My Life - My Fibro

 A lot has happened since my last post and I think my heading explains a lot! I’m not sure that moving into a listed cottage was really what I wished for, but I was persuaded to think that it was.  It was an idyllic place to be, within a valley, but with sea views and somewhere that I knew well and had happy memories of.  My house went up for sale, and off I went with plenty of helping hands, and the first six weeks were hard work, but I didn’t mind because I was falling in love with the place. And I thought it liked me!  I mentioned in my previous posts that several people I had spoken to - pharmacists, nurses and friends, had suggested that it was an allergy to damp and though my doctor couldn’t say for certain that it was damp, he was sure that the humidity in the cottage was much too high, which we know can lead to damp. Having searched everywhere, I found no evidence of mold, but was told that it could be within the walls, or ceilings and covered up. That was ce...

 I am trying. Today, I really, really, embarrassed myself!  And, I think, embarrassed the person I was with. I could see that she didn’t know how to handle it, which made it even worse.  The problem I talked about in my last post, is unresolved and still a problem as I have over time,  presented with far more symptoms.  But, of what? The list is endless and could, just almost, be fibro related, but somehow I don’t believe they are.  I did the dreaded google thing, entered all my symptoms, and up came “an allergic reaction’, especially to damp. As I recently moved into a rented property - a listed cottage - I wondered if that could be the reason. Friends and relatives who visited, also mention that it could be damp and I purchased a dehumidifier, which has been running day and night to no avail. The readings still seem high to me and unsuitable for people with a chronic illness. My symptoms are ‘nausea, dizziness, headaches, sore throat, taste loss, lethargy...

 It’s seven fifteen in the morning and I’m trying to motivate myself into leaving my bed and getting washed and dressed.  It’s such an effort at the moment, but there is still lots I have to do if I’m to make it feel like home.  I didn’t sleep well again and every movement hurts. My cat is the only one here to hear me groan and she’s used to it.  My alarm is set for six, but Sherbert began making a noise at four, because she knew I was awake and wanted breakfast - it’s the only time I see her. I resisted and didn’t move out of bed until after six - I really didn’t feel like moving, but when I did, I began singing to distract from how I felt. My first stop was the bathroom; my second was sitting on the staircase and having a rare cuddle with my rescue baby; the third was making sure she has fresh water and food; the fourth was a cup of coffee for me which I brought back to bed to drink and listen to the news, before I meditated. The news can be quite depressing at the...

I’ve just realised that my heading is so similar to the one of my last post, but it resonates with me so much and has for a while now. I’m sure I’m not alone in having to remind myself that despite how much of an effort my days are, I can still sing. And I can still smile. There has been a huge change in my life and lifestyle since my last post and I’m still asking myself if I’ve made a mistake and my answer is, to give it time. And give me time to heal.  After losing my partner, I threw myself into paperwork, gardening, housework, sorting, etc. Anything to keep my mind occupied and stop me from going over things - things I couldn’t change. Looking back, I wonder how I coped with the pain, the fatigue and the grief, but somehow I did.  Eighteen months after he died, I decided that the house and garden were too much for me and began thinking of moving. I also accept that I wanted to escape the pain of loss and the house reminded me of that.  Friends kept telling me it was ...

 It’s been a while again since my last post.  It’s that time of the year when I seem to struggle with finding the energy, and the health, to prepare for the festive season.  My spoons have to be chosen carefully. Living with fibromyalgia means constant fatigue. Did I actually say that? Chosen carefully!  If only it were that easy!  It isn’t always possible to plan the day around me and what I need and, yes, I forget about the spoons and I plod on, even though I know there’ll be a price to pay……and there will. However, despite being so completely exhausted, and stiff, and feeling out of it, I can experience moments of joy that make me smile and will keep me smiling on the days when I need one. And there are many days when I need one! Hence the heading. I do love to hear the birds and it always makes me think of the quote by Maya Angelou ‘why does the caged bird sing……because it has a song’.  It . doesn't sing because it's happy, it sings because it can ...