2nd Day in Bed

It is days like this that I wish I had someone to talk to that understands. Someone that realizes I have pushed and pushed my body far past what it could handle. Someone that understands I am taxed beyond all means and that just because I looked "OK" a few days ago, doesn't mean I really was. 

I want to be able to walk out the door, knowing that I can fall back on all the experience I have in the work force and get a job easily. I MISS a real, printed on paper paycheck every week. I MISS busting my tale at work and then coming home to being a single mother. I MISS having the bills paid every month and not having to worry about which ones are not getting paid. I MISS being able to care for my body on my own, showering, washing hair, etc. I MISS being able to keep my house clean and all the chores done. 

I MISS BEING NORMAL

I try so very hard to look forward and focus on what I can do. Yet, when I am stuck in bed......when I have to have help to make it into the bathroom.....when someone else has to make my plate and help clean up the mess when I drop my food all over me......these are the times I think about all that I used to be able to. The time when I was a single mother, working and going to college. When my house stayed so clean you could eat off my floors without fear of germs (OK, so I was/am OCD).

I have enrolled in college. The entire degree consists of online courses. Only one will be work intensive, with multiple assignments and labs due weekly. I spoke with the department head for over an hour. I didn't tell him about my health issues. I didn't tell him that I'm choosing this field because I need a job where I can work from home, in case I can't get out of bed. I didn't tell him that I'm choosing this field because I feel I can only work part-time, around my bodies needs, and I hope this field will pay enough that I can support my family with part time work. I didn't tell him that I am unsure how I'm going to manage college, health issues, and be a success. 

I hate being stuck in bed. Regardless of everyone telling me it does not constitute failure on my part, the time spent away from my children and the state of my home makes me feel otherwise. 

I won't give up. I'll keep putting one foot in front of the other, metaphorically of course. I'll keep believing that somehow it'll all work out. I'll keep striving to be able to find a way to support my children and have income to provide for their needs. 

Someone asked me how I could believe in God after  all I've been through. 

Truth is..... if I didn't believe in Him, I'd have ended it all long ago. 

Chronic Illness & Dating

How exactly does dating with long term, chronic, invisible illnesses work? I figured that upon initially meeting someone, there would be no point in telling them about my health condition. We might not make it past 3 dates or ever see each other again, so what would it matter?

However, when does a person divulge information like that? How do you approach it? When does it become an issue that would be important to the other person?

I do unusually well during the summer months. This past winter, due to how warm the months were, has been my best winter yet. I didn't even have to dust off the wheelchair! I figure I could realistically date someone and not have to bring up my health issues until fall of this year.

Doesn't sound like me at all, does it? Me...who is always the one that speaks up for honesty and full disclosure. The one who is the first to say that by intentionally withholding information, a person is being dishonest. I'm the one who has no problem calling out others due to their giving half answers.

Yet, I fell prey to the very thing I abhor. I became dishonest by way of withholding information and only giving half answers. When asked why I didn't put the kids in public school and get a full time job, I spoke of my child's health issues and special needs as being the reason. That was honest and true, but I left out the fact that even if I did put them in public school, that it was highly unlikely my health would allow me to hold a full time job. I left out the part that to be protected by FMLA for time missed from work, I am required by law to reveal the health issues that I have. That by revealing these issues, I am left with no one willing to hire me. I left out the part that I have a fabulous full time job waiting on me, but that my health doesn't allow me to perform that job anymore. When asked why I didn't charge for all of the side jobs I do, I explained that I barter a lot. I didn't explain that most of what I had been seen doing recently was being done free because these were people who carried me through the winter. Even when asked about the dissolution of my marriage, I left out the strain that my having health issues had caused in our marriage (not excusing his actions by any means as we all know illegal drug use is not the way to deal with stress.....just making the point that chronic illness is difficult on a marriage).

There were so many other instances like this. Conversations we held that I didn't really say what I truly felt because that would lead to my having to explain why I felt that way. OR, I would say what I felt and thought, but it didn't make sense to the other person because they were never given the opportunity to see things from my perspective. Times where I was told that they thought I was holding back and not telling them something. Then, the times I would express that I did not understand what the other was trying to say, but because they did not understand my unique health issues and how it effects me mentally, they were not equipped to explain it to me in a way I would understand. We both walked away frustrated.

I feel....... hypocritical. How can I demand upfront honesty from each person I meet, yet give less in return?

At the same time, I long for what others have. I HATE the way people treat me different once they know. The look of pity that comes into their eyes. The way they start to offer to do everything for me, even when they've seen me do those things before. The way they no longer perceive me as a strong individual, but as a weak one instead. I HATE that. I want to be able to go out, have a good time, and there not be the thread of my illnesses running through each thing we do.

The people that I keep in my life on a close and personal basis, they are the ones who NEVER treat me different. They are the ones who see me the same after they found out, as they did before. They are the ones that have never once felt sorry for me. They are the same ones who will sit with me as I cry about how lonely life can be with chronic illnesses and that come together to help me make it through the cold winter months. Yet, despite that.....they never look at me any different. I have friends who, in the depths of winter, have had to help me dress and eat. They've had to brush my hair when I could not lift my arms. They've had to put my shoes on for me. They've had to take my children to appointments I couldn't drive them to. Yet, never once did they look at me with pity or as any less then the strong and independent woman that I am. These are my truest friends. These are the ones that will be by my side throughout life. (I love you Tabitha, Franny, Brandy, James and my family)

I would like to go on dates and men see me for who I really am. If I tell them in the very beginning, then they see my illness instead of me. If I wait till later, I have placed myself into a situation where I am no longer an honest person.

Where is the compromise? Is there even a compromise to be made? Even once you determine the “when” it should be divulged.....there is still the question of “how”. Maybe I should print out cards that have my name, number and a disclaimer that reads, “Dating is only allowed during warmer months” or “I go to Narnia in the winters” or maybe “Due to FibroFog and ChemoFog, I am due to completely lose my mind at any given time”. Or maybe I should just make a list of all the possible offensive things that I might do as a direct result of my health issues.

~ May ask you to repeat what you've just said....numerous times.

~ May stare at you with a blank look on my face and not understand anything you've said.

~ May substitute random words in a sentence that make no sense at all.

~ May have no recollection or memory of conversations we have had.

~ May have no recollection or memory of dates we've been on.

~ May get frustrated when I am trying my best to understand what you are saying, but it won't make sense to me.

~ May have difficulty following through on multi-step directions.

~ May lose everything, even when it is in the same spot I always put it

~ May become emotional when I have things to accomplish and am unable to do them.

~ May appear to neglect important things (such as cleaning house). In reality I am basing my day on how many spoons I have left (read The Spoon Theory available online)

~ May lose ability to spell, sometimes even the most basic of words.

I could go on and on. There are so many things that change when I have a flare coming on. The peak of the flare can be mild to bad. This one, I spent yesterday and the day before in bed. Today I've made it to the chair in my bedroom and am able to type. YAY! I actually think I might be able to shower today, though the legs are gonna have to stay hairy! ;-)

Overall, I have the best life anyone could ask for. I have incredible children and an amazing daugther that steps up to bat when I'm down and out. She has cared for her brothers, cleaned the house, cooked meals, and done all that I needed done the last few days. She has not whined once, nor complained. She has checked on me, brought me meds and applied pain patches. I have friends that have checked on me throughout the day via text. I have a friend that came at the very last minute to take me to the doc. She drove an amazingly long distance to get me there and did so at the very last minute (we had an hour to be there from the time I asked her to take me). I know that had my flare persisted through the week, that friends would offer to come cook or take the kids where they needed to go.

I have the best friends, a lovely home, and family (not necessarily blood) that would take a bullet for me if need be. I have benefited so much from these illnesses. The two years I spent in bed taught me a lot about what really matters in life. I learned to quit trying to live up to others' expectations of me. I learned that it really doesn't matter what others think. I learned that I didn't need the praise and commendation for a job well done I had craved and depended on before I got sick. I learned that there is such a thing as unconditional love and that my children show it to me even when I'm at my worse. I learned that doctors really don't know best. I learned that people who have no idea what you are going through will ALWAYS have an opinion about it, and it's best to just ignore it and walk on. I have learned that there is no room for drama in my life, and the easiest way to deal with it is to block it from your life at the first sign of it. I have learned that there are some people who can see past the illness and see who you really are, and those are the people you keep around. I've learned that there is great joy in giving and doing for others, and that is what life is about. I've learned that money doesn't matter, that insurance companies couldn't care less about what you need, and that the more material possessions you own....the more you have to clean!

Life is a learning adventure. I guess this is just part of it I have yet to learn about. As always, I'd love to hear feedback. I know that many of you who read this blog (so sorry I haven't posted much lately) have chronic illness or love someone that does. I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Remember, each morning when you wake, no matter how severe your pain, find that one beautiful thing. No matter how small or how great, find ONE beautiful thing. Cling to that as your happy thought. Mine today are the memories of the wind blowing through the leaves yesterday. Each time I woke, that is the first thing I saw from my windows. It'll be my happy thought today! ;-)  

My Year Without Sex

First let me say, I am almost convinced that this blog post will get more viewers then any of my other recent blog post simply because it has the word "sex" in the title. Come on, you know it caught your attention also.

Now, let me explain. "My Year Without Sex" is the title of an Indie Film. I watched it on Netflix tonight. I typically only watch two types of films.....films with a strong inspirational current or indie films that delve into topics I can relate to.

"My Year Without Sex" is based on a married woman with children. She suffers a brain aneurysm and although she recovers, she is told she can not do any heavy lifting, sneezing, straining on the toilet, or orgasm. As the doctor says, three of those should be preventable.

I was pleased to see a film such as this. Having struggled with various health issues through the years, including Levator Syndrome, I can relate. Most men and women who struggle with chronic health issues will find many scenes in this movie they can relate to. However, this film also looks at it from the caretakers view also. The point is even made in the film that often the caretaker's role and needs are overlooked. I totally recommend this movie to couples where one has health issues that impedes the sexual relationship within the marriage.

I personally would not let my children see this film. This movie has a strong sexual undercurrent. It points out how society (this movie is based in Australia) is bombarding us with sex. This movie advocates for monogamy in a marriage and shows how adultery adversely affects all involved, even the mistress years later. Christianity is discussed throughout the movie, presenting it both from a devout Christian's viewpoint (even showing the devout Christian at moments of uncertainty) as well as from someone contemplating God's existence for the first time in their life.

This movie also touches on topics such as living on a tight budget, keeping up with the Joneses, and other scenes that will remind you of your own life!

Who Has It Worse Than?

For two weeks I’ve been in intense, debilitating pain. A week ago I prayed and told God I’d reached my limit. I begin to pray before doing each and every thing, even attempting to toilet. Four days ago I started crying each night after the children were in bed. Three days ago my husband had to start helping me shower and dress. Two nights ago I became completely overwhelmed and discouraged as I looked around at all the housework that was piling up.

Last night, I asked my husband to hold me. As he snuggled next to me and draped his arm over my side, the pain almost knocked me over. Each breath I took felt as if someone was driving a knife into my lung. I thought if I slowed my breathing….if I took small breaths instead, that I could bear it. But, instead, as much as I wanted the safety, comfort and security I felt wrapped in his arms, I had to ask him to please stop. Silent tears soaked my pillow. Before the night was over, I ended up lying, once again, on the floor to sleep. Sleep though eludes me. Every thing hurts, even my eyeballs. I sleep only when I am overpowered by the exhaustion, and even then I wake often.

 I can not count the times I’ve had to tell Pookie that I couldn’t hold him, cuddle with him, or even let him hug my neck because the pain is to intense. The pantry is getting bare as I haven’t even been able to make my mind work enough to process a grocery list or meal plan. The laundry is piling up, the house getting messy, everything becoming disorganized and behind, despite my attempts to keep it from happening again.

This morning I had a family meeting with the children and explained that I have truly reached the end of my rope. There is hardly anything I can do now. Once again, my children are feeding me and helping me move around. My husband is bathing me and dressing me. I’m having to cancel plans and events because the pain is to much. Once again, I am trapped within my body…….a prisoner confined by pain and fatigue…..the jail my own body.

This morning my 5 year old saw a commercial on television of a child with cleft palate. He asked about it and after explaining, I also explained that the child doesn’t have the money to go to the doctor. His face lit up and he said, “We have money to go to doctors. Let’s give him the money so the doctor can fix him. When he’s all better, I’m going to hold him, and hug him, and play with him!”

Today I thought of a mother whose only been given months to live. I thought of my uncle whose been diagnosed with lung cancer. I thought of my mother who has battled chronic fatigue and other issues since I was a child. I thought of my best friend who died 14 years old from a misdiagnosed brain tumor. I looked at the picture on my mantle of a precious angel taken long before his time at the hands of an abuser. My heart is swollen with the love I feel for all those struggling in this world and I know that not only am I not alone, but that I don’t have it “the worst”.

What is “the worst” you might wonder? Is it the person who dies alone? Is it the person who dies leaving behind children? Is it the children left behind? Is it the parent unable to be a parent who instead have her children caring for her? I could go on and on, yet there is one thing I have learned over and over again. There is only one group of people that really have it the “worst”.

That group is the people who don’t have God to carry them through when all their strength and energy is drained. The people who don’t know that God loves them no matter what has happened in their life. The people who, when they have no human being there for them, they don’t know they can turn to God with their cares and sorrows.

I Did It Again

After weeks of battling disabling pain, fatigue, headaches, nausea and more, I had started to feel better. My husband and I spent two nights away at a cottage where I slept the majority of the time. Feeling more refreshed then the preceding weeks, I decided to follow up the mini-vacation with a trip to Biltmore Estates. Overall, I accomplished more in one day then I'd been able to do in months. I alternated between my hip locking on me, and the pain in my head causing me to take many more breaks then I expected. I spent the majority of the time sprawled out in the grass on the estate as my five year old ran, flipped, and climbed walls (literally). When we stopped for dinner on the way home, I told my husband that I was in immense pain, but that it felt good to know the pain was a result of having done something. I told him that if I was going to hurt, I'd rather it be from accomplishing something rather then from laying around in bed. 

The next morning I woke determined to push myself harder then ever before. If I could hang with Biltmore, then I could at least catch up on some housework and start packing for our upcoming move. I tackled the kitchen. I pushed through the pain, the fatigue and the headache. I swept behind appliances, boxed up items to give away, and bleached everything that could be bleached. I even managed to drive a short distance down the road (although the pain almost prevented me from making it back home). 

I went to sleep last night thinking of how much I could get accomplished this week if I kept up at the same pace. I thought about how I'd always let the fatigue and pain stop me, but this time would be different. I allowed myself to dream of all the fun things I'd be able to do with the children with my new found strength and vigor. Dreams of hiking trips, fishing adventures, and field trips filled my mind as I feel into the embraces of sleep. 

Then, today came. I woke with a fatigue so severe I couldn't get out of bed. After a few more hours of sleep, I managed to make it to the couch where I gave the older two children their daily chore and schoolwork assignments. I checked a couple emails and messages, and went back to the couch. The fatigue and pain today has been unbearable. At noon I went to lie down with my youngest  during his nap/rest time. I slept for two hours only to wake feeling more fatigued and in pain then when I first laid down. I dragged myself to the couch and gazed upon the chores that I had dreamed of accomplishing today. I begin to berate myself for once again having gotten my hopes up. 

Don't I know that each time I dream of accomplishing "normal" things, I am deeply disappointed? Haven't I learned yet that the unbearable pain and fatigue always come back and stop me? How did I not know that if I "over-did" it, I'd pay for it? Why did I think this time would be different? 

Rather then sit and bemoan my misfortune, I decided to blog. To get it all out in print and release the despair I feel at this moment. 

I had a   physician tell me long ago that I was living in denial. That I was not accepting the limitations of my physical body and that until I did, I would remain unhappy and unable to feel contentment. She told me that I needed to quit thinking about the things I had done and enjoyed before, and find the "new me". How ironic that the things she tells me I am refusing to accept, are the same types of things that I feel makes my child so unique and special. 

So, here I am today. Once again let down from having allowed myself to dream of a "normal" life. Yet, I find comfort in the fact that I don't have to completely accept the "new me". I know that God has promised to one day "wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain." I think of the lyrics to one of my favorite songs where Chris Tomlin sings, "I will rise, when He calls my name, no more sorrow, no more pain." I know that God will strengthen me to accomplish His will today, no more and no less. I know that God "gives strength to the weary and increases the power to the weak......those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint."

While visiting the cottage on my husband's and my mini-vacation, I saw a quote in a book. It was a quote that I used to have posted in my bedroom as a child, in my locker at school, and in my cubicle at work. It merely stated, "Life is 10% how you make it, and 90% how you take it." 

My broken body today is out of my control. I can only do so much.....eating healthy, getting enough sleep, taking vitamins, stretching, etc.....the rest is out of my control. Yet, there is One who is in control and who provides me with all I need. I tend to lose sight of all God has given me and dwell on what it appears I have lost in my life. Yet, I have so much to be thankful and grateful for. God continues to bless me each and every day. Today I am even thankful that my pain and fatigue has caused me to stop and realign my thinking once more towards my heavenly Father.

Chronic Pain and Hiking

During the winter months, Fibro has this way of making you feel incomplete, like half a person. So much that you enjoy is taken away from you during the colder months that you jump at any opportunity to get that missing part of you back. Of course, that impulsiveness often has consequences that make you question whether it was worth it or not. This past Sunday was one of those times.

The weather here had been freezing cold for a few weeks. Much colder then our usual winters. I was bound in my home, wrapped up and praying for heat. Then, suddenly, our daytime temps went from in the 30s to high 50s!

This past Sunday, we got up to head to church. It was damp and a little rainy outside and a bit cool. Yet, after service, when we walked out it was warm and sunny! It felt wonderful and for the first time in several weeks I was able to take off my gloves!

There is a place I know of that offers level walking trails. They wind through the woods and alongside the river. The area promises sights of wildlife and beautiful views. Although my walking recently has been intermittent with wheelchair use, the weather was warm, the sun was shining and I was sick of being cooped up inside all winter! So, after a quick lunch, our family took off.

The walk started out fairly well. A couple places along the paths were flooded, but we could navigate fairly well around the spots. Our youngest decided to splash straight thru managing to soak himself from the knees down. Still, the temperature was warm enough that it wouldn’t harm him to be wet just for a bit. Planning to take the kids to the farthest point of the trail, and then take the short way back we excitedly begin our journey. A bit into the trail, it began to drizzle rain. It wasn’t enough to worry about and the children didn’t seem to notice.

Our daughter, who we suspect has fibro also, began to have pains in her legs. I was in a lot of pain myself so she and I lagged a bit behind the guys. We took breaks often and babied our sore beaten bodies. Yet, we were both so happy to be outside in warm weather and not cooped up at home.

We reached the point of the trail and was thrilled with the glorious view. Seagulls flock inland to the area we live in during the winter and the water looked white with them floating on it! 

The sun was peeking out of the clouds now and then and we enjoyed combing the riverbank looking for goodies.

Yet, what we discovered wasn’t quite so good. The banks of the river were filled with garbage and trash. We found softballs, tires, bottles, toys, trash, an old swingset…all kinds of things. 

It was so discouraging to see this beautiful creation distorted by the amount of garbage people had tossed into the river.

As the children and I were brainstorming different ways we could clean up the mess, our daughter's IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome) flared. She had to use the bathroom and we were at the farthest end of the trail from the bathroom! By this point in time, my monster had reared its ugly head and I knew I’d have to make the return trip slow and steady. Yet, my children are avid hikers and so we sent the two of them together along the trail back to the bathroom. In my fibro fog, I told the children at each trailhead to go right. We followed behind them.

At this point in time, the temperature rapidly began to drop. With the youngest being soaked, I took off his boots, socks and pants and put my sweatshirt on him upside down. In this way, the sleeves covered his legs and feet to warm him. My husband planned to carry him out.

But then we heard screams from the other two children. It sounded like they were saying something but we couldn’t hear what. Then the yells stopped. Worried that something may have happened, I sent my husband racing down the trail to the children (who were only a few minutes ahead of us). I waited a bit but when he didn’t return and I didn’t hear anything from him, I begin to worry. I put our youngest on my back, and fueled by fear and adrenaline began the hike back. To my horror, I realized I had not sent my children back the way we had come but instead the way that was completely flooded! There was no way I could get around the floods, much less the children.

By this point in time I’m really worried. I haven’t heard anything from my husband or older two kids. I HAVE to push on. Although I tried to walk around the deepest parts of the floods, fibro prevented me from being able to keep my balance. Scared that I would fall with my son, I ended up trudging right through the deep parts of the water.

I pushed and pushed and pushed. If something was wrong with my older two children, they would need me. Besides, the sun was setting and the gates would be closed and locked soon. There wasn’t going to be time for my husband to come back in on the trails and get our son and me out.

My body wouldn’t go anymore. I couldn’t feel my legs or feet and my hips were causing agonizing pain. I had no balance, and was shaky from the pain. I was scared. If something were wrong with the older two, I was of no use to them now! I couldn’t even get my youngest off the trail and back to our car. I prayed to God, asking him to please let me keep going. To please let me get back to the car and the other children.  I was crawling by this time, or so I thought. Let me explain.

I remember kneeling down and slowly crawling towards my destination. Yet, I suddenly realized that my knees and hands weren’t getting wet! I took a few deep breathes and saw that I was still standing! I didn’t feel like I was walking. I didn’t have the strength left for that. Yet, I had been!! . What had just happened wasn’t physically possible. I couldn’t walk another step.

I had stopped and was bending over with my hands on my knees. My youngest had fallen asleep on my back. His arms and legs hung straight down on either side of me. I couldn’t move and the pain was unbearable. I begin to softly cry. As I did, I heard the sweet voice of my youngest say, “Mommy, please don’t cry.”  I put one foot in front of the other and as I rounded the curve I had been standing in, I saw a tree stump with the sun shining down on it, despite all else being overcast. It was huge and was cut to the perfect height. I could easily sit down on it, not having to bend down or anything. It was big enough that my son could stand and walk around to get to my lap. I sat down thankful for a place to sit and wait. I sat looking at the trail in front of me, knowing that I couldn’t go another step and wondering how long it would be before help arrived.

I prayed that all was well and that help would come soon. As soon as I finished praying, I heard footsteps coming thru the woods behind me! Not from the trail, but thru the woods! I called out and it was my husband. He assured me the other children were fine. Upon realizing I had sent them back the wrong way, they had yelled to us to let us know that they were going back the way we had come (the short way). Then they had taken off and not heard our calls back. They had made it to the bathroom and were hanging out with the caretaker (whom they knew from previous visits). Yet, I was confused. How could my husband be thru the woods behind me? Had I taken a wrong turn in my fibro fog and pain? I told him to stay where he was and to keep talking. I could tell he was near to me and didn’t know exactly where I was anymore (though prior to hearing him had been confident to my whereabouts). I took just a few steps into the woods and was able to see him where he stood on the trail. He came down and got our son and I leaned against a tree to recoup. He helped me back to the trail and told me that if I just waited, he’d be able to come back and get me to. 

Only a short distance and both my older two children came running to assist me. Upon finding the trail map, I discovered that had I tried to push on instead of stopping whenI saw the tree stump, it would have taken much longer for me to get back to the vehicle. The trail wound back and forth before even getting toward the parking lot! Yet, by stopping when I did, my husband was able to find me quickly and get me back to the vehicle.

Upon arriving home, I was helped into my bed. After helping me get unclothed, warm dry clothing was put on me and blankets were piled on top. My children came and kept me company, filling me in on the events I had missed. We discussed how we had not thought to use the same rules we use when hiking, as we each had merely thought of this particular walking trail as nothing like our usual summer hikes. From now on, all walks will be considered hikes with the appropriate rules covered in a refresher course! 

That night I woke in severe pain. Three Lidocaine pain patches ended up lessening the pain in my hips just enough so that I was able to doze in a light sleep. The next morning I was confined, unable to move. The pain was unbelievable. Normally I would have beat myself up, knowing that once again I had made an impulsive decision and was stuck in bed as a result. Yet, all I could think about was how everything had worked out. Everything had happened, at just the right time, so that I was able to hear my husband walking back up the trail and cut of a huge chunk of distance and time. Sure, I’d made an impulse decision. It ended up with my being bedridden. Yet, sometimes the pain is worth it. 

Many of us with Fibro beat ourselves up daily. We beat ourselves up for not realizing we were out of spoons and using spoons from tomorrow. (The Spoon Theory). We beat ourselves up for not realizing that cooking that meal yesterday meant we couldn’t clean the kitchen today. We beat ourselves up for not accepting our own limitations, and for not realizing our potential. Fibro comes on so fast and strong, crippling the body and playing havoc on the mind. We feel so hopeless at times. If each day we knew what to expect, we each feel we could handle it better. Yet, what we can do today, we won’t be able to do tomorrow. It’s never the same. There is neither rhyme nor reason to Fibro.

It is so important, that when battling Fibro, we quit striving for the same perfectionism we had prior to our health problems. We were never going to reach the perfection we demanded of ourselves anyway. In some ways, that unrealistic drive was probably what caused our bodies to short circuit in the first place.

It’s time for Fibromites to quit looking at what was and start looking at who we really are. We are not defined by what we can or cannot do! 

I QUIT

Most of the time, you'll come to my blog and find, what I hope, is a small ray of sunshine. You might find information about fibro you didn't know thru useful links. You might find that there is someone else who knows exactly what you go thru and how it feels. Hopefully, you walk away comforted. This is one of the many ways I've come to learn to deal with my diseases.

Then, there will be days like today. Days when you come to my blog and I will tell you how I feel at this particular time. I day when I can't help but think, even if I know deep down it isn't true, that no one else knows the depths of despair that I feel at times.

This isn't an easy blog for me to post. It isn't the type of blog I ever thought I would post. But, if I've learned anything at all from my new fibromites and my new church family, it's that letting things out can be beneficial, comforting and healing. Yet, there's that part of me that's screaming..... "Whoa Whoa Whoa! What are you doing? Are you crazy? You know not to let people see this part of you. You know this makes you V U N E R A B L E !!!"

Yet, I started this blog with the intent to give people, both fibromites and those who know a fibromite, a realistic view of what dealing with chronic pain, fatigue, and mental fogginess is like. I've visited blogs where the fibromite (or other chronic pain sufferer) always posts bright cheerful posts, day after day, and never appear to have a bad day. They never lose hope, never get frustrated, and appear to be the "perfect" chronic pain sufferer. Well, I'm not buying that for one single minute.

So, what kind of day am I having? Well, I'm typing this from my electric wheelchair. Yeah, sure I'm grateful that at least I'm not confined to the bed. I'm grateful I have a home large enough now to maneuver the stupid clunk of metal and batteries. I'm grateful I can get around. Yet, I hate Hate HATE this stupid chair. I mean, it screams at me with this loud huge voice, "Ha ha, gotcha again!" I pass the mirror and feel like breaking it just so as not to see my broken body is this God forsaken chair. I feel like just screaming at the top of my lungs, but don't because I know that'll result in knotted muscles thru my jaws, neck, shoulders and send my pain level thru the roof and shooting into the farthest reaches of the universe.

My legs went on vacation. They'd been hurting for three days. Then, day before yesterday, from the knee down, they went on vacation. Suddenly instead of legs, I had two very large cooked spaghetti noodles. It wasn't like when your hand falls asleep and it feels heavy. Nope, my lower legs felt light as everything. I can't tell you the disgust I felt at moving them around and watching them flop around lifelessly. You can only imagine ........ well, actually if you haven't dealt with this, you can't imagine what it's like trying to sleep when you can't move your lower legs. But then again you probably don't know what it's like to wonder if you really hurt anything when you ran over your foot (that you can't move and can't feel at all) with your manual wheelchair. You know, the manual wheelchair you had your fiancée push you in because you were worried going to get the electric one would wake the 3 year old. The chair that you had to be pushed up to the toilet in and then had to have help getting on and off the toilet. Yeah, the chair that usually lets you know your going to feel humiliated and embarrassed at some point during the day.

My legs felt better yesterday when I woke. Better then they had in days actually. AND they were working better then they had in weeks! I knew to take it easy though and I thought I did. Apparently though, joining my fiancée and his mother for lunch (his birthday dinner) was too much because after only a couple minutes of standing thru the church's initial worship service, I felt my legs start to go out. I tried to "fake it" leaning against my fiancée and the row of chairs in front of me, but then suddenly he was holding me up completely and keeping me from falling to the floor. So, I sat down. I know that no one at my church looks down on me for having to take a seat during the worship service, but at the same time it was a blaring neon sign above my head flashing "ha ha ha fibro strikes again".

If you don't realize it yet, fibro is the biggest monster to have ever attacked me. That’s not a little thing. I’ve lost my virginity to rape. I faced beatings and rapes daily at the hands of the man who’d promised to cherish and honor me. I ran for my life down the road in the middle of the night carrying a 3 year old son and 3-month-old daughter. We survived, barely, and spent 3 months in battered women’s shelters before getting a place. I sat in the next room as my dear friend, unbeknownst to me, decided the hate from his own mother was enough reason for him to take his own life. I attended the funeral of my best friends little boy, who was brutally beaten, starved and abused by his step-mother before she finally gave the life ending blow. I have seen some of the darkest, vilest, most horrible things this world has to offer and I walked thru. Yet, even thru all this, fibro is by far the hardest, meanest, cruelest, most evil monster I have ever had to face. And on days like this I am sick and tired of this monster.

Where was I? Oh yeah, my legs (if you can call them that today). I left church last night in a wheelchair. Not my own because …..well, just because. When I got home my wheelchair was brought form the house so I could get inside. I didn’t sleep well last night. Kind of hard to do when you’ve got these dead weights attached to your body and have to reach down to move them by hand each time you want to reposition yourself. 

Today I woke and it all just hit. Due to the stress that has been inflicted upon me the last few months from others, my fibro has flared beyond belief. I’ve been toughing it out thru it, no choice really, and just kept moving forward. I’ve known that it was only a matter of time before parts of my body went on vacation. This has happened before and it was always when I was over stressed and pushed for to hard for to long. I just kept thinking….if I can just get thru “this”, then I’ll take a break. But then “this” would be done and “they” would create more trouble, resulting in another “this” to get taken care of. This has gone on since January! My body, instead of rebuilding and relaxing during the summer, instead of recouping from the pain and grossly limited mobility the winter inflicts had to deal with heaps and heaps of stress instead. This all has resulted in me being where I am now. Stuck in this stupid chair with parts of my body shutting down. And, I still have to go to court tomorrow, more stress. I KNOW it’ll get dismissed like the rest, but the preparation, time and energy put into preparing for the case has taken away so much of my life. I think all my spoons (refer to The Spoon Theory in right tab) are gone for the next 3 months!!! I’m so very tired.

Fibro is a monster that steps into your life and then takes you life. This monster takes everything from you. It takes your physical body and mangles it so that you are left with a husk that can only register pain, and does so in a totally whacked out pain. I have days where my children can not TOUCH me, much less hug or kiss me, because I can’t handle the pain. Today, my fingers feel like someone is cutting a gash against the top of each one as it strikes the corresponding key on the keyboard. The ceiling fan can’t be on today because the “comforting breeze” is actually razors scraping off my skin. I’ll probably be stuck in the same clothes I’m wearing today for the next few days cause their my frumpy fibro clothes I have to wear when my skin can’t tolerate anything else.

I’m dreading being stuck in the house. Since I can’t hold my head up very well, without enormous pain, I can’t use my manual chair. And with no way to transport my electric chair, it means I’ll be stuck at home for weeks. I don’t know how I’ll survive court tomorrow. I’m going to ask the bailiff to please hear our case first because after 30 minutes in my manual chair, I’ll be in to much pain to effectively present anything.

I guess it all boils down really to being tired. Tired of every little thing taking my energy. Tired of not being able to be the mother I want to be. Tired of having to have a messy house thru the cooler months. Tired of being cooped up inside. Tired of knowing this stupid monster is gonna reach up and grab hold of me at some point in time, no matter what I do.

Will I quit? No, I have three very very very important reasons to go on. I carried each of those reasons within my body for 9 months before I was able to meet them face to face. They’ve changed my life in a way that is indescribable and saved my life more times then I can count. I’ll keep waking up (since getting up may be out of the question) and show them a smile when I tell them I love them. They’ll remind me that even though sometimes they get mad that I’m sick and take it out on me, that they know it isn’t my fault and that they love me no matter what. I’ll look at their beautiful faces and know that they were, and always will be, God’s greatest gift to me.

So, yes, I’ll keep going. I’ll ask God to please let the feelings I have today to pass quickly. I prefer to be the one offering cheerfulness to others, the one that supports others, the one that holds it all together. I don’t like being the one in need. As yet, I haven’t reached the point where I have total acceptance of my diseases and the full limitations they inflict on me. I don’t think that’s a bad thing either. I remember when a psychologist with fibromyaligia told me, years ago, that my stating I would walk again was my living in a denial and I’d never be a complete person without accepting those limitations. Well, I didn’t accept them and after 2 years bedridden, I did walk again! You see, God knows exactly what my limitations are. He also knows exactly how he can use me for His will despite those limitations. My limitations change day to day. Today, I’m grossly and even, in my mind, disgustingly limited. But tomorrow is another day.

I want to take a moment to thank my beautiful children. You alone make each day worth living and I hope that you always know that. I know that sometimes, despite my best intentions, the pain of fibro pushes thru in the form of fangs, claws, pointed tail and pitchfork and I’m so sorry that you ever have to see me that way. Yet, you have been troopers. You’ve faced your own health issues and mine with a courage that I’ve never seen before. I not only love you guys, you are such a deep part of me that I know I was never whole before you each came into my life.

I also want to thank my fiancée. He opened his home to us when we had no where else to go. He had never made fun of my health issues, never told me he thought they were “all in my head” or “fake”, never encouraged me to “try harder”. He and I have our differences, and sometimes I wonder how I ended up with him as he does me, but life was so much more hard and lonely before he came along. Thank you my dear for all you’ve done.

I want to thank my fellow church members who have kept me in their prayers of late. I have the joy of seeing such wonderful scriptures posted on their various profiles and it seems they appear just as I need them. Also, I was supported today with their post of the following scripture.

“"I can do ALL things, through CHRIST, who strengthens me" Phillipians 4:13”

And last, but no where near least, I want to thank my new fibromite friends. This morning, I didn’t think I could make it thru the day. But they have left me the most amazing messages today. They have pulled together to catch me as I was falling and they are ever so gently lifting me up. I want to end this blog today with the beautiful messages they left me today. Because, without them, you wouldn’t have had the opportunity to read all this.

“Also, nobody expects or should expect everyone to be happy as a clam all the time. You are more than welcome to boohoo all you want.”

“I agree some days its just too much. You may feel like that”

“I am so sorry you are having a rough go at it today. You will be in my thoughts and prayers today. Please post later to let us know how you are doing. Hang in there. :-)”

“a good boohoo may not be just what the doctor ordered, but it sure helps us once in a while - so you go on ahead and let that boohoo out….! I'm really glad to see the words "want to quit" rather than "going to quit" - please, please, please keep it that way!”

“hang in there ….., hoping your day gets better.”

“Vent! Let it out! Get it off your chest! You can't be happy and upbeat all of the time-none of us can. We care about you and know what you're going through and are hear to listen anytime you need us. Please come here and know you are supported and loved……. just please don't try to hold it in. We are here to listen and help God hold you up when the going gets tough.”

“I hope you feel better, You are always here for the rest of us. We all get down, but remember we all care about you.”

“How can u be sad? You have wonderful kids, a loving husband to be, fb friends and your church. What you do not have time to be sad!!! I want you to look in mirror and smile no no Smile smile like you are 8 and just getting a new front tooth! Now isn't that better? :0)”

“always remember that you are a strong, inspiration to all of us that are suffering with you. You're blog and your comments are so meaningful to all of us. I will pray for peace for you today.”

“We are here for you Melissa rather its gloom and doom or uplifting. Rest today and gather your strength for tomorrow. I am still praying for you. Gentle hugs”

“don't give up sweetie pie, you are not alone! you have us. u must rest today and look hard for that beauty, you will find it, it is there! i promise. you have inspired me so much. just let this day be a grieving day and a bad day. it is ok to have a bad day and be down. we are here for you xo”

Amber with the beautiful eyes

I woke Saturday feeling absolutely fantastic (which for those of you without health issues would be like, "Oh my God I think I've been beaten") but for me was fabulous! I was able to walk walk walk without assistance and was able to talk coherently! I made it all day with minimal medications and was able to maintain with some stretches, yoga, meditation, and lots of prayer. I was able to spend the day with my family and enjoy a real "family day".

While visiting a park, a gentleman was pushing his daughter in her wheelchair near us. They were visiting from out of town and we started talking about the animals we were viewing. Amber was a beautiful 12-year-old girl. Her eyes watched me as I talked and when I mentioned a certain animal her eyes would follow where I indicated. Despite her confines of a wheelchair, I knew that Amber's mind was a typical 12 year old mind. If I had any doubts, the pictures of Johnny Depp taped to her chairs table erased them! I told Amber that when I was her age, I had a poster of Johnny Depp taped to the wall at the foot of my bed. Her whole face lit up and I was able to clearly see the most beautiful green eyes I think I've ever seen.

I spent quite allot of time with Amber and her father Saturday. I told them the history of the animals at the park as I had known it thru my life. We talked of their trip and where they were from. We discussed Amber's Cerebral Palsy and how it had been caused when she was an infant due to an infection. We spoke of my favorite uncle who also has Cerebral Palsy. We spoke of my own health problems and of local places I knew they could visit that was wheelchair accessible (due to my own personal experiences with such). We spoke of how my oldest son and Amber were the same age, having birthdays only days apart! We spoke of many things. Most importantly, we spoke of God. We both expressed our belief in God and that His hand is in all that we’ve had to face.

Throughout this walk and conversation, my children would flit back and forth. They had my undivided attention all day, which was rare for months with cooler weather and I suspect they were a bit jealous at first of my attention to Amber. As we left the park that day, I asked my children if they knew why I’d taken so much time with Amber and her father. They didn’t know but said I loved to meet new people. So, I explained……

“Kids, do you remember when I was always in my wheelchair? We’d go places and people would ask you questions that they should have asked me. They assumed that since I was in a wheelchair, and because of the way I laid limply, that there was something wrong with me mentally. They asked you questions because they didn’t think that I was able to understand. Do you remember those times?” The children remembered. “Well, I figure that people probably do that with Amber a lot! There is nothing wrong with Amber’s mind. She understands everything just like you do. Yet, because she’s in a wheelchair and doesn’t have control of her body like others, people assume she doesn’t understand, just like they did with me. That can be a lonely way to live.”

The children and I went on to discuss how living with an illness changes the way you look at the world. How it keeps you from judging people based on what you see. They said that they thought Amber would never do that and that she probably saw clearer then most adults. Then, they discussed how kids really could see people for what they were, but adults tend to see people for what they have.

Thank you Amber for sharing some of your day with us. You brightened our day and made it more special then it would have been without you. I’ll remember the color of your eyes and your beautiful smile for the rest of my days. Thank you.

How Chronic Illness Changed Me

  --> -->Before you start to read this blog, please know that you can click on the words that are colored blue to be taken to website that will give an explanation of the word. Thank you for your time in reading today's blog. Thank you to my family and friends for inspiring me to make my writings public and thank you to my online fibromite family for giving me the support and understanding I've lacked all these years!

I was on top of the world. I was working a fabulous job that I loved with great money and great benefits. I had two perfect well-behaved children. I was moving to the state I loved. I was going after the "American Dream". I would have my own home, a nice car, and my children would never have to wear hand me down clothing again. Nothing and no one was going to stand in my way. Or so I thought. 

I woke the morning before I was to rent my U-haul and couldn't move my legs. I thought I'd had a stroke. I was terrified. Within a week's time, I was in so much pain I thought of banging my head into the wall to knock myself unconscious. The only thing that stopped me was I feared I wouldn't succeed and would only hurt worse (although I wasn't sure that was possible). 

I remember lying in bed as still as I could because every movement was like razors carving up my skin and as if knives were slashing thru my innards. I couldn't stand it when the air/heat cut on cause the air currents moving across my skin were agonizing. I had to force myself to chew food since doing so created driving pain in my jaw. I had never experienced such pain. Me, who had stood proud after giving birth to a 9 pound, 4 ounce, and 21 inch long child with no medication at all........couldn't handle this. My children had to aide me to the bathroom and fend for themselves at the young ages of 5 and 2 years of age. 

So begin my trip to a specialist. A rheumatologist. I thought he'd be my savior. He supposedly knew all about the Rheumatic disease that it was suspected I had. I ended up being diagnosed with Mixed Connective Tissue Disease (exhibiting signs of Lupus and Polymyositis), Reynaud's Phenomena, and Fibromyalgia. I was overwhelmed, scared, terrified. I was so glad that I had a doctor who was able to diagnosis me, and who could give me the help I needed. 

During the period I saw this doctor, I listened to him wholeheartedly. I was devastated when he told me I would never get better then I was then, that I would stay on medications my entire life and that I would always require care (such as the nurse that then came to my home each day to bathe me, feed me, and help with my medications). When the doctor prescribed me a new medication, or upped my dosage, since I was getting worse and not better, I obediently took my medicine. After all, isn't that what we are supposed to do? 

By the time I quit seeing this doctor, I was on 21 prescriptions. My 5 foot 7 inch frame had dropped to 89 pounds. My toenails and fingernails had fallen off, my head had numerous bald spots, and the inside of my mouth was raw and painful. I couldn't move, couldn't eat, and honestly believed I was going to die soon. My children cried often due to my deteriorated health and their own fears concerning my illness. 

I left that doctor and his over prescribing ways and settled for a local home doctor who didn't believe I needed to be dosed to the gills! After a year, I was able to pull myself out of my wheelchair and stand with assistance. I remember the first time I walked with help! I remember the first time I made it halfway around the block (with assistance but still walking). I was carried home the rest of the way....but I HAD WALKED!! With each step I took I thought to myself, "Hmpf Doctor......I'll show you". 

I ended up marrying (a mistake but another blog for another time) and got pregnant with my third child. Suddenly, it seemed I was CURED! I felt it as early as my second week pregnant. I was ecstatic. Although my marriage was falling apart, and we were losing our home....I could move, walk, hike even! I took the kids and spent 3 months on the Appalachian Trail with them. It, to date, was the best time of my life! When cold weather came my body started to ache again. I moved temporarily in with my parents and the rest of the pregnancy was painful to every part of me....some parts I didn't even know could hurt! 

I've never gotten back to that wonderful feeling I had when I was pregnant. I've since had a hysterectomy so I won't get it back again in that way. I did stay in remission from the Mixed Connective Tissue Disease that I had and to date, it hasn't come back! 

I'm no longer chasing the American Dream. I'd like to own my own land, and will do so, but it's no longer a motivating factor in my life. I've had to change my perspective in life. I've had to learn how to, each and every day, find the beauty in the world. Often it's the smile of one of my children, or their hug when it doesn't hurt too much. Sometimes it's a butterfly floating past the window, or the leaves as they fall from the trees. Many times it's something I never saw as beautiful before, like the way a millipede moves it's legs when it moves. 

I've had to learn to live with things that before I would have never lived with. Sometimes it's dirty dishes in the sink overnight cause I can't bend over to load them into the dishwasher. Or maybe it's having to wear super soft clothing with little to no seams when I go out, even though I think I look froopy. It could be the kids having to eat cold cereal for breakfast or canned ravioli for dinner. I used to beat myself up over these things....but in the long run, is that what anyone will remember? 

I've learned to laugh at all kinds of things. I've learned to joke around about the things I can no longer, or rarely do. I laugh when crazy things come out of my mouth because Fibromyalgia affects your brain. I joke with the kids when I'm limping around and they lovingly refer to me as "Mama Gimp". And sometimes I laugh for absolutely no reason at all! 

I also cheer the small victories. Shaving my leg, cooking a meal, remembering to call someone, making it through the grocery store, even being able to make the grocery list. These are the small things that I celebrate. Recently I started a new medication and was able to do math. Now, that may not seem like a big deal until you look at my history. Prior to Fibromyalgia, schooling was no problem. I was the straight A, 4.0 GPA student. After Fibro, simply math stumped me. Suddenly, with the new medication, I could do math again! When I told my children and showed them, their faces lit up and they hugged me. We cheered and celebrated all day, much to others people's amazement! Hey, when life gives you lemons.......make lemonade! 

I've learned never to judge a book by its cover. I remember one day at a supermarket being outraged that I'd just seen someone pull into a handicapped parking spot and then walk in as if nothing was wrong with him. I figured it was their grandparent's parking decal. I was livid! Yet, now I'm often the person parking in the spot and walking in as if nothing is wrong. Granted, I can make it in, but after getting what I need, I most likely won't make it out so well, or even without help. I remember looking at people who wore baggy sweats, hair undone, and overall looking frumpy and shaking my head. I mean, couldn't the at least take the time to dress? Now, I'm the one wearing frumpy clothes since my skin won't tolerate anything else. I'm the one with messy hair since I couldn't lift my arms to reach behind my head to brush it. Yeah, I don't judge people by what I see anymore. 

I've learned that playing a board game with your kids means more to them then wearing new clothing. I've learned that cooking a meal and being able to feed my loved ones brings me much more satisfaction then driving a new car. I've learned that the "American Dream" wasn't my dream after all. 

Fibromyalgia has changed me. It's made me see life for what it truly is. It's made me appreciate those I love and those who love me even more. Would I take my life before Fibro if it were offered to me again? Would I choose to live pain free if it meant going back to who I was before Fibro? Sometimes I get depressed and feel overwhelmed. Sometimes I long and cry for a day with no pain. Sometimes I complain. Would I choose to live pain free if it meant going back to who I was before Fibro? Nah..... I don't think so. Fibro, in a way, saved me!

I Got To Shave My Legs !!!!

I've mentioned previously that with fibro, you have to find beauty in different places then before. Often, that beauty is found for you. 

Shaving my legs is a big deal for me. I have to carefully weigh the pros and cons of doing so. Will it require so much energy that afterward I won't be able to care for the children? Will it cause so much pain afterward that I won't be able to sleep? Do I have enough spoons left for the day to do so? (shaving legs takes about 3 spoons) 

Today I had a lot to consider. First, my legs were starting to look a lot like a man's. Although I could care less, we do live in a society that dictates that most women shave their legs. Second, tonight is our financial class and I needed to be able to make it there. Third, I still have to dress, dry my hair, and prepare dinner. 

Today has been a good day though. The head pain that has been plaguing me on and off for the last few weeks is today, just a nagging pain. I was able to stretch out alot of the knots I woke with this morning and figured a long period of time in a hot shower would work out the rest. Dinner is going to be easy tonight as it's BarBQ Chicken, baked potatoes, and corn on the cob. Once my roommate gets home, he'll take over making sure the children are ready to go and all I will need to handle is getting myself out the door. Overall, it seemed like a good day to do it. 

*sigh......as I type the bottom finally let out and it's now pouring rain. Rain and I disagree. Cold and I disagree. Put them both together and we practically hate each other. We'll see how it goes. I'm off to start dinner. I usually try to start it 3 hours before it's time to eat since I now have to take so many breaks in between and it takes twice as long to do certain tasks. 

But you know....even if the rain gets me down, even if I miss the class tonight, even if I end up to exhausted or in to much pain to do anything...............

MY LEGS ARE CLEAN SHAVEN!!!! WHOO HOO!!! 

Changes

Today started as every day does with me. I open my eyes and am instantly bombarded with the pain throughout my body. Then, I feel exactly how exhausted I am from the lack of sleep I've gotten through the night. I feel a sense of dread knowing that as soon as I move, a thousand, brilliant flashes of pain will flash through parts of my body I never even noticed I had before I got "sick".

Yet, once again, the demands of motherhood necessitate that I do what seems to be the impossible. One of my children come to help work out the knots that have formed thru the night. It's ironic in a way, if I didn't have them, I'd probably give up and stay in bed. But, since I do have them, they help me every morning reach the goal of getting out of bed.

After the children work on me a bit, it is time for me to drag myself out of bed. I must forcefully straighten my body as I walk to the bathroom, thinking to myself that I should probably use my wheelchair to conserve strength. But, I stubborn. I have to at least make it to the bathroom with some semblance of self before I'll start my day.

My day consists of nothing compared to my life before illness and chronic pain. Yet, I've learned to fill the voids that existed when my former life was taken from me. My days now consists of checking the kids schoolwork, planning dinner according to how much pain and energy I'll have by then, checking my emails, and now this....letting others in to know my daily battles.

Dinner is always tricky. I have to plan it first thing in the morning. I usually have a good idea then of what I'll be able to accomplish. I weigh out my to-do list, figure out how much energy and strength it'll take, then figure out how much is left for dinner. Our cabinets and fridge range in food from purely instant to practically gourmet. The latter doesn't happen in the cooler months, but sometimes during the summer I'm able to plan ahead to take a day to cook. It's one of my own indulgences that leaves me unable to do anything the following 2-3 days. Yet, some things are worth it and cooking a wonderful home cooked meal for my family is worth being out of commission for a few days.

The children's schoolwork doesn't always make sense to me. Hard to believe that I was a straight A student and now I struggle at times to figure out if the children did their work correctly. Often, while looking at their work, I have that nagging feeling that I know the answer....it's there somewhere.....lurking in the far depths of my mind where the fibro fog has covered it in layers.

If I'm having a good day, I'll manage to get a few loads of clothes folded. My oldest puts the clothes from the washing machine into the dryer. My middle child takes dry clothes from the dryer and puts them on the couch for me to fold. They both alternate helping me get the clothes sorted and into the washer to start the process. Although I often refer to The Spoon Theory to tell how my day is, I find that I tend to also weigh it according to laundry folded. Folding three loads of laundry is a really great day for me and probably means that dinner will not be completely instant!

Each day there is one thing that remains constant. That throughout all of it, I could not do anything without Him. He gives me the courage to go on when I feel I can't handle another thing. He gives me extra spoons when I need them (read The Spoon Theory to understand the significance of spoons). He soothes me when I cry, patiently listens when I am angry and yelling my wrath, and offers me comfort even when in my distress I disrespected him.

Remember "Footsteps in the Sand?" I read it as a child for the very first time. I purchased the address book I read it on and still to this day have possession of the outer cover of that address book. I look back over the scenes from my life, and can only rarely see a time when their were two sets of footsteps. God has carried me the majority of my life. What would I do without Him?

My desire now is to come to a place in my life where there are usually two sets of footsteps. A place where I am standing on my own two feet and with God's help can reach out to others and help them face the horrors I have in life. My illnesses knocked me off that goal for a while, but I've come to realize it is only one more pair of shoes I have worn. It opens the way for that many more people to be reached. I've walked in many shoes. Now it's time for me to find the pair that fits me and wear them from here on out. He'll be there for me through it all. I could never have made it without Him.

He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart. Psalms 91:4