54 am PST...my life is forever changed because of it, and it still hasn't quite settled into my reality.

I'm in research mode, ingesting copious amounts of information, research,  personal stories, treatments, alternatives, support sites. You name it, I'm stalking it. This is my way of connecting the dots and coming to terms with my prognosis.

It took 40 years to put all of this together. From the time I was two years old, I would wake at night crying hysterically that my "legs hurt". The doctors said it was just growing pains. I got orange flavored baby aspirin tabs and the nauseating smell of Ben-Gay vaporub all over my extremities.

In my pre-teen years,  participating in organized sports, I complained of pain in my legs, knees, feet and toes. By this time, I could more effectively communicate the type of pain and pinpoint where. The doctor said my tendons were too short and that stretching would help. Along with pain relievers and more of that blasted Ben-Gay crap. After that, I simply learned to live with it. It was manageable to a certain degree, and only flared up a few days every month or so. Tylenol and Advil became my best friends. {I'm so sorry, kidneys and liver}.

At 27, I sought help for dibilitating headaches. The doctor told me they were tension headaches caused by stress.

When my back began to give me serious trouble in my 30's, it was diagnosed as muscle spasms and treated with muscle relaxers and massage therapy.

For the past twenty years, I've sought help many times for extreme anxiety and panic attacks, insomnia, fatigue, TMJ and depression.

And finally, at the age of 42, all of these symptons (and others) have collided into one singular diagnosis: fibromyalgia.

Forty years of suffering was not "all in my head" or just part of my sensitive nature (aka weak tolerance).

I'm not crazy.
I have a disease.  
It has a name.

Fibromyalgia.

They say not knowing is half the battle. I say the battle begins the moment you "know".


For more information, please visits http://www.fmaware.org