A Love Story: Stronger Together

Waking up this morning with pain, I cried. Pure frustration. My poor husband asks, "What do you want for me to do?" At first, I asked for a massage.  When he asked where,  I just whimpered, "Nevermind."  Reality is, he can't possibly help.  The pain seems to have no spot to massage. It's just everywhere.

So, I ask for my Yoga Tune Up Therapy ball, hot pad, and water, and meds.  That helped me to calm down.  Then, he drew me a hot bath with Epsom salts. And, as I soaked, he brought me some tea. 

This is love. 

 Our Love Story

Our first summer together 1983
in Chelsea, MI at Camp MUCC.

I met Kelley when I was 19. He was 22. I was the waterfront director at a fairly unusual summer camp for kids. Camp MUCC, Michigan United Conservation Club, which for those of you who might not know, is a hunting club. Being I had never even thought about hunting before, this was an odd place for me to land a job. But I was there for the water.  Kelley, on-the-other-hand, having studied Wildlife Management at MSU, was hired as a riflery and hunting instructor.


This was to be my home for the summer before going off to college. I had just left my foster family's home never to be a dependent again. I knew I was now on my own. Kelley was on his own, too.  Everything he owned was in two luggage boxes.  This was to be his home before he ventured out to find his "real" job.

The week of training, before campers arrived, we hit it off right away. And from there, on the weekends, once the campers had left after breakfast on Saturday, we often were the only ones left at camp.  Being we were poor as college-students, but we had food and shelter on a small lake in the quaint town of Chelsea, MI. Life was good. 

Kelley was from Manton, MI,
  so he brought me to meet his family before our week's journey.
 His older sister was shocked
when he showed up at her door with a girl!

At the end of the summer, before I headed to college and Kelley off to Arizona to try to get a ranger job at any national park, we went on a week-long canoe trip, just us two, down the beautiful Manistee River.  It was probably the most wonderful week of my life.  At the beginning of the trip, Kelley asked, "What if I asked you to marry me?"  I snorted, "I'm too young for marriage. I'd say no." Nothing more was said about that all week.  However, at the end of the week, as Kelley was taking me back home to Grand Rapids, his car broke down near the Cedar Springs exit.  

We stayed the night at the campground just off from 131, Kelley covered in grease as he worked on the car to get it going. I remember him looking up from the engine as I stood there talking to him and handing him tools as he requested.  And that was when he decided it was the perfect time to ask, "Will you marry me?"  I didn't hesitate, didn't even recall what I had said one week earlier, "Yes, I will."  


We were engaged, no ring or anything at that point.  We didn't tell anyone we were for at least half a year.  Kelley was leaving for AZ in the coming week, and I would be at UofM forging a new life.  Not sure we knew how things would work out, but I know for sure we both knew we were going to be together through it.

This was before the Internet and email was a thing in your average person's life. Kelley and I were poor.  I was living off my savings from the $1000 I had made over the summer, Pell Grants, and student loans.  Kel was living with his mom and step-dad (both very supportive of him finding a National Park job) and odd jobs he found in Phoenix. We could not afford long-distance calls and so we wrote. 

I've kept these in a binder from that time.
There are over 100 letters, notes, and cards.

Kelley was and is a guy who shows his love through what he does and generally doesn't say lovey-dovey stuff.  Surprisingly, when given a pen and paper and no way else for us to connect, and he poured everything out.  I, too, found that writing allowed me to fully express my thoughts and emotions, much more so than when we were goose-bumped, love-struck-dumb in the presence of each other. (Ah, new love!) And so the letters (long, long letters) flowed.  

After six-months apart, Kel not finding a park job and me really struggling at school, he decided to drive back to Michigan.  The red Pacer he was driving was glued and tied together for the most part.  But he was determined to get back to me.  He drove straight through on what would be the equivalent of several Monster caffeinated drinks (but his was black caffeinated capsules).  By the time he got to Ann Arbor, his eyes were buggy and bloodshot and his hair a greasy mess.  He called me at the dorm room letting me know that his car had conked-out on the highway.  

Being I didn't have a car, my good friend, Mindy drove me to get him.  She was ever so kind to let this wild-eyed, unsavory looking man into her car.  She had really only heard my stories, saw me writing him letters, and making him mixed-tapes of love songs, but she really had no idea who he was at this time. 

We laugh now (she and her husband have been good friends all these years later) at how she out of pure love and concern said, "Katie, are you sure you want to marry this guy?"  I was sure.  I loved that scruffy, red-bearded man, and I knew he loved me. 

Now, that's some car!

It was that February (Groundhog's day) that we bought my engagement ring and our wedding rings. That next summer, we did one more stint as camp counselors at Camp MUCC and then the next spring, 5/25/1985, we were married, surrounded by our family and friends. 

We've been married 34 years. Down days like the past few, make me appreciate the love we share.  We've had so many twists, turns, ups, and downs on this journey together.  We've grown so much from those homeless babies back when we first met.  The life that we've built together gives me strength, courage, and purpose.  

Being parents to two amazing children,
and then being blessed to bring in
our daughter-in-law and now our grand-daughter,
makes everything make sense, you know?

Kel this morning at his desk of our shared office.

We continue to journey together. This year finds us with more twists and turns.  Ever stronger together, we will find our way.

I almost didn't write a post this week.
The first two paragraphs were written on Monday.
I was too out-of-it and down to write after that.
Until today.  The direction of the post took
a totally different turn as I thought about
how much my guy means to me
and just how much he supports me and has
from the very beginning.

Thank you for visiting my blog today. 

I am committing to posting once a week on Fridays. 
However, as you know, my new normal means that some times,
I have to listen to my body and am not able to follow through as planned.
Thank you for your understanding.

Click link Subscribe to Pain FULLY Living Weekly Posts by Email

Up in the Air: Struggles with Flying, Fibro Flare, and Acceptance

Photo by Skitterphoto
While I have appreciated flying with Delta
Airlines, the long walk to the back of the plane,
being stuffed between to bigger men,
 three tight transfers, and my sensitivity
 to all things in motion,
made for a very challenging trip. 

This week, my husband and I splurged on a ticket for me to join him in Pasco, Washington.  Kelley does contract work that causes him to travel about one week each month.  Being I had never been to the state of Washington and he was going to be gone from Monday to Saturday, we decided that I would come along.

Not Prepared

I blame myself (and my brain fog) for how the trip has gone.  After a pretty active and clear-headed week, I found myself very tired and foggy last Saturday.  Being we've always packed a day or night ahead of any trip, I didn't even consider planning ahead.  BIG MISTAKE!  I really haven't been on any long travel trips since before my diagnosis.  The last big trip (driving from Michigan to California and back) was two years ago and the beginning of the unusual, constant, deep pain roving all over my body.  

And so, Sunday, while not horrible, found me not at all motivated or clear-headed when I packed just before bedtime.  My belligerent body, seemingly because it knew we'd have to get up at 4 am, decided then that I didn't need to sleep at all.  And so, I was awake and ready to go by 4:30; however, my zombified brain didn't consider that I didn't have my purse with me until we were nearly at the airport, one hour away from home.  Of course, no identification meant no boarding.

Our text convo😖

Good News, Bad News

Being we didn't have flight insurance (something we may have to bite the bullet and pay the extra fee next time), we didn't expect that I would be able to go.  However, Delta, being overbooked for that morning's flight was asking for volunteers to take the later flight.  My husband was able to get them to add me to that ticket at no extra charge to us.  So, off he went, with me driving home to better prepare for my travel. 

It was a bit of a knuckled drive home due to icy conditions on the roads, and I was struggling to keep awake.  I felt like I was in some out-of-body state. However, I made it home safely and was really looking forward to cuddling back into bed for a few hours of sleep.  Determined to get my purse into my backpack so that I had everything ready for later, I looked for it hanging on the hooks in the mudroom.  Not there... So, did I leave it in my car (a bad habit I've gotten into lately)?  Nope.  Where could it be? Then, it dawned on me.  I rode in the backseat of my husband's car (the one we took to the airport that morning) with my granddaughter three days ago when we took her to a waterpark for the day. I walked meekly to the garage where I had just parked it and looked into the backseat; sure enough, there it was.😖

Even so, I really didn't let it get to me.  I was actually thankful for the extra time to myself to get some sleep, do some yoga, and just rest, knowing that I'd be stronger for the flight the next morning.

Feeling confident and prepared,
I started my Tuesday morning
pretty alert and energetic.

Let the Games Begin

I felt ready.  Starbucks' non-dairy splurge coffee made me feel like a pro. It wasn't until my short flight to Detroit that I really looked at my tickets.  I was arriving at A5 four-minutes before boarding started for my flight to Salt Lake which was leaving from gate A65.  Hmm... I realized that I was going to have to sprint.  I made it and had time to pee before getting on because I was in one of the last seats on the plane (beggars can't choose better seats).  As I carefully walked down the narrow aisle, guarding my backpack so as not to hit anyone, I saw my seat, middle-stuffing between two bigger guys.  Luckily, I don't mind smaller spaces, or so I thought.  

Boy, I now realize that being confined without ways to stretch really isn't good for my tightly-wound body. It was a long four and a half hours.  I had chosen not to travel by myself while on Bonine for my motion-sickness and forgot my ginger chews, so as the flight progressed, I began to get a strange dizzy-headache that then lead to a hardball forming in the pit of my stomach. During the last 45-minutes of travel,  I did nothing but work on closing my eyes and slow breathing.  I was glad to get off without having to use the little paper bag provided in the seat pocket in front of me. 

The last connection, again a very tight-transition time, caused me to have to get directly on the flight to WA.  I was in the very last row of this puddle-jumper airplane and knew from the get-go that it was going to be a rough trip for me.  I didn't open my eyes until the wheels touched down an hour and a half later.  Meditating got me through the time without throwing up, but my body was one big knot, and it took everything I had to get my suitcase and find Kelley waiting for me just outside the airport's doors. 

A wonderful room to hang out, write, read, and do yoga.
Unfortunately, I'm still feeling like I have
motion sickness.

Not Feeling the Acceptance

I'm struggling with acceptance.  Today is the third day of feeling like I'm still motion-sick with added muscle pain literally everywhere.  I'm feeling so weak, dizzy, light-headed, and nauseous in addition to aggravating, whimper inducing pain at every point of my body. I really had wanted to use this get-a-way to write, read, and practice meditation and yoga while Kelley went off to his job. While I am doing some of that, it's coming hard.  I've been feeling a bit defeated in the whole practicing of acceptance. I have this gnawing doubt that my life with fibro will never get better and that going on Cymbalta just maybe my only option.

But still, I plugged on the past couple of days searching for anything that proves I'm on the right path of rewiring my brain through meditation and mindfulness.  I went down a neuroplasticity and meditation Google research path that took me to an open door of hope.

Photo by milivanily
Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction by
Jon Kabat-Zinn is a scientifically
researched 8-week meditation class
that has shown great results for
people with issues like chronic pain.

Have You Heard of MBSR?

I hadn't heard of Mindfulness-based Stress Reduction Therapy until I stumbled on the research paper titled "Mindfulness- and acceptance-based interventions for patients with fibromyalgia – A systematic review and meta-analyses". The report talks about how participants in 8-weeks of meditation classes of 30-40 minutes a day caused noticeable, positive changes in their brains. This led me to find the developer of MSBR, Jon Kabat-Zinn (who I actually have read his book Wherever You Go, There You Are).  I ended up watching a talk he gave to Google employees on their lunch hour: Mindfulness with Jon Kabat-Zinn.  From there, I found various ways to participate in the 8-week course, but all of them would cost a decent amount.  Then, I stumbled on something amazing!  The course is offered online for free from Dave Potter, a fully-certified MBSF instructor.

I started my preparation for the 8-week class today.  Instead of a printed notebook of the materials as is suggested, I'm creating a digital version.  So far, I have it ready through week 1.  Feel free to make a copy of what I have or follow along with me as I add the upcoming weeks in as I go.  

Click arrows to go through the pages.  

Some pages have links to videos and PDFs.  

I've enjoyed the meditation that I've done through Calm and Jeff Warren, but they tend to be short sessions.  They've given me the thirst for more, and I think this is a good next step.  

Trip Home

In my research, I have also learned that my impromptu travel planning and packing is not the best when you have fibromyalgia.  I've found a few helpful articles by fellow spoonies that I will use for this home trip and those to come.  Also, I'm going to take Bonine which will make me really sleepy, but with Kelley leading me around, I should be okay.

Do you have any travel tricks that make long journeys more bearable and less flare causing?  Have you tried MBSR or meditation to help with your symptoms?  I'd love to learn from you.

Thank you for visiting my blog today. 

I am committing to posting once a week on Fridays.  However, as you know,

my new normal means that some times I have to listen to my body and am

not able to follow through as planned. Thank you for your understanding.

Click link Subscribe to Pain FULLY Living Weekly Posts by Email

Feeling Like #$@&%*!

Believe me, I feel like SHIT!

For those of you who know me, I don't swear....much.  In fact, it's only been in the last few years that I even swear at all.  This has been the base of much teasing for me.

As a teen, as my volleyball teammates would use the full out "S" word or "D" word after missing a serve, I would really strongly say things like "bananas!"  My partner teacher for 16 years, feels proud that she has encouraged and trained me to open up to the use of the vulgar vernacular now and then when there are no other words that really capture the sentiment.
So, I am going to just say it; I feel like SHIT!  I have not felt this bad since I had viral meningitis (I'm not as bad as that time in the emergency room, but man, it's reminding me of it). Since the purpose of this blog is for me to record my true journey (for healing through the writing and remembering where I've been) and to possibly help others who are dealing with Fibromyalgia, I've decided to write this (as I can today because doing anything and nothing are both really difficult right now).

An Overconfident and Rash Decision

Last Monday, I spent the night at my daughter's house.  It's a treat to have a "girls night" and then hang out at her house the next day.  However, I realized Tuesday morning that I had forgotten to bring/take my Cymbalta pill that I've been on since December 7th, 2019 for a total of six months.  (As explained in my post Leave No Stone Unturned, I had gone from 30mg to 60mg back to 30mg.)

On the 18th of this month, I went for my pain medication checkup.  My doctor and I had planned on taking me fully off Cymbalta at that time.  At my last, pain psychologist appointment, my doctor said that I'd probably go to zero from 30mg since it's the lowest dose anyhow. (I've since learned that that's not quite true. 15 mg is the lowest commercial dose available.) Then, she said they'd want me to give it a month or two to see how I'm doing without it.  My thinking was that by going off Cymbalta I could then see how I am doing without the brain-altering drugs and from there, see if I would be able to manage the fibro symptoms without it.

So, this past Tuesday, I thought, Why not just stop now?  Then, when I go on the 18th, I can let my doctors know-how I'm doing. I was feeling fully confident that I'd be doing pretty well because the 10-week Chronic Pain Program had taught me a lot of ways to manage the pain.

A Reminder That I'm Not Fully In Control

Thursday night, after a wonderful day of hiking and photography with my daughter and 13 teens in the woods, I was beyond worn out.  I wasn't sure I could drive myself home.  I felt weak, dizzy, and a bit nauseous.  I could feel a headache coming on. I scolded myself for leaving my water bottle in the car rather than have it on the seven-hour trip, figuring that dehydration was the culprit. (I did eat many grapes and had some applesauce, so I wasn't crazy dehydrated.) By the time I got home, I couldn't bring myself to drink water or eat anything.  I did take some Bayer Back and Body with some water, though and was in bed by 6pm.  As the evening wore on, I got worse.  I couldn't even listen to soothing music or my book without being bothered.  Finally, I did fall asleep and felt relatively okay the next morning.

These are withdrawal side-effects from Cymbalta.
I have every one of these (except the brain-zaps).

Yesterday, feeling the edge of what I had the night before, I canceled my appointment in the morning and then had to sit out on the kayak trip I had been looking forward to with the Outdoor Adventure group of women called the Wander Women with whom I had just recently begun to connect (see my blog post Sleep, Fog, and Vampires).  However, by afternoon, I could go swimming and felt pretty good doing it.  I swam and worked on the beach from 1-5pm.  Still feeling good, I went up for a shower because Kel and I had tickets to see the Mark Lavengood Band: Bluegrass Bonanza at The Dogwood: Center for Performing Arts because I will be writing an article for our local NewaygoCountyExploring online magazine. 

I Want Off This Ride!

The first set, I was totally into the music and even would have liked to dance.  During intermission, I went and interviewed Mark (very talented musician from Grand Rapids).  But, when I sat down and the first song of the second set started, I felt a wave of ill-ease wash over me.  I knew it was the start of what I had the night before.

Last night wasn't good-fitful sleep and up by 4am. But this morning, man oh man!  I feel like I've just gotten off the Whirl-A-Twirl ride that also included a Sock-O-Matic machine in the car that I was riding in. And this morning, it's ramping up rather than going away.

One of my major fears for even starting a med like Cymbalta were all the stories of withdrawal symptoms.  One friend had told me about her mom's experience after taking it for two years.  The withdrawal ended up being so bad (horrible brain shocks, etc) that she gave up and went back on it.

Not So Cocky Now, Am I?

So, today, my decision is to push on.  I sure do hope these warnings I have read in online articles about the side effects from Cymbalta withdrawal can take weeks or even months to get back to my "normal" self are not correct.  I do have Cymbalta pills I could take, but I'm five days without and just don't want to start over.  I'm currently sitting on the deck, in the shade, wet cool rag on my head.  The light breeze and lake view are helping me feel some better.

My husband, son, and four-year-old grand-daughter are taking care of me like an invalid.  I sure hope I'm up to going swimming this afternoon.  Tomorrow, we have family coming over for lake fun.  Monday or Tuesday, I'm hanging out with someone I only ever get to see every few years (she's in Michigan visiting from Arizona). I haven't been able to go to my yoga class since Wednesday. This is F#$@ed-up! (While I use that word verbally now and then, I still don't feel comfortable writing it out.)

My VOW: I am going to do every OTHER thing rather than EVER be on meds like this again!

Article on Easing Cymbalta Withdrawal Symptoms: https://www.25doctors.com/cymbalta-withdrawal

Have you ever been on any of the three FDA-approved Fibromyalgia prescription medications?  What has been your experience?

Thank you for visiting my blog today. 

I am committing to posting once a week on Fridays.  

However, as you know, my new normal means that sometimes 

I have to listen to my body and am not able to follow through 

as planned. 

Thank you for your understanding.

Click link Subscribe to Pain FULLY Living Weekly Posts by Email

Fear of the Fibro Flare

A Fibro Flare is an increase in symptoms: all over body pain,
foggy brain, fatigue, weakness, dizziness, etc.
This can last a day or two or but can continue for
days or months.

So, last Friday, I went to yoga for a wonderful SOMA Breathing Class of 90 minutes.  Joan, my yoga teacher, is a certified instructor.  There were about  5 of us.  Joan first guides us into a preparation meditation, then we did three rounds of SOMA breathing (see above explanation link), towards the end, she brings us back through a closing meditation, and finally Savasana.  First off, Joan is a poet.  Her meditation guidance is so beautiful and inspirational.  Then, the deep, slow belly breathing, I know it sounds weird, but it's calming and energizing, dreamy and clarifying.  It really was profound for me this time, more so than the several times before.

I felt so strong and confident.  I felt I could do anything.  This is a feeling that I haven't had for at least three years, and this past year has been so far from this feeling that I thought I'd never have it again. I came to the decision that I wanted to buy a local building/business.  I could just see it being the perfect place for the meadery that my son would like to one day own and Kelley and I are interested in being a part of. I went home and talked to Andrew and Kelley about it, ignoring to the most part Kelley's practical yet deflating concerns.

Then, I went to the doctor's for my 11 am appointment to get the Shingrix shot (2nd dose).  I knew to expect the "punched in the arm" sensation that I had with the first dose.  I do wish the nurse, however, had warned me that there could be more to it than that.

Still feeling really strong and positive, I went to do some volunteer work that involves organizing a HUGE library of literacy resources. (Right up my alley!)  After a few hours of moving books around in a fairly warm attic, I went home to get cleaned up and go to look at the building.

By 3:00 pm, I was starting to feel really body tired and to develop a headache along with my left arm hurting like I'd let someone punch me as hard as they could to show that I could take it.  Our meeting at the building was good.  Many questions answered.  More and more I could feel, though, that I was really starting to disintegrate. By the time we got home after stopping for our favorite ice cream, 5pm, I had to go to bed, my entire body now felt like I'd been pummeled.

Now, the panic started setting in.  I had been feeling soooo good.  Yes, a bit of pain, but it wasn't stopping me from doing what I wanted to do. Crying, I told Kelley that I couldn't be counted on for commitments like the business.  If a vaccine was going to through my body into an all-over flair of this degree (probably my first 7/10 on the Medical Pain Scale), I realized that I couldn't count on this body and mind to allow me to do whatever I wanted with my life.

 I ended up being up all night.  After going to the couch to allow my husband to sleep, I tucked myself into supported savasana with my extra soft, fluffy blankets (3) and my comfort pillows (3). That's when the unstoppable shivering and feeling cold to the bone started along with feeling nauseous. I tried my go tos: going to the couch to allow my husband to sleep, breathing, heating pad, massage, stretching, meditation, Bayer: Back and Body (still on the 30mg of Cymbalta before bed), drinking water, and bundling up.  But, nothing worked until about 4 in the morning, the shivers and fever passed. I was finally able to fall asleep.

In the morning, as the sun rose, I awoke.  The pain was still there all over but much less severe.  I could get up, get my morning meds, and research the Shingrix shot.  And here's what I found:  Some people felt tired, had muscle pain, a headache, shivering, fever, stomach pain, or nausea. About 1 out of 6 people who got Shingrix experienced side effects that prevented them from doing regular activities.  Symptoms went away on their own in about 2 to 3 days. Side effects were more common in younger people.

A sense of relief came over me almost washing away the pain completely. It was just side effects!  Not my fibro-brain reacting to the shot and shoulder-site pain, turning it into an all-over body alarm. It wasn't a Fibro Flare!  My body bounced back to normal (except the left shoulder pain that lasted until Monday morning).

I know flare-ups will come.  But, I'm mostly confident I can manage them.  I also feel like little things like a shot won't cause my body to go into complete alarm mode.  I don't want to live my life out of fear of a flare. I want to do what I want to do when I want to do it (within the frame of self-care and listening inward).  This scare, really helped me to see that I can't live as if trying to stay away from triggers.  That's just too limiting and will mean that fear will rule my decisions.  I choose courage (with the help of others) and when the flare is triggered, I chose to manage the symptoms (with the help of others), knowing I have done this before and will make it through.

PS-For a variety of reasons, we have decided not to buy the building.  One of those reasons, however, is not because I can't be counted on.

PSS-I do totally support getting the Shingrix vaccine.  A weekend of inconvenience is way better than getting Shingles!

PSSS-The management strategies I have learned will be shared in future posts.

How do you handle the fear of a flare?  Can you get past the fear?  What makes you feel strong?

Thank you for visiting my blog today. 

I am committing to posting once a week on Fridays.  

However, as you know, my new normal means that sometimes 

I have to listen to my body and am not able to follow through as planned. 

Thank you for your understanding.

Click link Subscribe to Pain FULLY Living Weekly Posts by Email

Gratitude for these Days of FULLNESS

Boy, I've had a great start to the summer.  Well, that is after the first few weeks of June.  Stress (mental, emotional, or physical strain or tension ) is known for flaring up the symptoms of fibromyalgia (pain, brain fog, insomnia, exhaustion, etc.) significantly.  For me saying goodbye to my 6th grade classes (seeing them for the first time since I'd been off and packing up my books and personal things the last weeks for May) and then on June 3rd, attending the annual SCHOOLS OUT FOR SUMMER celebration at a wonderful watering hole downtown in the big city hit me hard.  I mean shockingly hard.  Yesterday, when telling it to a friend over coffee was the first time I had spoken of it without crying-just a little tearing up.  

Through a Fibromyalgia Chronic Pain program at Mary Free Bed Rehabilitation Hospital, a pain clinical psychologist I've been seeing during the 10-week program has been reminding me that this is a time of change.  You can be sad at the end of something and happy/excited about the start of something at the very same time.  Change = stress.  It's normal and okay that I've been struggling.

However, I'm bouncing back this week and have had FULL wonderful days since last Thursday.  Looking back, I realize just how blessed I truly am. I feel so grateful for my life just as it is at this moment.

My Blessings

This weekend, my husband and I  met with friends we hadn't seen in a couple of years.  We shared memories, shared some joys from our current lives and a few raw sorrows. We sat on the open patio at a brewery downtown Grand Rapids for three hours before the talk and energy ran out.  

I've been working out with my daughter at a local spa/gym/rehabilitation on Tuesday and Thursday nights after she's done with work.  I'm going to a yoga studio most mornings; such a great way to shake the rust and stiffness that has crept back in overnight. 

Yesterday, after yoga class, a new friend and I walked to a local coffee shop to share breakfast and life. Last night, I sat on a deck overlooking Jordan lake with fellow teachers I worked with 13 years ago sipping drinks and sharing stories. The sunshine, breeze, sparkling water, and great conversation filling me up. I drove home not even tired from the full day. 

Today, I met with some of my besties from school (first time since the last day of school last year). We laughed so much!  The sheer ease of our friendship reminding us that we will forever be bonded.

Celebration of How Things Are

This is in no way meant to show off.  In fact, it's a celebration that I'm able to do this.  What a FULL week that's filling instead of depleting me.  My creative juices are flowing, and I'm so excited for each day.  Just so many possibilities.  I am amazingly fortunate, grateful for all this chronic condition has helped me to notice the moment I'm in and relish it.  I won't lie, I have to be diligent to use all that I've learned so that my body and mind can function in a healthy way. Listening to my intuition and body is slowly becoming more a part of my instincts.  

My pain doctor from Mary Free Bed has told me that if I continue down the path of taking care of myself, that in a couple of years, I may really have changed from the brain paths that were deep, painful Fibro ruts to fresh, new roads paved in gratitude and a whole lot less pain. 

What do you do to find the blessings in your life? To, despite the pain, find the good? This is, to me, the crux of the work to heal, paving new brain paths with gratitude.

I am committing to posting once a week on Fridays.  

However, as you know, my new normal means that sometimes I have

to listen to my body and am not able to follow through as planned. 

Thank you for your understanding.

Click link Subscribe to Pain FULLY Living Weekly Posts by Email