I wasn't kidding when I said we enjoy the small things in life.

Fibrotics seriously enjoy things at a much slower pace than you do.  It all hurts, so we're pretty slow.  When life's this slow, you take in a lot more.  You enjoy the sun on your face, the grass under your feet, a good cup of hot chocolate, and most importantly, a good pair of pajamas.

Nature has always been a wonder to me.  It's absolutely breathtaking, such a marvel. It always has me in awe, but today totally floored me.  I hate the snow for obvious reasons.  It's wet, it's cold, that means extra pain.  Today, I totally loved it, though.  It wasn't even that cold.  It was soft, powdery, and it totally looked fake.  It looked like the fake snow you buy at the craft store.  It was glittery, super sparkly, and looked like pixie dust as it floated down.  It still looked like pixie dust on the ground.  So beautiful, and I was so grateful I was able to witness this natural wonder.  I wish you could have seen it in person.

Can you believe these?  Every single one of them looked like this, the cut out snowflakes.

Breath taking.  I could have spent hours watching them fall.  We took these pictures just an hour ago, they're still falling.

Look at all the stars!  We took these pictures at the Wal-Mart parking lot, hooray for good lighting.  :)

Magical snow, it was so glittery!

What is it like when Fibromyalgia's in the house?

What is it like having Fibromyalgia?
Written by the Fibrotic in the house, Moi.

It sucks, it hurts, it's pure evil.  I am constantly tired.  When I say tired, I don't mean I'm yawning, I could take a nap.  I mean it's hard to move.  Exhaustion equivalent to the flu.  When buttoning a shirt wears you out, you're exhausted.  I am constantly hurting.  When I say hurting, I don't mean I have a little tenderness.  I mean I have the flu in my muscles, but worse.  My joints are aching so badly, there are times I can't even walk.  When I gave birth, all four times, they thought I wasn't really in labor because I was smiling, I was talking, I wasn't screaming or crying.  Good thing you can prove you're in labor... If childbirth couldn't move me, believe me when I say I can be in tears from the pain Fibromyalgia causes me.  Your joints, and as gross as this sounds, forgive me, I couldn't think of a better comparison, feel like they're on their period.  That extremely (only if you have bad periods, like most people with Fibro do, mind you.) painful, dull, achy feel.  It's in your fingers and hands, too.  Your low back, hips, and for me, always, always, the knees.  That's the joint pain.  Muscle pain?  That one really does feel like the flu, but that one's worse, too.  Ya know with the flu how it feels like it's just so dang deep?  That's Fibromyalgia.  The only other time (pre Fibromyalgia) that I felt Fibro like symptoms without having the flu was when I went on a ten mile hike.  I had about fifty pounds of crap in a backpack, it was on a huge, uphill mountain, and I was out of shape.  That would be easy for someone in shape.  When you take someone who doesn't work out and have 'em do that, it hurts!  That was the only other time I felt that it was about the same.  It feels like you've been working out for days, minus the actual working out.  Imagine your muscles being THAT tired.  All.  The.  Time.  Plus the joint pain and utter exhaustion on top of it all.  Migraines (or Cluster Headaches in my case, which are ten times worse than Migraines.) are a constant companion.  Dizziness, being lightheaded, and nauseated non-stop are your constant companions.  There is a term referred to as "Fibro fog."  This makes you a total and complete retard.  You will be mid-sentence and you will forget what in the world you were talking about.  You will head to the kitchen for something you know was very important, get there and completely forget what you're doing there.  You will try to do basic math and find your six year old knows more than you.  You will put your keys in a very, very special, safe place, that way you'll never lose them.  You will spend the next hour looking for them.  You will forget simple appointments, you'll forget the things you really can't miss.  You'll take all your energy (try doing any of these things with the flu and see how successful you are.) just to take a shower.  You'll most likely need a nap from that.  It'll hurt to stand too long, it'll hurt to sit too long. Everything causes pain.  Sit too long, your bum goes numb, your joints and feet swell, it's hard.  Stand too long, your feet and joints swell.  We're high maintenance because it's hard to think, and it always hurts.  Ya know how you snap at those you love when you're giving birth or throwing up for the billionth time from the flu?  The pain gets old, huh?  And if your husband asks you one more time if you want a pillow for your back or ice chips, you'll kill him, won't you?  'Cause it hurts!  You've been in labor for twenty four hours straight!  Doesn't he get the hint?  This hurts, go away, leave me alone!  Fibromyalgia is exactly the same.  Forgive us for being snippish, we've only been "in labor" the last ten years!  No big deal!  We're tired of the pain.  We're tired of it hurting.  We're tired of having the flu for years on end with no relief.  My husband once asked me what it's like being pregnant and then becoming un-pregnant.  I told him it's a lot like having the flu.  When you have the flu, you realize how weak, sick and vulnerable your body is.  You totally took your health for granted.  When you get over the flu, you're feeling so much better, you're like, "yes!  I am going to go running six miles today, I'm gonna go out, have fun, I've been SO sick!"  When you've been sick for a while, you totally appreciate getting that health back.  It feels so good to be back to yourself.  I told him that's what pregnancy was like, only MUCH longer.  When that baby comes out, you can't wait to get your body back, start working out again, watching movies like you couldn't do before, because it was so uncomfortable, so painful, you're gonna do it all.  You're so glad to be back.  You never get that back with Fibromyalgia.  Imagine being pregnant or having the flu for the rest of your life.  I get how husband's can get annoyed with their wives.  Their wives are totally different, they're tired, they hurt, they're sick.  They know they'll get their wives back after that baby comes out, though.  Imagine the feeling of never getting your loved one back.  Imagine being the person who never gets their health back.  Yeah, it sucks.  I don't feel like me.  I feel like someone has completely taken over my body.  I don't feel like the happy, energetic, hard working person I was.  I feel sick.  I feel tired.  I hurt.  All the time, and I'll never get well again.  It's a bit of a downer.  Depression is a huge factor in Fibromyalgia.  Most everyone with it has it.  How can you not be let down when your type A personality (it's been proven most people who have Fibromyalgia are type A personalities, and perfectionists, which would be me.) keeps getting the shaft?  When you'd rather be out there conquering the world, and you're in bed, nursing your "flu."  It sucks arse, dude.  THAT is bound to cause some depression.  You're bound to have depression when you have kids that you can't take care of because you're sick in bed with the "flu."  When you'd love to go on a date with your husband, but the thought of spending the next hour and a half taking a shower, doing your hair, putting your makeup on would be the end of your night, you'd be too tired.  When you should be working, 'cause things are really tight financially, you WANT to work, and your body's like, "hey, lady!  Flu, remember?  Sick people don't go into work, remember?  They're too sick!"  The guilt is big, the depression, the heart palpitations, the swelling, the aching, the tingling, the numbness, the blurry vision, the chronic sore throats, the chronic dry eyes, the hair falling out in clumps, the skin rashes, the cold intolerance, the IBS, (Irritable Bowel Syndrome, a large part of Fibro.) the brittle, cracking, fragile nails, crooked spines, insomnia, hellish nightmares, night sweats, confusion, irritability, extremely painful PMS, periods from Satan, lack of sex drive, (for most Fibrotics, I got a little luckier there.) painful sex, (yay, Tramadol!) honey, it ALL hurts, chest pains, butt pains, tongue pains, eye-lash pain, hair pain, ok, maybe not those, but really, I don't exaggerate when I say it all hurts.  Sometimes the other symptoms are totally ok, because the pain just over powers them all.  It hurts to be hugged, it hurts to accidentally hit a wall, well no, it feels like you got stabbed.  It hurts to be touched.  My favorite thing to do.  It'll ache for a long time, too.  It's not like stubbing your toe.  When Fibrotics stub their toe, it's the end of the world.  Hurts more, lasts longer.  Oh yeah, we bruise super easily, too.  We can barely move, so how in the hello did I get a bruise the size of a fist on my arse?  Either it's the Fibro fog, and I was secretly James Bond last night, or I was in bed all day, Fibro just thought yellowish blue was a flattering hue for us.  Gosh, it hurts.  It hurts to try and have a normal relationship.  I suck at being a mom and a wife.  I can't do it period.  It hurts too much.  Your house goes to crap when you have the flu, you can't play with your kids as much, they're eating nothing but cereal, that's to be expected when you're sick.  When you have a sickness that never ends, your house is always messy, you can't play with the kids as much, and the hubby takes on more than he can.  HOW CAN YOU GIVE WHAT YOU DON'T HAVE?  People with Fibromyalgia try.  They try, and they try, and they try.  It doesn't help or work, it only makes the pain worse, making the help needed worse.  I wish my husband had a healthy wife.  I wish my kids had a healthy mom.  I am always asking my husband to leave me.  I can't leave him, I need him, and that would hurt too much to try for his sake anyways.  This brings on so much guilt.  So much guilt, pain and sadness.  If I weren't such a wuss, I totally wouldn't even exist anymore.  I can't tell you how much pain it causes watching your family suffer because of you.  Watching people be miserable because of you.  People you're supposed to love, supposed to take care of.  You can't, 'cause you can't even move.  It's not that you don't care, or that you don't want you.  You can't do it.  And this is Fibromyalgia.

If this doesn't kill me physically, it will kill me emotionally.

What is it like taking care of someone with Fibromyalgia?
Written by my husband, Adam.  

It is hard to take care of someone who has Fibro, especially when there is four kids, three cats and a dog that need to be taken care of, too.  Being the care taker of someone with Fibromyalgia means being on call 24/7.  You typically have to take on multiple roles, and the day is not done until everyone is in bed.  You become the diaper changer, chef, house maid, butler, bread winner and chauffeur.  It becomes very demanding, and draining.  My average day is up at 7:00, and go, go, go all day.  Then to bed at 3 in the morning, just to do it all over again the next day.  It gets hard to function sometimes.  Rachelle always jokes about how forgetful I can be.  She says that I am worse than she is with the Fibro fog.  I think that it all comes down to being spread so thin.  I work from 7:30 in the morning to 6:30 in the evening.  Many times I have to leave work early because the day has become too much for Rachelle to handle and her "spoons" have been all used up.  I have a two hour lunch break in the middle, which is spent cooking lunch for the family and cleaning up after kids.  When I get home from work at around 7:00 at night, I immediately start dinner and the house is a wreck, again.  By the time dinner is done, it is time to put the kids to bed, and try to clean up a little (which usually doesn't happen).  Rachelle is usually stressed to the max from spending the day with the kids, and so we stay up until about 3 a.m. to unwind.  I am then up at 7 for the next round.  Even on weekends, I am usually up earlier than I would like because I try to let Rachelle sleep as late as possible.  I do try to get in a nap if I can time it right with the baby’s nap. By the end of my day, I am exhausted and brain dead.

Along with the physical strain of taking care of someone with Fibro, there are many emotional stresses as well.  Being the sole provider, I really stress about finances.  Being a poor college student and having 6 mouths to feed, I know how important it is to get as many hours in at work as I possibly can.  This, however, can be hard to do when Rachelle is having a bad Fibro week.  Fewer hours means a smaller paycheck.  This means we have to do without quite often.  This makes it real hard when the baby needs wipes, and the car needs gas.  It is difficult to not be able to provide for the needs and wants of your family.

There is also the stress that comes from your Fibrotic loved one.  With Rachelle being in so much pain and having to deal with the kids while I am at work, she is stressed to the max.  When I come home, or on the phone throughout the day, that stress is passed on to me.

Probably one of the most stressful things about the Fibro, is the guilt.  When Rachelle ends up doing something and paying for it later, I feel really guilty that she did it in the first place.  This can be applied to the simplest of tasks.  For example, if Rachelle has to get out of bed to get a drink for one of the kids, I immediately feel guilty that I didn't get the drink instead of her.  I understand that she is in pain, and I want to take care of her, so I feel guilty when she has to do a task that I could have done for her.  I also really feel guilty that I am at work while she is suffering at home while dealing with the kids.  I know that I don’t have much choice in this matter, but I do wish that there was something that I could do to make it easier on Rachelle while I am at work.

Living with someone who suffers from Fibromyalgia is very challenging.  It is hard to plan activities, or go on outings.  If you do get out and do something, then you need to plan for recovery time afterwards.  There is so much more responsibility that you must take on.  There are also so many more stresses that you must take on.  Taking care of someone with Fibro requires so much patience and understanding.

It also requires so much love. I love my wife more than anything, and though it can be hard at times and is physically and emotionally demanding, I love being able to take care of her. I am thankful that I have the means necessary to take care of her, and I know that if the roles were reversed, she would do the

same for me.

What is it like having a mother with Fibromyalgia when you're six years old? 

Written word for word by my six year old, Alee.  

Well, sometimes it's good to have a mom, but sometimes it's sorta boring to have Fibro.  I was wondering probably about Fibro, they probably have to rest to get good the next day.  Being Fibro, you be so tired, so you try to go to sleep.  If you can't, you just have to take some medicine pills, but sometimes you have a hard time with the pills.  So, probably, I've been thinking that Fibro people have a lot of problems.  If you can probably try to get as much rest as you can, you'll feel better.  You don't get to play with a mamma that has Fibro, so you should just leave her alone until she feels good.  It makes me feel bad to have a mamma that has Fibro because she has to sit all day.  She used to be real fun, though.  One time, I saw her playing with us in the house we lived in before she had Fibro.  Every day, she gets rice packs so she can feel good, sometimes she needs lots of love.  She might have a hard time playing and watching little kids.  I was wondering if Fibro people should get lots of money.  If you don't have lots of money for a doctor who can get rid of Fibro, you have to learn how to live with it.  You should know that Fibro people need a lot of help if they have little children.  They also really need lots of sleep if they have Fibro.  So, if they have children, they need lots of caring and they need lots of helping.  If you really need help, just call the police if you don't know what you need to do.  Call the ambulance if you need to go to the hospital.

To have Fibromyaglia is to be lonely, to suffer, and to deal with more guilt than is bearable.
It takes twice the effort when there is Fibromyalgia in the home.

Little does Tom F. know...

Little does Tom F. know that I have Fibromyalgia.  Little does Tom F. know that he literally saved my life today.

Looks are deceiving.  Everyone hurts, everyone is dealing with their own demons.  Be kind, you never know how it will change the world.

Although it was fun for some, it meant a whole lot of extra pain for me; we had a very, very white Christmas.  We got a lot of snow this last week.  It dumped for days.  I have been doing very well at keeping the driveway clear, too.  Let me say this again, when I "shovel" the driveway, I have to use a broom.  We're college kids with four small kids, a snow shovel is kind of a luxury when you're this poor.  My husband works from 7:30 a.m. to 6:30 p.m.  I am the obvious choice as the snow shovel-er.  Why shovel at all when you have a debilitating, painful disease?  It's in our contract with our landlord that if we don't keep the driveway free of snow, they'll pay someone else to do it, and charge us for it.  Did I mention we're too poor for a snow shovel?  Accruing extra charges is out of the question, I HAVE to sweep the driveway.

Hubby lets me sleep in on Saturday's, and I let him take an afternoon nap.  I went to the kitchen, opened my curtains to see the sun shinning.  Thought number one: "The sun is shinning!!!!  Glorious, sun, oh how I've missed you!"  Second thought: "Curse you sunshine!  The snow's melting, that means I have to take advantage of the sunshine and go shovel the snow now."  The kids were entertained with the tv while hubby was sleeping, so I went out to start my "sweeping."  This is excruciatingly painful.  Shoveling snow hurts the best of us.  Shoveling snow will especially hurt the worst of us.  I saw the guy across the street shoveling snow off a driveway and thought, "it must be so nice to have a snow shovel right about now."  I kept peeking up at him to see how he was coming along with his driveway.  Almost done, and his driveway was looking pretty clean.  When snow is packed, you're not gonna get far with a broom.  I was using the tip of my boot to break the packed snow, then swept it off.  Excruciatingly painful, physically, and as far as time was concerned.  He finished his driveway, and again I thought, "you're so lucky, I still have at least two hours left of this."  I had been at it for about an hour already when he came over and was putting his shovel into the back of his car across the street, right by my house.  "Have you been using a broom to shovel your snow?"  "Yeah, that's what I've been using all winter.  My husband just graduated from school, we have four small kids, so a snow shovel is kind of a luxury."  "I so get that.  My wife and I have six kids, we struggled in school, too."  He immediately pulled his shovel back out of his car, and began to shovel my driveway.  "You don't have to do that" I tried to tell him, "your back must be killing you from doing that one."  "It's ok."  I knew he didn't live at the house across the street, we see so many different people coming and going from that house.  "Are you related to these people?"  I asked, pointing at the house.  "No, she's a single lady, we all (meaning the neighborhood) chip in to help her out."  He went over to her house to shovel her snow, now he's over here doing mine.  I thought he would stay just for a little while to help me get the hard-packed snow off, then leave the rest for me.  He just came from doing the other house, I wasn't expecting anything, let alone a lot.  No, he stayed and helped me finish the rest of it.  He asked me about my kids, I told him I have two of each, he has three of each.  He told me it's hard having young kids, but it does get better when they leave the house.  :)  His wife called, wanted to know where the groceries were.  He told her, then went right back to shoveling my driveway.  Once he finished, he apologized he couldn't do more, asked me my name, told me his, then he told me if there was ever anything I needed, I could call him.  I'm young, I'm very young.  I'm skinny, I look healthy.  To any beholder, I am a fit, young, healthy, energetic person.  Little do they know my body is secretly eighty years old.  Little do they know my body is plagued with disease, and wracked with pain.  Little did Tom F. know he saved my life today.  Little does Tom F. know that my husband and I have been working the last few years running a chiropractors office.  Little does Tom F. know he's going to get $350 dollars worth of chiropractic work for free.  Little does Tom F. know that he'll also get a plate of cookies and a thank you note.

Tom F. is about to know that he saved my life today.  That I have a disease that causes me extreme pain.  I sit here, drugged out, icing my back, heating my knees, grateful, so very grateful, that Tom F. saved me hours out in the cold, hours that would have made this disease hurt even more.

               

Well, Fibro's gotta be good for something...

So proud of my baby!  I've only had this Fibro blog for a very short amount of time, and it's already had 1200 views, and has been viewed in over fifteen countries.  My writings are silly nonsense, but I love how something as stupid as Fibromyalgia can bring us together.  It's gotta be the only good thing about the dang disease, the ability to bring total and complete strangers together.  I've made wonderful friends through Fibromyalgia.  I have Fibro, I can't change that, so I'm grateful it at least has the power to heal in some ways.  I'm grateful it's been able to teach others patience.  I'm grateful this disease has helped me sift through the crud in people, it's helped me realize those who love me and want to help me, and those who decided my disease is bigger than I am.  It's made me strong, it's made me proud, it's made me sympathetic and understanding.  Most importantly, it's brought me you.  I guess Fibromyalgia's good for something.

 

The thing that hurts most about Fibromyalgia.

The thing that hurts most about Fibromyalgia, is being judged.  Being labeled, and being misunderstood.  Being treated differently.  Being treated like you're lying, faking it, seeking attention.  It hurts, it hurts so deep.  Being treated like you take advantage of your husband.  I've told my husband so many times I am jealous of his disease.  It's easy to prove you have Diabetes, and it's not like Fibromyalgia.  It doesn't control your life, it lets you do far more than dealing with constant pain.  You can actually have a normal life if you keep your sugars under control.  There is no amount of controlling with Fibromyalgia, there are no preventative measures.  IT will decide what you do, and what you will not do.  The lack of control is very frightening, and upsetting when you live for control with your type A personality.  I would switch diseases with my husband in a heart beat.  I would love to be the one taking care of him, instead of it being the other way around.  He takes care of me because he knows it's real.  He takes care of me because he knows I can't take care of myself.  Most importantly, he takes care of me because he loves me.  I would do nothing differently should the roles be reversed.  You take care of someone you love.  You believe and trust someone you love.  He does this because he knows it's right.  I so wish the roles were reversed.  I so wished the people that "loved me" wouldn't give me "the look."  The look everyone with Fibromyalgia knows all too well.  The "you're lazy" look, the "only if you tried harder" look, the "why would you behave this way just to get attention?" look.  I tell you what, it hurts.  It cuts us real deep.  I cannot believe someone would let their pride and ignorance treat someone they love in such a way.  I cannot believe we have to act like everything's alright, lest we be mistreated.  I know for a fact that people who want to treat someone this way have issues far more serious than believing Fibromyalgia isn't real.  The people who treat me this way have shi*ty marriages, they lack spirituality, they're prideful, they're angry, and judgmental of everything, and everyone.  EVERY single person who could cast their character this low, has many, many issues.  Every single person who treats me this way, has MAJOR issues.  Although I know it isn't personal and has nothing to do with me, it still hurts.  It takes a lot to hurt me.  I am very blunt, in your face, and I could seriously care less about what you think or say.  If I love you, that's another matter.  If you're a jerk, I could care less.  When someone who's supposed to love me treats me this way, I cannot help but feel it deep.  Do you honestly believe I have my husband wash my hair because it's fun?  I make up the pain so he can wash my hair?  Really?  I have far too much pride.  The thought of anyone helping me wounds my pride.  I love to be self sufficient, and it irritates me to no end having to ask for help.  Anyone who knows me or loves me enough would know this, though.  Those who judge me do not know me, and don't want to.  Their problems are so up in their faces, they can't lower them for one second to see others are suffering.  If they acknowledged I had problems, it would take the lime light away from theirs.  I don't want the attention, or the lime light.  I just want to be believed.  I want you to respect me.  I want you to stop treating me like I'm lying, like I'm exaggerating, like I've made this up for the attention.  I want you to stop it, and I demand it, now!  My husband and I have made a decision, a decision that is already being put into play.  We will be courteous and civil, but we will no longer stand for the abuse that's been thrown at me.  It is abuse, and I will not use any other word to describe it.  It goes far beyond abuse when you want to thrust your problems and issues into the face of a crippled, disabled person.  You are one sick puppy when you have to degrade yourself that low, and I will not be subjected to your abuse any longer.  We will not live by family or friends who refuse to treat me with the respect and understanding I deserve.  I was abused severely as a child, it was not my fault, and I had no say in the matter.  I am an adult, I do have a say now.  I have put up with sh*t for far too long to appease people.  I have bit my tongue, tried to plea my case, tried to receive a little understanding.  I never got it.  I've been trying for as long as I've had this disease.  I never got the respect or understanding, and I understand now that I never will.  I won't hold my breath.  People don't change.  If that's the case, I still love you, I will still talk to you.  You will not be invited into my home to insult me, though.  You will be excluded from important events in my family's lives.  We will not go out of our way to see you.  We will not stand for the manipulation, rude comments, and hurtful glances you have been giving me for years.  I put up with it so you could be a part of our lives, a part of my children's lives.  Well guess what?  I'm tired of it, my husband's tired of it, and we won't stand for it any longer.  We gave you many years to prove yourself, you chose your pride over your family.  This is your fault, you have many issues, don't you dare try to blame it on me, or my disease.  You know the fault lies with you.  I cannot believe you are embarrassed of me and my disease.  Why do you think my disease would bring you shame?  Like talking about this or embracing this, or wearing my disease proudly on a bracelet is embarrassing.  Do you know how sick that makes you sound?

Don't you dare ever find yourself treating someone with a disease like they're crazy.  If you love them, you will respect them, believe them, try to help and understand them.  You do not abuse or disrespect someone you love.  Period.  I know by your actions how you feel about me.  Don't worry, the feeling is mutual.

Do you love me?  Prove it.  Do you hate me?  Prove it.  How do you show someone you love them?  By your actions.  Can you ever prove you love someone?  Never.  How then can I prove my disease to you?  By my actions?  Yes, that's all I have.  I could never in a million years play this fartsy, play up this much pain.  I am too fartsy to pretend pain for that long.  I'd forget too fast.  If I shot you in the face with a shotgun, could you prove you were in pain to me?  No, there's no way you could ever prove your pain.  Why do you ask me to?  Why on earth would you ever doubt me?  Why would you ever be low enough to try to prove me otherwise?  I am so sorry you deal with trials, I really am, trials are hard and they suck, believe me, I know!  I could write the book on it.  I do not understand your need to project it on me, though.  I never will.  Things do have to come down to this.  I will not deal with the abuse any longer, and frankly, believe it or not, my disease won't let me either.  Emotional pain makes the physical pain ten times worse for Fibromyalgia.  I not only do this for my self respect, I do it for my health.

A rose by any other name would still be a rose.  You could call my Fibromyalgia whatever you wanted to.  It would never change my symptoms.    

I AM young, don't let that fool you into thinking that makes me healthy.  I will not try to prove myself to you anymore, you refuse to listen.

Les Miserables sucked. The end.

Go ahead, say what ya want.  I wanted to rupture my ear drums.  Not a single word was said, it was all singing.  The music sucked, the notes seemed like they were all over the place, just to make it a song!  Of course the classic songs were, well, classic, but the "talking" singing, ach!  Awful.  Prostitutes, gettin' laid fer money, Santa havin' sex, lady dyin', never gettin' the kid, Anne Hathaway gets uglier, (if that's even possible!)  Russell Crowe can't sing worth beans, he commits suicide, you see his body smash in half, hear it, too, people starving, children getting shot in the chest, girl dies, guys dies at the end, always running, GAH!  I hated it!  I don't care if it's pop culture, and it's something you're supposed to like, even if you don't like it.  Rubbish, it sucked!  Culture my arse.  I wasn't crying, (I guess that's something you were supposed to do when ya watched it, too.) I was relieved to see these obnoxious characters dying.  The cinematography was all over the place.  It looked like it was shot with a hand held camera.  It swirls, it twirls, it shakes, and makes ya wanna hurl.  Cynical?  Sure, whatever you say.  Just 'cause you liked it, does NOT mean I have to.  So we have different tastes, ok!  I didn't want to see it.  I went for my mamma, she really wanted to see it, and didn't wanna go alone.  It sucked.  I have Fibromyalgia, remember?  :)  I don't do things that are painful.  Man, I wish I could wash my brain clean and get those two hours back.

On a happier note, my Christmas was actually fantastic!  My parents and sister came up for Christmas.  It turned out to be an ok holiday, not as painful as I thought it would be.  We have amazing parents who make fantastic grand-parents, my kids received amazing gifts, and I was so grateful.  It was relaxing, I was able to take a nap, (Fibro's saving grace) eat fantastic food, and I didn't have to cook or clean a thing.  Amazing family, and a super Fibro friendly Christmas.  I hope yours was incredible, and as pain free as possible.

There had better be a dam cure under that tree.

There's been so many changes since Fibro.  I never used to curse, a symptom AND side effect of Fibro, I used to be a different person, I used to work out, and guess what?  I used to enjoy Christmas, too!  Isn't that amazing?  No, I really did.  Ya know, back when it didn't hurt?  Lack of sleep is working its fun little magic on me.  Stayed up until three cleaning the dang, freaking house.  Family's coming over today, and yesterday really was the first chance we had to clean it.  It's still not even close!  This is what happens when you have four small kids and a freaking, stupid disease.  I wish we got tornadoes in Idaho, at least I could explain my house!  Cleaning hurts.  Lack of sleep hurts.  The shopping I still have to do hurts.  The wrapping will hurt.  Taking a shower will hurt.  Pretending I'm fine, happy and having a good time will hurt.  It all frickin' hurts, m'kay?  It's REALLY, REALLY hard to feel the Christmas spirit when you wanna punch someone in the face.  Really hard.  I want to sleep, that's all.  I don't wanna do any of it, do I have to?  Please don't make me.  :(  It hurts.

I really don't wanna hear, "but it's Christmas!  Ya can't be in a bad mood!"  It has nothing to do with being in a bad mood!  It has to do with the fact that I have a migraine, that my muscles, every single one of them, are on fire!  Sharp, stabbing, pain.  In every single part of my body, do ya understand that?  Not a bad mood, I am sick.  There is a difference.  Let me run you over with a bus, and ask you to be in a good mood.  Don't ya dare tell me to change my attitude.  It's a disease, not a state of mind.  I don't feel well, ever, but today, with the extra stress, you can kiss my painful arse, got it?  Good.  Merry Christmas.

I do, I really do, got it?

  

Sleep, or the lack of...

He he he.

People used to say to me all the time, "but ya had eight hours of sleep!"  "Bi*ch, come say that to muh face!"  Eight hours is all fine and dandy, ya know, if you don't have Fibromyalgia.  I always KNEW I needed more! Even before I was diagnosed, eight hours didn't do crap for me.  Never did.  Oooh, ooooh, lemme tell you why!  People with Fibromyalgia don't go into REM!  Can you believe that?  I was shocked, too, but TOTALLY makes sense.  What's REM?  Rapid eye movement.  It's the sleep cycle you go into every 90 minutes.  It's called rapid eye movement, because yo eyes go all rapid and what not.  Watch a person when they're sleeping, or just Youtube REM.  Not the band, the actual sleep thingy.  Our eyes freak out when we're in this cycle, freaky, huh?  This REM cycle is incredibly important to your health.  It's our restorative sleep.  If the body can't wipe the slate clean every night, and let it do the restoring thing, guess what?  You're gonna be in a lot of pain.  Ooooh, kind of like Fibromyalgia!  Yeah, kind of like that.  Us Fibrotics don't go into REM.  It hasn't exactly been proven why, but it has been proved this is the case.  Doctors, lawd, I swear!  Maybe we don't go into REM 'cause it already hurts so freaking bad?  Eh, perhaps.  That's my theory, and I'm stickin' to it.

So, while everyone tells you that you need 8 hours of sleep, they're dead wrong.  Turns out, people with Fibromyalgia need 10-12 hours of sleep every night.  Crazy, I know.  Before I knew about this, I always felt my best when I got ten hours.  I found that to be my magical number.  "You're depressed.  People who sleep ten hours are depressed."  "Fine, I'm depressed, doesn't change the fact that I still need ten frickin' hours of sleep!"  Ha, "it's part of my treatment plan, biotch!"  Take that.  So why do we need 10-12 hours of sleep?  While we're not getting REM, we're still resting.   I dunno, its been tested and proven.  Its been proven to be true for me.  When I went to the doctor yesterday, the hubby asked my doctor, "how much sleep do people with Fibromyalgia need?"  "Up to twelve hours."  "Yeah, we read that somewhere..."  Twelve hours sounds totally unrealistic, especially since Fibrotics already deal with insomnia as it is.  You, my friend, need to be talking to your doctor.  I've tried all sorts of sleeping pills, and nothing worked.  Tramadol's what did it for me.  It kills my Restless Leg Syndrome, helps take the edge off the pain, and works as my sleeping pill, too.  Talk to your doctor about what you can do, sleep is vital to your health, and yeah, it's vital to your family's health, too.  :)

Now, someone PLEASE come tell that to my kids, 'cause this mamma is a psycho biotch right now.

I'm not kidding when I say good sleep is imperative to your health.  (Click on me to see me larger.)  

  

I'm not here for the heavy stuff, promise!

Gettin' ready for a doctors appointment right now.  Almost everyone hates going to the the doctor, but people with Fibro REALLY hate it.  We see our doctors more than we see our families, we're always there for some sort of testing.  We also don't care so much for doctors, because if we don't word ourselves correctly, they'll think we're there to get high.  We are there to get high, but it's not for the same reasons someone else would be getting high.  We're always in pain.  Pain-killers are about the only thing we can take for this thing.  There is no drug out there that helps Fibro, like insulin helps a diabetic.  There aren't any drugs to correct the problem, pain-killers only cover them.  So, when you hurt like you've just been ran over by a bus, all they can do for you is pain-killers.  My doctor's already droppin' hints that he doesn't want me getting addicted to pain-killers.  Um.... what would you suggest?  This is kind of for life.  I'd rather die fifteen years early from liver damage, than live to be one hundred and ten, and not enjoy a thing.  I AM going to ask for something stronger, and to re-fill the current one.  Let's dress super cute, as to avoid the druggy questions!

It ain't rocket science, I need horse tranquilizers.   

"Maybe you shouldn't have had kids then."

This was said to me when I mentioned I don't like being a stay at home mom.  Do I enjoy cleaning up the same mess thirty times a day?  Do I love being back-talked to, never thanked, never appreciated?  No.  I'm pretty sure if you ever put an ad out for a job that said, "looking for someone who doesn't mind cleaning toys up in fifty rooms over and over to the point of being a zombie, someone who can cook four different things for four different tastes, doing the dishes from feeding these needy people up to eight times a day, cleaning those toys up in that room again, scrubbing pee all over the toilet, teaching someone how to pee, cleaning up their pee and poo, 'cause they have accidents all the time.  Change a baby's diaper often, take the toddler back to the bathroom, pick up those toys once again, feed these people again, fill up their sippy's for the billionth time for the day, be to work very early, go to bed very late, be available all throughout the night for the baby's feeding and for nightmare attacks, keep the kids out of stuff they shouldn't touch, keep them from killing each other ALL day, keep them from yelling and fighting.  Do it without ever being thanked, appreciated, and best of all, do it without being paid!"  Mmmm, watch the applicants fly in!  This ain't no Mary Poppins.  This is the life of a mother.

Until you start ANY job, you're not quite sure what it's going to entail.  Like anything in life, it may not be what you thought it was when you got into it.  How many people go to school for five years, start their career, and then realize they hate it?  The lawyer that spent seven years going to school?  Didn't he know that he was going to hate being a lawyer?  No, we don't know anything until we try it.  Don't over analyze this or read into it; I love my kids and I love being a mom.  I hate being a stay at home mom.  There, there it is.  When I tell people I hate being a stay at home mom, they're all like, "oh, bad mom!  Why don't you like your kids?  Why wouldn't you like it?  Why would you even have kids in the first place?  Maybe you shouldn't have had kids then."  What in the world?  I've never met a mom that's so full of shi*, she says, "yes, I never wear makeup anymore 'cause it's fun, I loved chopping my hair off, making me look like a frazzled man, I love never having me time, I love poop, too.  Isn't that your favorite?  Mmm, yeah, poop."  I have met the moms that are so full of it, they try to convince themselves it's worth it by saying, "oh, but it's so worth it."  Duh, ya dumb as*.  The world wouldn't have made it this far if it weren't worth it.  Why do moms feel like they have to add that clause in?  Hun, are you tying to convince me, or you?  I have more kids than you, so I obviously thought it was worth it, too.  Moron.  Don't give me that "it's so worth it in the end" crap.  I love my kids, love 'em to death.  It doesn't mean I have to love wiping their as*es all day.  I don't apologize for not liking this job.  You'll love and hate job's you have throughout your life.  There will be things you love AND hate about certain jobs.  Motherhood IS that job.  The only mom's I ever met that embraced this thing head on, were usually so obviously lying, or a little messed up in the head.  I won't pretend I don't miss working, earning a paycheck, dressing up cute all the time, being appreciated by people, being thanked, being rewarded, fulfilling goals, all the rewards of working.  What goals do I set now?  Lose some more weight?  Does it matter, my kids are the only ones who see me now anyways?  I'll still get the, "your butt sags" comments.  Nah, screw the last 20 lbs.  What do I work on?  What do I work towards?  Crafting?  Ha, heyell no!  I hate crafting!  It's tedious and I absolutely feel like it's a waste of time, not to mention I suck at all things crafty.  I feel that's how stay at home mom's slowly start going insane.  "GOTTA MAKE ONE MORE FREAKIN' SNOW GLOBE FOR MRS. JONES!!!!  HE HE HE, GONNA FILL THE HOUSE FULL OF MY NIFTY CRAFTS, HAHAHHA!!!"  Ya see?  Sounds like a mental person, right?  I don't do crafts.  I have a type A personality.  I love schedules, I live by them.  Well, I did.  Now it's like, um, "well, let's see when junior takes his afternoon crap and nap, then we'll plan around that."  Talking and getting together with friends is non-stop, "shush, I can't hear!  Stop, you'll break that!  Don't pinch their cat!"  What's the point?

Ever see Groundhog Day?

  That's what being a stay at home parent is.  You wake up and re-live the same day, over, and over, and over again.  You wake up frickin' early, make breakfast, clean up, or not, in my case, change diapers, put the kid on the toilet, give the dog and cats breakfast, take the dog out to pee, "attempt" to pick up a bit.  Put a movie on for the kids so you can try to lay down for ten minutes, which SO doesn't happen, get up, change diapers, put the kid on the toilet, clean up those toys, feed 'em again, put baby down for a nap, yell at the kids for two hours, "shut up!  Stop yelling, you're gonna wake the baby, and I don't wanna take care of a cranky baby!"  Get baby when he wakes up, change his diaper, put the kid back on the toilet, make food, change diaper, put them to bed, go to sleep, don't sleep enough, wake up in the middle of the night, give the baby a bottle, tell the sleepwalking kids to go back to bed, it was just a dream, wake up, do it ALL OVER AGAIN.  Repeat.  Repeat.  Repeat.  Repeat.  For the next thirty years.  Whew, yeah, see how being a stay at home parent could be a bit of a downer?  No one tells you what being a stay at home mom is like.  I never knew!  How would I know what the job entailed until I tried it myself?  I couldn't possible know.  I could never possibly know that I would get a debilitating disease, either.  A disease that would make being a stay at home mom impossible.  I've worked in many places, had many jobs.  You don't EVEN know how hard of a job it is to be a stay at home parent, unless you've done it.  By far the hardest job physically, mentally, and emotionally.  It's hard for most mom's.  Now add debilitating disease.  People say to me all the time, "I don't know how you do it."  I don't.  You can't do what you can't do.  I am no mom.  I'm here, but it's half as*ed.  If I had a boss, I would have been fired a looooong time ago.  My house, as much as my OCD butt tries, is always messy.  It takes a perfectly healthy person to keep a well kept home with four small children.  I am far from healthy.  So, more often than not, my dishes are pilled sky high, right now, there's an entire bag of cereal dumped smack dab in the middle of the living room, my kids are killing each other, and I'm blogging.  Hallelujah, blogging's about the only sanity I have right now.  Writing is so therapeutic.

So, to you people who are like, such perfect mom's 'n all, that you can point your snotty as* nose up at me and be all like, "well maybe you shouldn't have had kids then", I want you to have four kids six and under, deal with a disease that barely lets you move, and deal with so much pain, you'd rather be dead than deal with it.  THEN we should talk.  Don't compare your apples to my oranges.  Our situations are totally different, how dare you interpret my hatred for being a stay at home mom for me not loving my children.  Shame on you, pickin' on a disabled person.  Maybe you should work on the stank in your own yard before you start pointing out everyone else's.        

Oh, my aching back!

Am I too young to say that?  I totally feel like I'm too young to be saying that, but saying that I am.  I shoveled snow yesterday.  With a broom!  My driveway is huge, plus it's Idaho snow, it's a lot.  Yeah, it was a lot of ouch.  So, why not use something besides a broom?  We've been college kids for four and half years with four small kids.  Needless to say, yeah, we're always short on money.  When you're rummaging through the couch to find change for wipes, a snow shovel is quite the luxury.  It is better than what I was using before, the baby's high chair attachment?  The flat thing they eat on, the detachable part?  Yeah, I used that the first time.  So a broom was a MUCH better option!  Much better.  There were at least four inches of snow, so it created quite the resistance.  I can't even tell you how it affected me.  Yeah, my back hurts, but it's so much more.  I had Adam massage my back last night and I was totally surprised with what else was going on.  Did ya read my chiropractic entry?  The nerves are all attached to different points in your body.  When the muscles are so tightly clenched, it's going to cause other problems, too.

See the green muscle?  That's what I messed up, all down the right side.  It's the "snow shoveling" muscle.

All down the right side of my spine, my muscles are hard as a rock.  Adam pushed on a point in my upper back, and I almost puked.  It made a serious wave of nausea over take me.  Then he moved to the lower back and I immediately started having stomach cramps.  Bad, bad stomach cramps.  Once he stopped massaging, the cramps went away.  Today though, the cramps came back and I've been poopin' all day!  I KNOW you wanted to know that!  :)  Well, this is an informative blog, so inform you I shall.  It never ceases to amaze me how intertwined the body really is.  My back hurts, but it's bringing with it a whole lot of other problems.  This is crazy pain.  There's a reason why people with Fibromyalgia don't go out of their way to do ridiculously crazy things, (like, oh, I dunno, shoveling, or sweeping snow.) it takes us three times as long to recover from them.  We know our limitations, we know how many "spoons" we have.  So why shovel snow then?  It's in our rent contract.  Landlord says we have to, or he'll pay someone else to do it and charge us for it.  Hubby works from 7:30 a.m. to 6:30 p.m.  I was the obvious choice for the snow sweeping.

I get free professional massages from my friend who's a massage therapist, and I can't even think of doing that.  It hurts so bad, I don't want it to be touched.  It also takes us three days to recover from a massage, unlike you normal freaks that only take one day to recover.  The thought of more pain for three days sounds kind of painful, no?  I know it would help in the long run, but all I want right now are elephant tranquilizers and my rice packs.    

Snow shoveling injuries are quite common.  I worked as an office manager at a chiropractors office for three years.  The people we saw most during the winter were those who slipped on ice, and snow shoveling injuries.  Click on the picture to see it closer.    

"Devils come out!!!"

We have the sweetest family friend.  She's extremely thoughtful, one of the nicest people I've ever met, and wants to help everyone.  I've also never met someone so into natural and spiritual healing.  I got bit by a Brown Recluse spider back in the spring and she put a black salve on the spider bite.  It was totally and completely healed in a week.  My co-worker got bit by one, too.  (It was a joke in the office that the chiropractor was next.)  She almost lost her arm because of it.  She was in the hospital for a month, getting her arm drained daily.  I cannot tell you how lucky I was, how grateful I was we had this friend who had the black salve.  My scar from the bite is almost completely gone.  It's not the crater it should have been like all the Brown Recluse bites you see.  I owe her my life.  She also said a prayer for me that day, too.  My husband tried really hard not to giggle, it was a little out there.  I reprimanded him in the car, "why are you laughing at that?  That was really sweet!"  "It's not that!  It's was just really animated, something from a movie."  "Okay, so that's how she prays, hush."  She's prayed for me many times and every time I've been very grateful.  I don't think she belongs to a certain religion, she just prays what she feels, and when she prays, she REALLY prays!  She places her hands on me, raises her hands to the sky, spits, the whole nine yards.  Nothing I say here is meant to be disrespectful, it just had to do with Fibromyalgia, so I thought we'd talk about it, just as friends.

She stopped by the house today and said she wanted to pray for me.  Nothing new, she does this for me often.  Before she prays, she tells me she saw this tv program where a preacher prayed for people with Fibromyaglia and they were cured.  "She said it was only emotional."  "Okay...."  She places a hand on my shoulder, one hand on my head, "Jesus, cure this woman of Fibromyalgia.  Release the histories of trauma from her past.  Take the histories that have ravaged her body and take them to you, Lord.  Release them!  Heal her, make her whole!  Let her mind have peace."  At this point, I can hear my children screaming inside the house, "you stupid idiot, I hate you!"  Yes, grant me peace.  If anything, grant me peace.  "Let her release these things and make her whole, now!  Take these things and symptoms and ....stuff... from her.  Amen."  "What symptoms are you having?"  Fibromyalgia?  How can I explain to someone in the 3 seconds I have before my kids kill themselves?  "There's a lot, the kids are killing each other, maybe I can call you sometime?"  She gives me an awkward stare.  Sigh..... ok, "um, well, with Fibromyalgia, there's just a lot of muscle pain, sleeping problems, headaches, uh, that kind of stuff?"  "Oh, so it's a problem of the soul."  Well, I've never quite heard it phrased that way.  I totally get people who don't understand Fibromyalgia.  I SO get it!  Fibromyalgia is confusing to the people who have it, why wouldn't it be confusing for someone who didn't?  If it were any other person, I might be offended.  She doesn't have a mean bone in her body, though.  She really does love me and is concerned for me.  Ha, if only I could tell you though, the number of times people with Fibromyalgia have heard the spiritual spiel.  We've heard of all your "brilliant" ideas, we really have.  Maybe if you just lost some weight, maybe if you went to counselling for this, maybe if you worked out more, ate this, prayed more.  Ugh, tell me something I haven't heard.  I'm skinny, I've been in therapy since I was three, I try to work out every day, I eat better than most people, I go to church weekly and pray a lot.  Maybe if my husband had prayed more?  Would his Diabetes go away?  Maybe if he lost some weight?  Nah, his BMI is smack dab in the middle of healthy.  I don't think that man could lose or gain a pound if his life depended on it.  Maybe your neighbor wouldn't have died of cancer if she had prayed more?  Use your brain more than your mouth.  Think before you speak.  I know you think (geez, and to those of you deliberately trying to be a jerk.) you're really trying to be helpful when you say, "honey, we're all tired.  Work is just hard on you right now.  Maybe a shopping spree would help?"  Fibromyalgia.  REAL disease.  Not lack of sex, not too much fat, not this, not that.  Disease.  Recognizable disease.  I know you really may be thinking you're only trying to help.  Think of this though, we've had this disease for years now.  On average, it takes ten years to get the correct diagnosis of Fibromyalgia.  You don't think we didn't think of those things first?  "Hot dayum!  I LOVE being fat, miserable, in so much pain!  Do you think my doctor will say it's Fibromyalgia?  THAT would be loads of fun!"  C'mon, we've done it all.  WAY before you thought of it.  We lost the weight, we do exercise, we do try to eat right for our bodies.  Probably better than you do!  So when you think you're being helpful, by making the, "maybe if you tried (insert annoying idea here)" remark, to the woman who's had Fibromyalgia for 30 years, think first.  I promise you she's tried it.

"Devils come out!!!"  If God made it so, we'd be free of cancer, heart disease, war, child abuse, all sorts of pain and danger.  That is NOT how God works!  So yeah, Fibromyalgia may be around for a while longer. 

               

The Hobbit, brought to you by Fibromyalgia.

2 hours and 49 minutes.  The Hobbit is 2 hours and 49 minutes.  My father in law took me, the hubby, and my brother in law to see The Hobbit last night.  We spent all day cleaning, swimming, going out to dinner and then went to go see an 8:30 showing so the baby would be asleep for the baby sitter.  Exhausting day!  After everything thus far, I honestly didn't think I'd be able to make it to a late (when you have Fibro, you're old, THAT is late, m'kay?) showing for a three hour movie.  I took a shower from swimming, (had to wash my hair again, ouch!) put makeup on for a second time that day, and dressed for the second time that day.  Do you know how hard it is to look pretty when you're that tired, and in that much pain?  Once that was all done, Fibro was all like, "wouldn't it be fun to pick on her, just a little more?"  So pick on me it did.  Once I was sitting quietly in the car, the pain really decided to settle in.  The nausea decided it would be fun to see if I would hurl, or not.  My knees were like, "oh look, snow!  Let's hurt."  My head was thinking it would be a blast to get a migraine from going back and forth between the hot tub and the cold pool.  Fibro be pissed about that one!  My shoulders decided it would try to take on a little more pain for itself, selfish...  Needless to say, I was in extreme pain by the time the movie even started.  First thought?  "I don't think I can hold my pee for three hours..."  Second thought?  "These boots were made for pain."  My boots, as incredibly comfortable and sexy as they are, have a zipper on the side that wouldn't let me cross my legs, it hurt too much.  Dumb as I am, I did try to keep 'em crossed, at least until the lights went out.  Then I pulled my legs up into fetal position for the rest of the movie.  Much better.  I was prepared though, mind you!  Any person with Fibromyalgia, as fartsy as we may be, knows better than to forget their drugs.  Forget I did not.  My purse was a pharmacy.  I took my anti-nausea and my Tramadol.  I waited for them to kick in while I nursed my muscles.  Ahhh, there's my Lucy in the Sky.  Finally kicks in.  At this point, I am a little less nauseated.  Did I hurt less?  Nah, but at least I didn't wanna up chuck, right?  Eh.  It would have been nice.  Cue Fibro vision.  "Why is Bilbo making out with the dwarf king?"  "Adam, my gay ol' Fibro vision is kickin' in, it's so dang blurry, I can't see a thing!"  My vision is 20/13.  Yeah, my vision is better than the "perfect" 20/20 vision.  My vision be ridonkulous.  Another fun and extremely exiting symptom of Fibromyalgia is blurred vision.  Why?  I dunno, I think perhaps it's because Fibro pulls all muscles, why not eyes?  Maybe it's Glaucoma?  "Get this mamma some weed, stat!"  ;)  I dunno, all I know is that it sucks.  I could tell there was a giant eagle...?  It was all Elvish to me.  Sorry, had to.

The Hobbit was the shiot!

Aside from people making out, who most obviously weren't making out, the movie was fantastic!  If you haven't seen it yet, you have to!  I read the book as a child, watched that cartoon, (yeah, you KNOW the one I'm talking about.) and can honestly say it didn't disappoint.  Besides the obvious given, that The Hobbit was directed by Fibromyalgia and not Peter Jackson, I gave it two, throbbing, arthritic thumbs up!            

On a scale of 1-10? 1.7592 billion.

How proud am I my hubby graduated tonight?  10.  How bad did it hurt?  10!  Running around all day, girdle one size too small, (size DOES matter when ya chunky!) six inch heels, a dress that cut off circulation in my arms, (my arms are abnormally fat) and chasin' around four kids for a five hour graduation ceremony.  Ouch.  I took six Tramadol, nothing.  Didn't touch tonight's pain.  Took a ridiculously hot shower, nothing!  Didn't touch the pain.  I think the only thing that will fix tonight is a good night's rest.  Hopefully that goes well, Fibrotics don't sleep too well.  Eh, all in all, so incredibly proud of my baby.  He looked smokin' sexy, and smokin' smart.  :)  I cannot tell you how proud I am of this man.  How much I love him.  How much I'm gonna rip his clothes off tonight.  What, nothing sexier than an educated man, I tell ya what.

By the by, my lover graduated with a bachelor's degree in business management with an emphasis in supply chain.  So darn proud.

 

Did ya know there's a cure for Fibromyalgia? Well, for everything.

Perfect cells are ONLY found in the embryonic stage.  Even the cells taken from your baby's umbilical cord already have "fingerprints."  They are not perfect.  Click the picture to see it bigger. 

No, I know what you're thinking.  "There's this special diet..."  No.  Let me explain.  Ever heard of stem cell treatments?  I'm sure you've heard the controversy around it.  Here's what it is and how it works:  Stem cells come from the brain of human embryo's.  Embryo's (an unborn baby) contain perfect cells.  Completely perfect cells.  By taking these cells from embryo's, and implanting them into you, you can cure every single disease ever.  Paralysis even.  Everything.  How does it work?  These cells are so incredibly remarkable.  When implanted into your body, they will go and "fix" all the broken things in your body.  Is that nuts or what?  They'll also re-program the new cells being formed and teach them how to be perfect, like they are.  You will never have a "sick" cell again.  Ever.  You'll never get cancer,  or Fibromyalgia.  Your chances of catching the flu are 1 in 10 when compared to other people.  When and if you do catch the flu, you'll get over it very fast.  You'll have an immune system that's better than an 8 year old's, for the rest of your life.  What is the controversy around stem cell research and treatments?  These stem cells come from an embryo's brain.  Embryo's do not survive the process.  This is what the controversy is; do we kill babies in order to save those already living or let those already sick stay that way so the unborn can live?  What if there was a way to appease both sides?  What if we took the moral controversy out?  What if I told you there's a doctor who has done just that?  Who's cured just about every disease?  Let me tell you how this is possible.  Instead of aborting embryo's or growing test tube babies only to eliminate them, he uses "medical waste."  What is medical waste?  Medical waste is this term, is babies that have been miscarried.  Babies that have already died.  Through no fault of the mother, medical science, or any other contributor.  Miscarried babies that didn't survive before the age of viability.  So, moral dilemma eliminated.  This is no different than cadavers who gave their bodies over to science.  For all of us that are donors.  For those who have lost a child and donated their heart, so another sick child could live.  Yes, a cure, and one that isn't unethical in any shape, way, or form!  This doctor is an American specialist, and performs these procedures in Mexico.  I know, sounds shady, right?  Why would he be doing this in Mexico?  Conspiracies aside, the business of sick people is a billion dollar business.  It's bad business to be curing "incurable" diseases.  The practice of stem cell treatments (even though ethical for all sects of religion and politics) has been banned in the United States.  Let me say it again, drugs are good business.  Most politicians, those in power and those with money, have their feet dabbled in some sort of drug company.  Drugs are a band-aid.  They do not cure or heal.  They cover the symptoms, although most of the time, they create new ones, just as bad.  It's VERY good business to sell people things they will need for the rest of their lives.  Therefore, stem cell treatments have been banned.  This doctor's office is in California.  You fly into California, they take a bus, drive you over the border into Mexico,treat you in an hour, drive ya back.  Day trip.  Day trip to cure everything you have.  Day trip to cure everything you might get in the future.  Hawt dang!  Yes, I am saving for this.  The only downside?  It's $30,000.  Yeah, that can throw a wrench in the gears.  Not by much, though.  Turns out being Superman has its costs, too.  Is it worth it?  If you're asking this, you don't have Fibromyaglia, do ya?  If you do, love someone, take care of someone with Fibro, you're like, "ho freakin' yeah!  Hells yeah, this is worth it!"  If you do this for your kids, they'll never get the debilitating, hereditary disease you and your husband have, like, oh I dunno, Fibromyalgia, hypoglycemia and type one diabetes?  For our family of six, we're like, "yeah, $180,000 is TOTALLY do-able!"  When it comes to your health, your life, your everything, I just don't think you can put a price on it.  Especially when you put your kids into the picture as well.  There is NO price I wouldn't pay to rid me of this.  To rid my family of living with Fibromyalgia.  I'd give all I have.  One of these days, I will.  Hubby graduates in two days.  Once he gets a job that actually allows us to save, you know where my money will be going.

Wanna know more about it?  Here's information I was sent about Dr. Rader, the doctor who performs the stem cell treatment:   http://stemcellofamerica.com/documents/blocked-in-the-usa.pdf

Here's his book:
http://www.blockedintheusa.com/

Here's his biography:
 http://www.drwilliamrader.com/

No, I don't work for Dr. Rader.  I'm not trying to sell you on this, I'm not making money from talking about this.  I did NOT pay for these excerpts, they were sent FREE to me in an e-mail when I inquired about it.  I believe knowledge is power.  If I had the $30,000 to spend on this right now and if someone told me about this, I'd be very grateful.  This blog is only meant to be informative from my perspective, to give you all the power, knowledge, and options about Fibromyalgia to the best of my understanding, and from my interpretations.  The end.

Holy sack, it's cold.

My brothers used this term growing up.  I still use it.  Sack?  Like, um, ok.  No longer appropriate.

Holy sack, it's cold!  We hardly have any snow on the ground, but it's still bitterly cold.  People are always surprised when I tell them where I live in Idaho is JUST as humid as Texas, if not more.  I'm a Texan, if ya didn't know that by now, hence the comparison.  Ok, according to weather.com, it's 33 degrees with 34% humidity in McKinney (that's where the hubby and I come from.  McKinney, Texas.) Texas right now.  Here in southeast Idaho?  32 degrees with 85% humidity.  Ahhh, ya see?  Very, very humid.  It's always this humid.  Sometimes we're more humid than Texas, like now.  The only reason it's not as noticeable, is because of our extreme altitude.  Well, not as noticeable to you.  It's noticeable to me.  Humidity hurts.  Hurts like a mutha trucka.  Add negative degree weather to it (we've been SO lucky this year, it's normally MUCH colder this time of year) and you're asking for some serious pain.  At this time in December, we can have lots of snow and already be in the negative digits.  We're SO lucky this year.  I can't even say how grateful I am.  I wouldn't have a debilitating disease if something weren't botherin' me though, right?  It's still humid.  :)  That hurts.  If I had more joints, I'm sure they'd love to get in on the action, but as it is, my ankles, knees and hips are having quite the party over here.  Butt heads... My joints are killing me.  Fibrotics (yes, I made that word up.) don't do cold.  One, it kills our joints.  Two, we're extremely cold intolerant.  What is the connection between pain and nerves?  C'mon, think about it; overactive nerves?  Of course the cold would kill 'em.  They're already dealing with more than they can.  Heat is a pain reliever.  Yes, we LIVE for heat!  Right now as I write this, I'm wearing boots with thick socks, a shirt, my "I'm the Captain's woman" sweatshirt, I have two rice packs on my knees, AND I'm in my zebra print heating blanket.  Oh.  The laptop's warm, too.  Mmmmm, heat.  Love heat.  My fingers and toes are never warm.  Never.  It takes forever for my body to warm up as it is.  After this, I'm gonna take a scalding, hot bath.  These baths I take are so hot, my skin is welting red when I get out.  My legs tingle from the the lack of circulation.  I'm lobster red.  They feel so good, and that's about the only comfort I get.  Well, I would if my water heater was bigger.  I swear, it's worth getting rich JUST so I can install a never ending water heater.  My showers last about 20 minutes right now.  My body hasn't even warmed up at this point.  I would need at least an hour.  Yep, bigger water heater.

It was funny up until the old comment.  I'm not old.  Eh.

         

December 7th, Pearl Harbor, 71 years ago.

I love history.  I love history more than I could ever explain.  It runs deep through my veins, it's a huge part of who I am.  All things history related will give me the chills.  It will take me back through time and I swear I can hear and feel everything that was going on.  One of my favorite things to do is walking through cemeteries.  I love to feel the history there, wondering what their lives were like, wondering what they saw and experienced during their time period.  My Netflix "recently watched" list would make ya laugh.  Documentaries.  Lots and lots of documentaries.

I know you can't know your future without knowing your past.  Knowing your past is everything.  Embracing your past is everything.  It's what I want to make my life's work about.  I could never, ever get enough history.  I woke up this morning and my very first thought was, "December 7th.  Pearl Harbor."  Every December 7th I have an extremely serious mood about me.  It's so hard not to think of what happened.  The surprise of the attack, the screaming, the wounded, the panic, the fear.  I can only imagine it felt like the end of the world.  The mothers who never left their radios, knowing their sons were stationed in Hawaii.  The wives who frantically waited to see if their husbands were coming home or not.  The soldiers and sailors, at 7:55 a.m. that morning.  It was a beautiful, sunny, Sunday morning.  What an absolutely shocking morning.  Just waking up, maybe eating a lazy breakfast, never imagining they were minutes away from entering a world war.  Imagine waking up to see this:

This is absolutely horrifying.

Read the following story of COL Mildred Irene Clark, an Army nurse anesthetist stationed at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii at the time of the attack:

 "Loud explosions awakened me and I heard planes overhead. I opened the door and saw planes coming through the [Kole Kole] pass in the mountains between Honolulu and Schofield. The large bright insignia of the rising sun was boldly on the side of each plane. They flew so close I could hear the radio communications between the pilots. In one minute I dressed and ran to the hospital.

"The hospital was hit, even though the hospital building had a large red cross painted on the roof....Casualties were arriving on stretchers as I reported to the operating room, with ambulance siren wailing in the background. In a short time, the nine operating rooms were extremely busy, while patients waited for care in the corridor. I kept hearing planes overhead, but we were too busy to be afraid or to ask what was happening. All day and into the evening I went from one patient to the next without sitting down or having a cup of coffee. Someone brought fried chicken in but few of us felt hungry, as we had seen too much death and were involved with the most serious wounds and bravest of men. Patients had arms and legs amputated, severe chest and spinal wounds, abdominal and cranial wounds. Many wanted to go out and fight back. Some wanted a prayer said or to hear the 23rd Psalm, and we obliged them along with the surgical procedures....Sometime near early morning following the attack, several of us had the opportunity for a quiet moment to talk to each other and exchange our limited knowledge of what had happened."

 How can you not feel the horror?  The fear?  Can't you feel the heat from the explosions?  The screaming, the panic?

Imagine you've only heard rumors so far and then you wake up and see this plastered on  your newspaper.

 I have nothing but reverence and respect every December, 7th.  I cannot help but feel the pain for those individuals and for our country at the time.  For the more than 2,500 lives lost and over 1,000 wounded.

Thank you to the soldiers, sailors, nurses, and of course the natives during this time.  Thank you to the people they became.  To the men and women that would end the war of wars.  To end the reign of perhaps the worlds most evil dictator.  To end the suffering of millions of people.  As a descendant of holocaust survivors, I cannot say thank you enough.  Thank you for your bravery and sacrifice that lead the world to a better and safer place.

We will not forget!