26 Apr

Without the label of fibromyalgia

Posted by DOGKISSES in Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, fibromyalgia, health. Tagged: , , , , , , , , .

why do some people dislike labels when they help us understand what is going onWithout the label of fibromyalgia, I’m a human being in severe pain.

I am a human being who feels pain 24/7, 365 days a year.

Without the label of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome — I am a human being who is more than simply exhausted.

I’m not talking about the kind of tired I used to feel after a hard days work.  Not the kind of tired some people say I might have, “because I don’t run ten miles a day like they do,” or “because I write,” or “because I need to get out more often.”

People who think they know why I’m tired or in pain, who don’t know one little iota of truth about fibromyalgia and Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, are people whose opinions mean zilch to me.

I was a firefighter.  My training made me so tired I had to go to the doctor.  This was before any diagnosis of fibromyalgia or Chronic Fatigue Syndrome.  This was before Lyme disease in 2003 and near death from Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever in 2005.

I got over being tired after that training.  The doctor, who is a homeopathic physician, told me to rest and drink fluids with electrolytes.  So I did and after a day or two,  I could run with the best of them again.

Without the label of fibromyalgia, I am a person who has severe problems sleeping.  I never get good sleep.

Without the “label,” I am a person who sees days where taking a shower wears me out.  I get all nice and clean.  I get dressed.  I fix my hair.  Sometimes I even put a little makeup on.  Then I take my shoes off and fall on my bed from sheer exhaustion.

Without the label, I am a person who cannot live an active life.  Some days I’m a person who spends the day in bed, not sleeping, too tired to read, too tired to move, who just lies there like the living dead.

Without the label, I am a person who strives to make it through one trip to the grocery store and 98% of the time I can’t get all that I intended to get.  I could if I used one of the riding carts or whatever they are called, but I’m not there yet.  I’m not at a place in my mind where I feel I’m ready to reveal to the public how disabled I am by FATIGUE.

Without the “label” I am a person who hurts when I take wet clothes out of my washer.  I am a person who hurts when I push a vacuum cleaner.  Many days, I’m a person who feels like a plastic bag weighs ten pounds.

Without the label, I am a person who gets so tired that my brain seems to collapse inside my head.  This is called, brain fog, but some people can’t take labels.

Without the label of brain fog, I’m a human being whose brain stops functioning and I have a hard time adding 2 + 2!

Without the label, I would be quite confused as to what the hell is happening each and every moment I live!

Too tired to say how tired I am of people who don’t know squat about what it means to live with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and the pain of fibromyalgia.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Image of ferns by, “The Graphics Fairy”

I chose the image of the fern because even plants have labels.  I stand on both sides of the fence, or perhaps I’m the FenceSitter, regarding the use of labels in medicine.   Labels are useful but can be abused.  Labels can be used to identify a whole person and I believe, those of us who have an ongoing health issue, illness(es) or disease(s), know that we are more than a label.  We remain fully human.

Thank you for visiting my blog.



26 Apr

I AM FREE

Posted by DOGKISSES in Canine companions, pet loss, pet poem. Tagged: , , , , .

I AM FREE


I am Free.
I once had four legs with webbed paws.
I swam in rivers, lakes, ponds and the ocean.
I plopped down in big ‘ol dirty mud puddles too.

I absolutely loved water!
I fetched sticks and balls
and anything my human friends threw for me.

I loved it on earth!
I had a great human mom
and a terrific big brother to play with me.

I went camping and traveled
all around the country
with my beloved human family.
We had lots of fun!

I loved them very much and they loved me too.
I once ran so fast into a stick that I had to have surgery.
I was very enthusiastic about fetching!

I swam in just about every river in the southeastern United States.
I camped in most of the national forests.

I went all the way to New Mexico and once lived on a horse farm in Texas.
I was named after a horse that my human mom’s friend knew.

I did lots of fun things during my life on earth.
I totally digged food and raw meat bones!
I ate all sorts of things that my human family thought I shouldn’t have.
I once ate an entire bag of Halloween candy!


Chocolate, caramel, suckers, chewing gum, even the paper.
I liked everything in the bag, except for the very hot red balls.
I tried each one but that was no fun.

I was a very good girl but I did steal toys from neighbors.
I was kind of spoiled.

As I got older I didn’t care much for other four-leggeds in my territory.
I did like one in particular.
I loved visiting her and running in her grass.
She lived on a farm at my human aunt’s house,
so I guess, we were first cousins.

I lived on earth almost 13 years.  That’s almost 90 human years.
I enjoyed my life and loved my family,
so I will tell of that and our wonderful years together.

I want my human family to remember our fun times.
I want them to be happy when they think of me.
I am Free.

In Memory of my Free Girl, who blessed this earth from 1993-2006.

14 Apr

A bright star and a drop of heaven

Posted by DOGKISSES in Canine companions, depression, mental and emotional health, relationships. Tagged: , , , , , .

“My Buddy is a Dog”

A letter from a smart girl to a smart dog, with Love.

I received this letter today from a sweet and wonderful girl who has obviously fallen in love with my dog.  My dog’s name sounds like “Roofy,”  so I left the letter as it is, except for my input to correct my name, “Ms. Dogkisses.”

This was a long winter for me and my dogs.  I was injured from a bicycle accident and then a serious cut to two fingers.  There were many days when I could not walk them too far and some days not at all.  My young 4legged companion,  “Roofy,” really needed a friend to play with her.

With the dawn of Spring we met our new neighbor.

“Roofy,” runs as fast as she can and the girl holds on, running behind her laughing the entire time.  It’s hard not to smile seeing them run like they do.  It’s hard to stay down in the dumps in their presence, so I don’t.

“Roofy’s” new buddy is a bright star for us both.  One day when I was sad, she had a bowl of jelly beans her dad had dropped off a few minutes earlier.  They were amazing jelly beans.  One tasted exactly like buttered popcorn.

“I know how to make you laugh,” she said.

“How?” I asked, smiling some, trying not to cry.

“If you eat two different flavors at the same time, it will taste so bad that you will laugh.”

So I tried it.  I couldn’t see how this was supposed to make me laugh, but I figured why not and that maybe she knew something about laughter that I don’t.  She was certainly right about them tasting bad together.  The two I chose tasted like cheap whiskey.  I made an ugly face and she smiled.  She was waiting on me though before she laughed.

Her anticipation was clearly visible.  I had to smile,  not from the taste of whiskey, but at the abundance of life in her face.

Joy is easy for her to reach and the hope in her eyes that she could make me laugh was simply beautiful.   Several times since we met, I’ve felt the desire to at least allow a door for joy to enter.

I had mentioned in front of our young friend that one day I might move.  I  wish I hadn’t said it.  I was just thinking out loud, but she immediately responded saying she would miss us, well, she specifically said my dog.  I immediately regretted having said anything about moving, especially since I’m not planning on it anytime soon.

Children and young people think more about now than yesterday or tomorrow, kind of like dogs.  They really do know how to live.

That night she wrote this letter.  I read it while she visited me today.  She asked me to tell her my three favorite things about the letter.

I was completely moved.   I told her I loved the entire letter, which I do.  I told her I especially liked the first line, and then how she described her feelings so well.  I didn’t know she enjoyed writing.

I didn’t tell her that the last line made me a little sad because one day I might have to move.  But again, that is the future and the girl and the dog do not live in the future.  I was sorry to have mentioned it.  Honestly, if she said her family was moving, I’d be sad too.

Every day I look forward to the school bus now.  Every day that I am blessed with a visit with the girl, I feel happy.   I wish I’d had more children but I didn’t.  I wish I had a daughter and my son had a sister, but we don’t.

Life is amazing isn’t it?  With pain, sadness and grief, there are these bright moments that seem like they are no less than drops of heaven sent straight into our laps.  I guess that’s why we endure hard times, because we know there will be these precious moments that make us glad to be alive.

All those long winter nights when I cried, and cried some more, and then I silently prayed.  I prayed for help in this world — on this physical planet we call earth.  My heart had a hole in it so I’m glad it is being filled with joy and the love between a girl and a dog.

I love my dogs.  They give so much.  They are truly amazing animals so of course I want them to be happy.

They help me more than any medicine doctors have ever had available for depression.  They give me a reason to keep going when everything around me is falling down.  They love me when I’m sick or in pain.  They love me every single day, even on days I’m too sick to walk them.

In my darkest hours they are here for me and they know.  They know when I am in the darkness of grief.  The lower I fall the closer they move their furry bodies to mine.  Sometimes I think I’ll get smothered if I don’t get my butt up and live a little.

It was true.  The day the girl didn’t come, “Roofy” watched the window and every time she heard people outside she got excited, until she realized it was not her new friend.  She let out a little sigh each time.  I could tell she missed her friend that day.

Today they were both happy.  They climbed a steep hill together.  The girl is a bright star and the dog is a little drop of heaven.  They are quite a pair.

I have a new friend!

This is a picture of my Egyptian princess on a day she is happy with her new friend.

I call her an Egyptian beetle-hound princess because she has natural eyeliner and beauty marks that remind me of Cleopatra.  She also hunts and finds insects.   In photos, her eyes almost always have the green glow around them.  I guess this is “red eye” in a dog’s world.

A couple of days after this happy day the girl, “got on the A-B honor roll for the first time.”  She was proud of herself.  I wondered if her new friend has helped her as much as she has helped us.

10 Apr

Just in time.

Posted by DOGKISSES in invisible illnesses, life, mental and emotional health. Tagged: , , , , , .

“Ms. Dogkisses,”  the woman said, “Why do you wait until the very last minute to pay your bill each month?”

I looked at the clock on her wall.   In my world, 4:45pm was early.  Her office closed at 5:00.  It wasn’t only the time of day,  it was also the last day of the month that I could pay my bill without my auto insurance being canceled, so I was just in time.

I didn’t know what to say.  I guess I looked bewildered because her level of irritation immediately lessened.  She sat down at her computer and asked me to have a seat.  So I did.

I work under pressure.  Sometimes within minutes of a deadline.  It probably has a lot to do with chronic fatigue.  Maybe the pressure of a deadline gets my heart pumping and my adrenaline flowing and that’s the only way I can work!

She had a bowl of candy on her desk — with the good candy in it, like chocolate Kisses.  It was not your average office candy bowl with the hard peppermint candy or artificially flavored suckers.  I politely asked if I could partake and her warm smile made me feel like I could have the entire bowl if I wanted it.

Enjoying the chocolate I began to talk.  Sometimes, when I’m upset or nervous and must interact with people I talk too much.  I tend to tell the truth about what’s going on in my life.  I just start telling.  I usually manage to get a few laughs as I try and wrap my pain in humor.  Sometimes  it backfires and someone cries.

It takes energy for me to pretend I’m okay when I’m not.  Since my energy is endangered and possibly on the brink of extinction, I don’t try as hard anymore to make others feel better about how I feel.  I try to follow the social norms as much as I can, and manage pretty well most of the time.  Sometimes things get me, little things such as the normal greeting we are use to in America, “Hello, how are you?”

We are supposed to say fine and move on.  It’s easy to say fine to someone like the clerk at the register in the grocery store, but other times it’s harder.  The other day I was checking in for occupational therapy for my hand.  The clerk asked me how I was doing.  Well, I was very sick.  I was dizzy and thought it possible I might pass out before I could get upstairs.

“I’m fair,” I said, and I even gave a hint at a smile.  She was disappointed.  I get that a lot.  Fair is simply not good enough for many people.  I’m amazed at the responses I get from complete strangers because I said I was fair.

So, there I am paying my bill, feeling nervous that I interrupted this woman’s day by arriving just in time and I start talking and telling.  I tell the woman a few things about my life.  I tell her about my time.  I tell her that I have a son dealing with some hard things in life.  I tell her I’m overwhelmed.  I eat some more chocolate.  I don’t know exactly what it was I said that she most related to but she suddenly stopped typing.

She turned to me and asked if I would tell her more.  Her eyes had teared up.  I told her a little more.  Then she tells me.

She tells me how odd it is that I came in when I did and said what I said.  She tells me how she is completely moved by the things I said.

“I’ve never heard someone talk about these kinds of…” she paused, “problems or illnesses, whatever they are, the way you just did.”

I wasn’t sure how I had talked about anything other than being open about the way I felt.

She told me about what was happening in her life, which sounded a lot like what was happening in mine.  I listened.

Before I left her office she told me she had an epiphany, although I wasn’t sure what it was.  She said my timing had been personally important to her.    She was overwhelmed, as I was.  I don’t think she had a way to put that into words.  I guess that’s what she heard from me.  A way to talk about what is hard.

One thing that I think changes for those of us who live with chronic illness is time.    We are given time to reflect and think about life.   We also learn, as it seems we must,  how to talk about the difficult things in life.  This isn’t easy.  I believe that learning how to better talk about what is hard is part of our healing journey.

It’s hard talking about what is difficult to talk about.

I’ll probably continue to talk too much when I’m nervous.  I’ll probably continue being too honest at times.  I have tried to change this about myself,  but I can’t and I’m too tired to fight who I am.  I’ll most likely continue saying I’m fair when fine is just too far for me to grasp.

I’ve been told I wear my heart on my sleeve, that I cannot hide and that my eyes tell things about me.   I have in a way been forced by this part of who I am to learn how to talk about what people see; what I cannot hide and do not want to anyway.

Sometimes this part of being me works out alright.  My nervous honesty worked out alright paying my bill.  I think I’ve gotten myself out of a couple of tickets with sudden outbursts of utter truth.  I told the truth about why I was speeding (hard times!) and then another time about why I was driving — briefly without a seat belt — while tired in the middle of the night (hard times again!).   Both times the truth came out of my mouth faster than I could think.  Both times the truth was so bazaar the officers let me go.

Sometimes it’s good to talk about what is difficult to talk about.

The image of French Rose by, “The Graphics Fairy.”




6 Apr

When being too tired is an emergency

Posted by DOGKISSES in Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, depression, fibromyalgia, health. Tagged: , , , , , .

night light

I write with little energy.  I cannot communicate with my favorite blogging friends for now.  What I thought was a severe episode of chronic fatigue syndrome and with it, some serious brain fog, is unfortunately more than this.

I went to the ER because I was exposed to pneumonia followed by a weird chest pain with a new cough.  The fatigue had worsened and the brain fog turned into confusion.  I couldn’t do my paperwork.  I got scared.

I don’t have pneumonia but was admitted to the hospital so they could watch my heart, which they did.  They watched it run slowly all night. It stayed between 45 and 50 beats per minute until the nurse came in at 3am with the maintenance man to fix the heater’s thermostat, which wasn’t broken.  It did go up then but not for long.

They discharged me early, partly because I had begged.  I can’t leave my dogs.  I have bills to pay.  Things that must get done this week.  I agreed to follow up with doctors, which I’ve done as I write.

Right now I’m like my sister’s cell phone was a few minutes ago — working with only one bar.

My discharge papers reads, “Sinus bradycardia.”

What I know is I’m dead tired.  I got to where my fingers couldn’t type.  I couldn’t pick up the telephone when it rang and it was beside the bed!  I couldn’t do anything.  I knew I had to seek help.

After monitoring my heart all night, then having a few conversations with a very good doctor, he decided that the slow heart rate is a nutritional problem.  He believes that I’m not eating enough.  He may be right.

When I said I had a broken heart, well, I guess it goes to show that our emotions are very much a physical part of being human.

I had a lot of grief over the past year.  I had many changes too.  Lately, things have actually been changing for the better, but I guess life gave me a bit more sadness than my heart could take.

The sadness I have gone through reminds me of the Kudzu that grew in the mountains where I lived, as well as where I live now.  You pretty much have to go in and blast the foundation to get rid of this plant.

The new leaves are supposedly nutritious and can keep a person alive.  I think there are medicinal uses for the plant, but of course, I can’t remember what they are.  I’m running on low.  I do remember that you can only eat the fresh leaves in the springtime, otherwise it is a poisonous plant.

I had myself a session with a psychopath, exposing me to an awful growth of toxins.  I ate from the autumn vines with the darker bigger and poisonous leaves and they made me sick!

Hopefully, and I am hopeful as I write, I think simply from having written, I will heal and very soon.


4 Apr

An insect hunter with a tender heart

Posted by DOGKISSES in Canine companions. Tagged: , , , , , .

The pretty princess in the photo is an insect hunter.  Aside from hundreds of captured insects, she has caught a rat, a squirrel and discovered a snake under my bookshelf. The rat was gross, and dead.  I did not witness the slaying of the poor squirrel, but my mom’s landlord did and watched the entire scenario without coming to tell me what she was doing, which as I said, was killing a squirrel.  And yet she is the most sensitive and sweetest dog I’ve ever met!

Anyone will tell you so because it’s true.  She’s my, “tender-heart,” a fellow-doglover who once met her told me.  Her tenderness and sweet spirit shines, especially to people who can see these sorts of things.

She wanted to get that snake.   I was too scared and dialed 911, but that’s another story.

Insect hunting is by far her greatest skill.  She discovers every crawling creature that enters our home.  Sometimes at night we’ll be lying together in the dark watching television.  She’ll be curled up in her little ball with her head tucked in between her legs, sleeping like dogs sleep, and all of the sudden she’ll jump up.  I know she has suddenly become aware of a bug.

I don’t know if she hears bugs crawling or smells them, but she sure knows when they are about and I’m talking anything from the smallest spider to those huge long awful looking bugs that folks around here call water bugs.

I get up and follow her wherever she goes; into the kitchen or often near the fireplace.  I wait ’til she stops, which she does, and stares.  I turn on a light and try to kill it before she gets to it.

I kill spiders and bugs in my home.  I didn’t use to do this, but now that I live in the woods and have nearly died from Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever,  I figure from now on, it’s survival of the fittest.

The other skill my insect hunter has is judging people’s nature.

We both have a new friend now as a result of her ability to attract nice people.  Our friend is ten years old.  She is as sweet as my four-legged is!

They have fallen in love with each other.   Our new friend is not only really sweet but is also strong and tall.  She can definitely handle the leash when my tender princess takes off running and pulls as hard as she can.  Watching the smiles on both their faces as they run together is awesome!

Yesterday they played and I could tell it was hard for the little girl to leave.  She wanted to stay with us but I was sick and needed to go inside and rest.   She looked into my dog’s eyes, gently stroking her soft little face and head.  My dog’s eyes stared directly into the girl’s, and it sure looked like love to me.

The little girl noticed it.  Realizing she couldn’t stay with us, she sat down on my porch amongst the leaves and branches, which didn’t bother her at all.   “Does she say bye to everyone this way?” she asked me.

“No, she doesn’t,” I told her, which is true.  “She loves a few people more than anyone else,” I added.  “She loves my son, but she has taken to you for sure.”

“She’s the greatest dog in the world,” the girl said.  ” I love her.”

I had hugged our other dog as she was rubbing the silky fur my insect hunter is covered in.  She had watched me.  I sensed that she really wanted to hug her new 4legged love.   I wondered if she had ever hugged a dog and remembered my first time.

I was in Texas with my girl Free who blessed this earth from 1993 – 2006.  My good friend asked me if I talked to my dogs.  I realized I didn’t.  She asked if I ever gave them big hugs the same as I would a person.  I didn’t.  She taught me that day how to love more my canine companion.

I remembered how great it felt the first time I gave Free a big strong hug and began talking to her.  I hugged her pretty much every day after that.  Now, if I forget to hug my dogs, then something was wrong with the day.

Our new young friend stood there, a bit antsy it seemed, and realizing she had to leave she reached down and hugged her furry friend.   I could tell she loved it.  The only thing she seemed to be aware of was the experience of the love of a dog.

It was an awesome love to witness.

My dog has brought me a new friend.  We both love being with her.  They run and sometimes we talk.  I love our conversations.  You don’t have to pretend around children.  You can just enjoy the moment because that’s how they live.  In the moment.  A lot like dogs.

A Dog's Welcome Home

29 Mar

Romance, after the Narcissist

Posted by DOGKISSES in human relationships, mental and emotional health, narcissists, relationships, stories. Tagged: , , , , , , .

Milano, Italy

Image via Wikipedia

“I can give you a better kiss than the one I gave you before,” he said, flirting with me over the phone.  Our lips had touched gently and briefly as a parting gesture the week before.

“You can,” I responded.  It was partly a question and a little flirting back.

“You bet I can,” he said and that was pretty much it for me.   His confidence gave me butterflies and weakened my knees a bit.   I was shaving my legs within the hour, so I knew.

I was also using some lovely citrus body scrub, along with Neutrogena’s Sesame oil, both products having been gifts from the narcissist I had a relationship with, if you call what we had a relationship.  I had one, but I have no clue what he had other than a private little party in his mind.

I was glad to be using these products again.  I’ve used the sesame oil since I first discovered it in the early 1980’s, but love has a way of pinning itself to little things in a romance.

The place you first made-love or food that you enjoyed together remind you of what is gone when the romance is over.  The bottle of sesame oil had worked its way into my memories and this is something I love about writing.  Just now as I type, I realize that the narcissist never knew how to make use of his gift.  He knew how to give gifts but he did not know about sweet romance.  If he had known, the body of sesame oil would have been empty a long time ago.

Maybe the most difficult part of letting go and moving on after ending a romantic relationship are the reminders that come when you attempt to be sexual with a new partner, even something as slight as flirting can cause you to remember.  Plus, the aftermath of a relationship with a narcissist carries unique problems.  Many people are severely mentally and emotionally traumatized by the experience.  I was.

I mentioned to a couple I know that I was ready to date evoking instant match-making ideas in the woman.

I liked their friend the first time I met him and we later had an evening alone together, the time of which was fun and easy.  He was confident but didn’t seem arrogant.  When he said he could give me a better kiss I thought well, he sounds like a man who knows what he has to offer and it sounded alright with me.

Do I trust my radar?  No.  Not now.  I don’t yet trust any feelings of attraction .  A relationship with a severe narcissist left me with a large dose of cautiousness about people’s intentions or sincerity that I’ve never known before.

I refuse to stop living though.  I’m too young to give up on love or romance.  I think anyone living is too young.  Plus, its Spring and what a wonderful time to be like the French and take a new lover.   I either read that in a book once or saw it in a movie where a French woman said, “I’ll think I’ll take a lover for the Spring.”

This is what I was thinking about as I poured oil on my legs and then used a nice lotion afterward.

I did contemplate my actions.  At least the man is honest about his wish to, “give me a better kiss,” I thought, but there are conflicting feelings.  We don’t seem to have that much in common.   He doesn’t have a dog.  I must admit I wonder about people who don’t have dogs.  As I rubbed the lotion on my legs I thought hey, I’m not trying to mate for life here.  I’m not a bird.  I’m only human.

I thought about being in my forties.  I remembered a wonderful psychiatric nurse I once met.  She was an intelligent woman who had traveled the world in her forties.  I was struggling with the aftermath of an unhealthy relationship then too.  I’ve met two severe narcissists in my life.  I loved both of them and I ended both relationships.  They were about 13 years apart.  I never thought after the first one I’d ever go through anything like that again but all narcissists are not created equally.  The two I have known both did have charming ways, passion and intelligence but they were very different types of people.

The subject of sex came up.  That’s another part of a relationship with a narcissist.  There are usually problems around this.

“If you think you enjoy sex now,” she told me, “just wait ’til your in your forties.  You have a lot to look forward to in life,” and she went on to tell me how she had divorced a man, very much like the one I had known, when she was in her forties.  I was in my early thirties then.  She told me about her leaving and going off to Europe for two years where she, “enjoyed several lovers,” while she was there.  It sounded dreamy but hopeful. 

“I had an absolutely wonderful time,” she went on, “and then I met the man I would marry.  He moved here and we have a wonderful marriage.  You can have this too,” she told me, “but you must leave this place to have it.”

I was in a hospital for depression.  I’d only been there one night and it was clear to me and this head nurse that I was in the wrong place.  The psychiatrist disliked me so much after meeting me only once, he said he was glad to see me go, which was early the next morning.   That nurse had prepared my discharge papers after our conversation the night before.

The woman planted a seed in my brain.  I may not get to go to Europe for two years, but I swear I don’t want to make it to 50 and say dang, I forgot to enjoy those 40’s.

What if he surprises me I wondered?  Honestly, I wondered if the man could not only give me a kiss but if he could rock my world.  Shake me into a new reality.  Give me new thoughts and memories of romance.

I have grieved.  I have hurt.  I have seen many days when I didn’t want it to get dark.  I just didn’t.  The nights of the past winter seemed each one to last forever.

I want to take a lover for the Spring.  I couldn’t get it out of my mind.

The kiss drew me in and I found myself swept away into romance.  I have a new memory now.  I have a new and sweet experience.  The soft kiss lasted as long as the winter nights had.

I’m not out of the woods.   I doubt I’ll be like the woman in the novel or the movie, or the nurse in Europe.  I have to learn my boundaries.  I have to learn again, to trust myself.

I remain human.  I remain a woman.  I remain imperfect.  I remain cautious.







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26 Mar

I’m talking about Pain.

Posted by DOGKISSES in health, invisible illnesses, Pain. Tagged: , , , , , , .

In the wee hours of the morning, around 3:30 am today, I woke up.

I was fatigued and had fallen asleep last night, forgetting to take my pain medication and my anxiety medication, both of which I need, the latter of which is for anxiety, but also manages a neurological disorder I have, an essential tremor.

I don’t remember the details of my waking in chronological order.  I remember having the thought that I should definitely update my will.  I remember being scared.  I was really scared.

The pain in my chest and lungs is what was the most scary I guess, but all of it was bad.  My entire body, once again, felt like it was on fire.  It’s more than fire though.  It’s more than a burning.  It’s so much more I don’t seem to have the words for it.

They call it fibromyalgia.  I wonder.  Sometimes I wonder what my doctor would do if I was his daughter.   He has three and often speaks of them.  He is a compassionate man and I like him.  So I’ve wondered this.

Would he take me to some fancy medical facility up north?  Could they help me?  I know he would pay for acupuncture treatments, which helps me tremendously, but I can’t afford them.  He once told me he would like to learn acupuncture himself.  I told him I needed him to keep on being my doctor instead of going off to acupuncture school.  He laughed.

But my good doctor was not here at 3:30 am when I woke up this morning nor was anyone else, except my dogs, my blessings from the universe.  They were here and their being here makes a big difference in my ability to remain sane in such a state as I found myself in this morning.

Not only was I in pain but the tremor was there.  My insides were shaking.  I was sweating a little.  The pain was so intense I had to lie there and get my breath enough to be able to get up and go take my medication.

I lied there for a few more minutes before getting up.  I guess I was in shock.  My lungs hurt when I breathed, which I could barely do.

I’ve been told that the pain I experience in my chest area and when I breathe is from fibromyalgia.  They tell me that the heart is a muscle, which I already know that, and talk about the connective tissue around the heart and lungs, but they have also told me it’s rare to have the kind of serious pain I have while breathing.

Without the medication I can’t breathe.  It hurts too bad.  This is scary and I don’t think the doctors are aware of how serious it is for me.  I guess I need to tell my doctor but what would I say?  He knows I live in pain.  He gives me medication.  Maybe I’m afraid he will say my pain is too much for him and would send me away.  Send me to some pain clinic where I’ll be a number and/or where they might not believe in fibromyalgia.

Yeah, I am scared.

The fibromyalgia doctor I saw twice said sometimes it does get into the lungs and that this is almost like a medical entity of it’s own.  Great I thought.

It’s scary because I think what if something happened?  I live alone and what if I forgot my medication and couldn’t get to it?  I have a phone and I would dial 911, but would they believe me if I told them I couldn’t breathe without my medication?

There is stigma around pain medication and medical professionals are not immune to it.

What would I say if I did dial 911?  I have fibromyalgia.  I can’t get to my medication.  I can’t breathe without it.

Would they think I’m a drug addict?  A hysterical woman?  A psychiatric case?  I wouldn’t be a “drug-seeker,” because I have the “drug.”

It took about thirty minutes for the medication to work.  I could breathe again.  I don’t remember now what all went through my mind during that time, other than thinking about updating my will, but I know a lot did.

It was a painful, scary and depressing experience, but it’s over…or is it?


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