Time flies regardless

Well, it's certainly been a while, hasn't it?

Let me see...

Last published post was on the ninth.  The eleventh was my birthday, which was none too fun.  I wrote a whole post, but decided not to publish it.  Printed word is too open to misinterpretation, and the nature of this post opened a can of worms I simply didn't want to get in to.  Anyway, I spent my birthday in pain, miserable, and frustrated.

I confess that I have fallen behind in school.  I'm on top of my Ling classes, but my Ed classes not so much.  My goal is to have my overdue lesson plan turned in on Monday, and get at least one of the major postings for the other class done this weekend.
Of course, we all know where leads the road paved with good intentions...

Things have been kind of roller-coaster-ish with my honor society.  I'm the secretary, but I really do a lot for the society, and of the officers, I do the most.  I'm rather frustrated because we recently did a Halloween costume drive and we received nothing.  (I'm not counting the 4 costumes my advisor managed to collect and donate after the fact.)  The president and other officers were so lackadaisical and passive that the word did not get spread and hardly anything was done.  The advisor called me a few days ago and said she was going to speak to the president and have me instated in that office in her stead, as I am the one carrying the presidency.  I feel like I'm constantly poking and prodding the officers, and picking up the slack behind them before things fall through the cracks (ah, English metaphor...).

When the advisor met with the president, Pres was very surprised that this would be asked of her.  Apparently she "didn't want to hold me back" or "get in my way" since I seemed "very enthusiastic."  This sounds like BS to me, since her job simply isn't getting done.  I'm not doing her job; I'm not standing in her way.  She either has no idea what she's doing and isn't putting forth the effort to learn, or isn't passionate about it and getting done what she needs to.  In fact, I've been dancing around this semester trying desperately not to overstep my bounds or step on her toes while watching her duties go unfilled.  Which has really been hard for me to do.  But the advisor thinks that there is sincerity behind her remarks.  Anyway, we're meeting tomorrow.  I want to get this solidly figured out before our new member recognition mid-November because right now I feel pulled and stretched and emotionally tossed around.

I'm also contemplating not continuing in my Ed program.  I'm so annoyed with all the bureaucracy and requirements and tests and dancing around that is required to become and be a teacher.  I'm sick of lesson plans and unit plans and accommodations and assessments.  And I honestly don't think I would survive student teaching without going insane.

And there have been some, um, "fun" things going on with my insurance and pharmacy.  Last week I received a package in the mail.  Well, Husband picked up the mail.  He came in shaking the envelope, which rattled like a bottle of meds.  He jokingly asked if I was getting drugs in the mail now.  Um... no...?  Well, I opened the envelope and, sure enough, it contained a bottle of prescription meds.  One of my prescriptions, 90 days worth, all the right info (name, insurance, prescribing doctor, all that), that I had NEVER ORDERED.  (Oh, and a bill for the meds.)

I logged on to my pharmacy's website, and that med is still listed as having three refills left. So I called the company that sent me the meds. (This company is a branch of my pharmacy & has connections with my insurance company.)

Well, apparently it is not some sort of kooky mistake. They received a fax from my insurance co. for this prescription for 3 months and that action supposedly obligates them to fill and send the prescription.

At my last rheumy appt (just over a month ago), he prescribed 3 new meds, and this was one of them. One is for serious pain that doesn't respond to other stuff. The other two I was supposed to try one, and then the other. The problem is that they were both listed on the same prescription. So when I went to fill the one I wanted to try first (not the one I got mailed!), it filled them both. And of course, there was some nonsense with filling the prescription I wanted to try 2nd because it's not in generic and not automatically covered my insurance, blah blah blah. Hence the fax from my insurance co. and the filling of the meds.

I'm frustrated because I haven't even gotten to the point of trying these meds yet with the 2wk sample from the rheumy & the 1st month that got filled "by default." Much less am I ready for this new 3 month supply. I don't know what the side effects will be... heck, I could be allergic to this med, but don't know because I haven't tried it yet. And now they want me to pay the copay for 2 months worth of meds. Boom. Right now. (After paying for tuition and an ER visit and... and... and... this month.)

(Other voice in my head argues back:) But it's only 2 months of copay instead of 3 (apparently I got month free through this mail service). So if I do decide that I do want to be on this medication, this is way better financially than filling it through my local pharmacy.
 

The part that makes me mad is that I had NO SAY in any of this!!!

But I'm starting this med tonight.  It has in it's list of side effects pretty much every possible side effect under the sun, then comments that it is not a complete list of side effects, so who knows how my body will react, but I have a four day weekend, so I figure this is a good time to figure out if I'm allergic to it, at least.   Grrr.

There's just so much going on right now.  Time is racing past and leaving me behind.

Swear words, Sarcasm, and Suffering

Well, that relief was certainly short lived.  I went to sleep at midnight.  At two, I rolled over again and *zap*! resume shooting pain.

Fricative and argelfraster!

I really expected those really painful injections into my neck to provide relief that would last longer than forty hours.  So now I'm up, after only two hour sleep, having Grape Nuts so that I can take three different types of pain relief (yes, they can all be taken together).  Then I'll attempt to go back to sleep and hope desperately that I'll be able to get everything done tomorrow that I need to.

But I'm SO FRUSTRATED!!!  Why is the pain BACK!?!?  And WHY the BLAZES am I awake after only two hours sleep!?!?

As much FUN as I'm having, I'm ready to lead a boring, normal life now.

A Handful of Randomness

Thought #1-- Tuesday (either this past Tuesday or the one before it), I was on a break during my late-afternoon class (morphology) and was walking toward the restroom.  My Jackie-friend had come out of the classroom a few moments after I did and was behind me some distance in the hallway.  Apparently she called out, "Hey, Cripple!", but didn't want to do it too loudly, because she knew that much of the world would find such an exclamation to be offensive.  It reminds me of a topic discussed in another linguistics class (I warned you, I have a linguistics reference for everything!) where we talked about social marketplaces and symbolic capital, communities of practice and indexing... basically how you show that you are part of a group and perform your identity.  The fact that my Jackie-friend can call me a cripple and that I can call myself one in her presence (like the recent blog about another classmate and "cripple parking") shows the relationship we have.  (Another fantastic example of this is given in Marlita Hill's speech.  Check out the videos! #1 and #2)

Thought #2-- I had a ling test today (more linguistics.  This is why I blog.  Because my friends just can't take it anymore).  It was for LING 100: English Grammar and Syntax.  I went to the testing services (I get disability services on tests) and was, shall we say, rather amused by the amount of difficulty that was a part of taking this simple little test.  In all, it probably took me twenty minutes max to take.  But it actually took two hours.  Why?  Well, first, because of budget issues, they are grossly understaffed.  Which means there are no students to answer phones, pass out exams, etc.  So even though I was scheduled to begin at 10, it was at least five past before they began setting me up for my exam.  Then they put me in the wrong room.  See, the computer program I use for drawing sentence trees (yes, sentences grow on trees) was only installed on two computers.  And the computer they put me on wasn't one of them.  After getting on the right computer, I found that the program wasn't installed properly, since it wouldn't open.  (Of course, the other computer it was supposed to be on wouldn't boot at all.)  So after having the student at the desk look at it... and the secretary... and the disability services coordinator... a call was put in to the tech department.  Meanwhile, I did the multiple choice and then drew the trees on my white board.  (I can write on a white board a good deal longer than on paper.  But it was interesting cramming all five trees on my little white board!)  Then the tech dweebs came and tried to figure out why the program wasn't working.  Interesting fellows.  Not exactly the brightest stars in their field.  Finally the program worked.  I think there's a glitch in the program, though, because when you try to export the trees as images, the files don't work right.  On my computer, I can just tell it to open with paint or some other image editing software and it does.  Not on the DSS computer, though.  (Thankfully I know how to use print screens, though, so I managed to solve that without issue.)  Click click typety click and I was all done.  It was rather interesting to see though: the student passing off the issue to the nearest person in authority.  The secretary looking at the computer in bafflement.  The DSS coordinator getting angry at the tech department for messing up.  The tech dweebs for being totally unprepared and uninformed.  (And for it taking two to log in, reinstall, and change a setting.  Really?)  And me, watching in amusement.

Thought #3-- Oh, yes, my doctor's appointment!  I almost forgot.  Short little appointment.  My doc says I have a pinched nerve in my neck.  So we're adding Aleve for a few days and hoping that the inflammation goes away and doesn't come back.  If it does, I'm to call and get sent to a spinal specialist for another injection (this time more accurate than what they can do in the ER).  But I can move my head today!  Yay!  Almost full range of motion and very little pain.  (The skin is hypersensitive, but that may be due to the injections.)  The doc says he thinks this is a one-time thing and that once it goes away I shouldn't have persistent trouble with it.

Thought #4-- After the doc appt, I went back to campus to talk with my professor and apologize for having to leave in the middle of her class.  We had a great chat: linguistics, books, families, fieldwork... it was fabulous.  I got some great book recommendations and always enjoy picking her brain.  Good times.

Well, I have other thoughts floating around, but they are more complicated to put into the two-dimensional bloggosphere, so they shall wait and be mused upon some more.

Busy day tomorrow: Meeting with the advisor of my honor society, another appointment, and then with my second graders.

Another Day, Another Diagnosis

This morning started early for me--like four a.m. early.  (And let me mention that I am not a morning person.  I am a night owl.  So four a.m. is not user friendly to me.)  At four I rolled over in bed and had pain shoot through my neck and down my shoulder.  And it hurt like madness.  And it wouldn't go away.  (And neck pain is one of those "don't mess with this" pains.)  So it was off to the ER with me.

Well, after paperwork and poking and prodding, the doctor determined that I have myofascial pain (basically a massive muscle spasm that creates a tender point and can act as a trigger point sending shooting pain).  His suggestion was to inject lidocaine into the muscle.  And let me tell you, the injections hurt even more.  But my neck was numb for several hours, and I'm able to move much more easily.  But now, many hours later, the lidocaine is wearing off and even the skin over the muscle is sensitive.

I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow (which will require me to miss half of one of my linguistics classes, which doesn't make me happy) and we'll see what happens from that.

World Teacher's Day

"5 October is a day to celebrate teachers and the central role they play in guiding children, youths & adults through the life-long learning process."  Teachers have played a huge role in my life, for the past twenty years.

Marilee Ragland, my 2nd grade teacher-- I remember doing more art in her class than math or reading, but I loved it.  We worked with clay... (I made a turtle)... we drew upside-down... made hats for Easter that had rabbit ears...

Ms. Welte, my 3rd grade teacher-- I started wanting to become a teacher because of Mrs. Welte.  I remember measuring out the size of whales on the basketball court.

Kasey Jonesrebandt, my junior high choir teacher-- I loved Mrs. J!  She gave me a lot of responsibility and helped me reach my potential as a leader in the classroom.

Margaret Higashida, my junior high computer science teacher-- She really let me be creative, which is something I really needed in junior high.

David Thuleen, my high school physics teacher-- His classes were so fun!  We got to drop things and throw things and build things, and everything involved stick figures.

Mr. Raymond, my senior English teacher-- I really learned how to write well in this class.   I owe him a lot.

Kelley Bell, my high school choir teacher-- I loved Mrs. Bell, too!  Again, I was really given responsibility and so many opportunities!

And many of my professors in college: 

Matthew Estes, history-- I learned to appreciate history, even if I still don't like it.

Jocelyn Ahlers, linguistics-- The professor who introduced me to my passion: linguistics!  This professor continues to inspire me and has really been there for me.

Jule Gomez de Garcia, linguistics-- Another ling professor, this one has gotten me into a fieldwork project and let me adopt it as my own.

So thank you to all of these teachers and all they have done for me!

Banned Books Week

Well, one of my favourite weeks of the year comes to an end today: Banned Books Week.  The week that spreads awareness about banned and challenged books, censorship, and the first amendment.

I, personally, am highly opposed to censorship.  To quote Voltaire, "I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it."  While I personally may not like the message of some books, first of all, it's all data:  Not only is there a message in the text, but there's also information to be gained about myself and why I didn't like the book.  And secondly, who am I to say what another should be able to read or think?

So here is a list of banned or challenged books and authors that I have read.  Many books on this list are ones that I love greatly, and have really impacted who I am.  Others I did not like, but I did read them, and they still have become a part of who I am:

Lord of the Flies, William Golding

1984, George Orwell -- Anyone else see the irony of having this book on the list?  Oh, yes.  Let's ban books that talk about censorship and the destruction of the freedom of thought.

Of Mice and Men, John Steinbeck

The Sun Also Rises, Ernest Hemingway

The Lord of the Rings, JRR Tolkien

Scary Stories (Series), Alvin Schwartz.

Bridge to Terabithia, Katherine Paterson -- One of my favourite books ever.  Beautiful touching story.

The Giver & other works, Lois Lowry -- Another favourite book.  Fantastically written.  A thought experiment about what happens if we give up our liberties.

Alice (Series), Phyllis Reynolds Naylor

The Great Gilly Hopkins, Katherine Paterson

The Witches, James and the Giant Peach, & others,  Roald Dahl -- His works were some of my favourites when I was in elementary school, and I still love them.

A Wrinkle in Time & other works, Madeline L'Engle -- Fantastic book  By a fantastic author who is greatly missed.

Blubber & Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret, as well as others, Judy Blume

The Bluest Eye, Toni Morrison

Flowers for Algernon, Daniel Keyes

Harry Potter (Series), J. K. Rowling -- Every time I read these I am impressed by the complexity of the plot and the genius of the work.

A Light in the Attic & other works, Shel Silverstein -- Fantastic & creative.  Yes, Shel Silverstein didn't like kids, but his books were clever and witty.

The Face on the Milk Carton, Caroline B. Cooney

The Dead Zone, Stephen King

The Adventures of Tome Sawyer, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, & others, Mark Twain

Don't You Dare Read This, Mrs. Dunphrey, Margaret Peterson Haddix

The DaVinci Code, Dan Brown

Fahrenheit 451, Ray Bradbury -- Again, anyone see the irony here?  Ban a book that shows what could happen in a society where books are banned.

Junie B. Jones and Some Sneaky, Peeky Spying, Barbara Park

The Golden Compass, Philip Pullman

Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West & others, I'm sure, Gregory Maguire

Twilight Series, Stephenie Meyer

Canterbury Tales, Chaucer

The Arabian Nights, Sir Richard Burton

The Bible

Many works by William Shakespeare

Grimm's Fairy Tales, The Grimm Brothers

The Diary of Anne Frank, Anne Frank

Lysistrata, Aristophanes

How to Eat Fried Worms, Thomas Rockwell

The works of Lewis Carrol

Limited Time Only: Pay More, Get LESS!!!

Today is Friday, but it's not just any Friday... it's Admin Furlough Friday (henceforth called AFF)!  This means that all (or almost all) of the administration at Cal Furlough State San Marcos was not at work.  Nor are they allowed to answer their phones or emails.  The campus was dead.

Oh, except for a few dozen credential program students who showed up for a professional development seminar.  It is mandatory that we attend three such seminars this semester, and as the majority of them are scheduled right on top of classes we must also attend, this was one of the few my cohort could go to.

Guess how many of us showed up?  Two.  Yup.  Me and one other.

But it gets WAY better.

I arrived at 16:15 (for a seminar that was scheduled to start at 16:30).  There were maybe ten people total in the room at 16:30, but no presenters.   And the room is really warm because they don't run the air conditioner on AFF's.  So we wait... and wait... and wait... until one girl mentions that she got an email telling her the room had been changed.  Huh... funny... none of us got such an email.  So said student goes across campus to check in the other building.  Yup.  Sure enough, the meeting had been moved.  Now that we were all a half hour late, we trekked across campus (well, most of them trekked.  I drove.  Perk of "cripple parking" is parking close.  Oh, and calling it "cripple parking" totally tickled my classmate).

So we get to the other building and: It's locked.  Apparently they don't unlock doors on AFF.  We did eventually get into the building to find out that they also don't run the lights in some buildings on AFF.  So the seminar was held in the hallway.  Yippie.  (And it was dull as dirt, thanks for asking.  I love repeating things I've already learnt or consider common sense for the fifty-thousandth time.  However, I did get a few more rows knitted on both the Hufflepuff scarf  I'm knitting for my smallish sister and a few on my hedgerow mitts.  And my classmate was entertained by my sarcastic running commentary.)

I was rather miffed.

Well, anyway, I ought to get some homework done--I have one hour before meeting husband, smallish sister, and ballroom dancing friends for dinner.  Off to do linguistics!  Yay, linguistics!  Something happy after such a dumb seminar.

Oh, and happy National Sarcastic Awareness Month.  This is a good time to make you aware that I am sarcastic.  And most of the post above is sarcastic.  And I'm sorry if I'm rambling... blame my painkillers.

Tradition...

'Tis customary, I suppose, to initiate a new blog with a description of why one is blogging.

So behold, here I am.  I have registered to my name at this moment over a dozen blogs.  So why do I need another, you ask?  I'm actually consolidating.  I'm joining my two presently active blogs here.  So while this is actually my first post here, there will be many posts dated older than this one as I transfer them over from my other blogs.

This blog may contain anything from school to medical stuff to knitting to whatever else strikes my fancy.  So here we are.  Yay for us.  (Oh, and happy National Sarcastic Awareness Month.)

Terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day(s)

I’ve had a really rough couple of days…

It all goes back to Friday’s rheumy appointment, I suppose.  My system isn’t sure what to do with the sudden changes in medications.  I’m no longer on Cymbalta, which might be making a difference, as well as the fact that the new stuff I’m on (Tylenol w/codeine & Skelaxin) is strong and the side effects all warn about drowsiness and all that fun stuff.

(I’m rambling and ranting and I’m sorry.)

Monday was alright.  Long and draining, but alright.

Tuesday was mean and nasty.  I didn’t get enough sleep the night before, which doesn’t help anything.  My first class is in a room with 48 (I think) desks in it.  The prof thinks that there used to be a sign over the door that said the capacity was 30.  The table at which I sit is off to the side by the door, but it’s so crammed that there’s no room for my rollator near me.  And everyone has to trip over me and my stuff on their way in and out.  And I end up running into things– desks, chairs, doors, walls… (which adds to the pain)…

I then had an hour long break, during which I trekked to another building for a club meeting, which went fine, I guess.  (But once again, it’s a Normie world… sigh… I don’t want to get into this right now, but it sufficeth me to say that Normies generally only see things from the Normie perspective.)  Oh, and at this meeting I had to sit in the chairs with which the room was furnished, which caused more pain…

Then off to my second class.  In lots of pain, so it’s time for the new, stronger, brain foggier painkillers.  Which meant that of course, I couldn’t think of the words I wanted to coherently answer the professor’s question, even though I knew the answer.  It’s beyond frustrating to not be able to articulate what I know. 

And then, of course, more tripping over and running into things getting in and out of class.  And nearly falling over when I ran into the door frame.

Yeah, by this time I was in true tears.  (My apologies to my professor, in front of whom I have cried multiple times…)  And of course, I had left my laptop adapter at home, so I had to drive back home to get it (instead of doing the reading for my third class of the day).

Of course, I probably would have had time to do the reading after picking up my charger, but I was so unhappy and upset that I made a detour at my LYS (local yarn store, for all you muggles/non-knitters out there) to buy yarn and a circular needle to make scarves.  (Hogwarts house scarves, mind.  A Hufflepuff for my smallish sister, Ravenclaw for me.  And when those are done, I think I’ll make myself a Slytherin as well…)  This brightened my day considerably.  Nothing like new yarn and the prospective of a new project and new, potential-full yarn.

Then off to my last class, where, although I didn’t do the reading, I was able to keep up and answer the questions.  (Except for the in class assignment, about which even the prof wasn’t sure, so I don’t feel bad about that one.)

After that class I went to Panera to meet with some friends to work on the Mayan dictionary.  This went well–we had a lot of fun and learned the names for the parts of the leg.

But I did leave my computer charger there, which contributed to the chaos of today.

Another long day today.  Worked with my second graders this morning.  (And trust me, second grade is NOT NOT NOT for me.)  Then off to class (boring lecture in the library.  I know how to use Boolean operators, thanks, and how to determine if an article is scholarly or not).  Then off to my other class, where I realized I had no charger (but had NO idea where my charger was…).  Which meant, naturally, that my laptop DIED in class, making me unable to do the quick-write or take notes.

Then there was an arts event–Native American art, ethnobotany, and culture.  I only stayed for the 1st half– too much sitting, and homework waiting.

Got home and could not find my charger anywhere.  Burst into tears again (after crying Tuesday night as well).  Ended up calling around and finding it, but now it is 22:15 and I still have two homework assignments to do for tomorrow…

Blah.  It’s a good thing I love linguistics (both of the assignments are for ling classes) or I’d say forget it.

Tomorrow had better be better than Tuesday.  I don’t think I can handle any more hard days this week… I’m liable to become a turtle– crawl into the shell of my bed and never come out ever again.

(Originally published on another of my blogs: http://ruminarispoonie.wordpress.com)

Off to see the Wizard...

…wherein the Wizard is my rheumetologist.  If I only had working joints…  Anyway.  I went down to see my rheumy today.  He is pleased at my current state in comparison to where I was last year.  I suppose that is true–I have less pain in the everything, but I’m still in significant amounts of pain in my back, and pain in my hips, knees, and hands.  He’s also pleased that I’m still very active, or basically that I haven’t gone into hiding because of the pain.  (Yeah, no, that’s not an option for me.  I’m taking 19 units, working with my 2nd graders 2-3 half days a week, working on the Mayan dictionary project, and will soon be my professor’s research assistant.)  What I do need is pain management so that I can keep doing all of these things!

So we have totally switched up my medications.

Still on:
Lidoderm patches
Ambien
Voltaren Gel

Now on:
Tylenol with Codeine
Skelaxin
Savella

No longer on:
Flexeril
Tramadol
Cymbalta

I still don’t think my rheumy understands that even though I am still doing all the things I’m doing, I’m still in pain.  But I don’t want to go on and on with this.

So after my appointment I raced over to the elementary school for an afternoon with my second graders.  A long, draining afternoon with my second graders.  Second grade isn’t for me.  Fourth grade and fifth grade, yes.  Second, no thank you.

And now I’m sitting on my couch, blogging, reading blogs, watching Disney channel, and knitting my mitts.  NOT reading Guns, Germs, and Steel, not sending out mass emails I ought to, not painting the shirt I promised to have done early summer, etc., etc.

I’m going out to visit my mother tomorrow (my laundry needs to be done) and really ought to get caught up on reading.  Blah.  (Confession: I don’t do assigned reading from textbooks.  I will read all the articles and websites you want.  But I don’t read out of textbooks.  I haven’t.  Since fifth grade, I have not read textbooks.  I remember it well…)  And get some assignments started…

Well this blog is chaotic, fragmented, and practically incoherent.  I’m going to log off now.

(Originally posted on another of my blogs: http://ruminarispoonie.wordpress.com)

Can You See Me Now?

This week is very important–it’s National Invisible Chronic Illness Awareness Week.  Nearly half of all Americans have a chronic condition.  And I am among them.  I live my life with chronic pain that no one can see, except on days when I use crutches or my rollator.  But people still look at me, wondering why I need these devices.  Many people assume I’ve been in a car accident or had some other injury, but I haven’t.  Something else is going on with my body.  Right now they call it fibromyalgia, but I’m not sold on that diagnosis.  And right now, none of my treatments are helping.

While this week is about invisible illnesses, I would like to focus this post on having a visible illness (because of mobility aids) and yet being invisible.

I was at a meeting for the student chapter of my local teachers’ association, and we had been moving around doing a get-to-know-you activity and on my way back to my chair, I fell.  Completely.  Me, hands and knees, on the ground, because gravity decided to affect me extra strongly at that moment.

And the only person who asked (eventually) if I was ok was the boy I had walked in with who shares a class with me.  No one else.  No one offered a hand up, asked if I was alright, nothing.  What’s more, when they noticed that I had fallen, they looked away.  Maybe they didn’t want to be the first one to offer help.  Maybe they didn’t want to call attention to my disability and my fall.  Maybe they were embarrassed by me.  But I was there, on the floor, invisible to the two dozen other people in the small room.  (Two dozen future teachers, which concerns me.)

So, in a way, every person with a disability is invisible, whether their disability is completely invisible and they are discriminated because they don’t look sick, or because their disability is visible, and the world doesn’t know to react to such a difference.

So, can you see me now?

(Originally posted on another of my blogs: http://ruminarispoonie.wordpress.com)

I'd rather be knitting...

I don’t know which is worse– the fact that I’d rather be knitting than doing my homework, or the fact that I’m blogging about how I’d rather be knitting than doing my homework.  (Hmmm… definitely the blogging…)

Let’s think, though.  A hundred fifty pages of Guns, Germs, and Steel and The Ebonics Nation or happily knit-purl-ing away to a happy movie.  This doesn’t seem like a complicated question in terms of what would make me happy now, but as for how happy I will be at 11:30 as I’m skimming the books trying to invent something for my mandatory online posting… not so much.  Sigh…

But I’m very happy with my Hedgerow Mitts at the moment.  I’ve finished the cuff and have started on the arm and you can see the subtle pattern coming through.  My hands aren’t too happy, though.  I knitted for two hours today while in church, and I think I may have reached their limit.  (Insert more sighing.)

May I mention how frustrating it is to have my life controlled by Pain?  I’m tired of “being told what to do” with no way to disobey orders.  It seems like a loss of liberty.  I am a prisoner in this body.

(Originally posted on another of my blogs: http://ruminarispoonie.wordpress.com)

Knitting makes the world go round…

And when you drop a stitch, the whole world comes to a screeching halt.

I was working on my Hedgerow Mitts today and dropped a stitch.  Sigh… ok… no biggie.  I pause the movie I’m watching so that I can concentrate.  I’m still a knovice knitter, so I do need to concentrate when I drop a stitch.  Well, I get it almost fixed, and then I realize that it has actually dropped stitches several rows down and next to that stitch.  AAAAHHH!  Of course, at that very moment, my hubby gets home and comes in to greet me enthusiastically and tickle my toes.  NOT HELPFUL! (Sweet, but not helpful.)

It took me and my crochet hook several minutes to get all the stitches the way they needed to be, but they did come out the right way.  I think.  We’ll see if I goofed up the pattern.

My husband then came up to see what I was doing and asked why I was making fingerless gloves.  I explained to him that in class, my hands get cold, but I still need to have my fingers free to use the touch mouse pad.  His response “so why don’t you just cut the fingers off a pair of gloves?”  “Because the ends would fray.”  “You can buy gloves without fingers.”  “It’s more fun to knit them, Muggle.” (Muggle: some one who doesn’t understand the magic of knitting.)  He laughed, rolled his eyes, and went to go play video games.  That’s fine.  I don’t understand why he would want to play video games; he doesn’t understand why I would want to knit.  S’all good.

(Originally posted on another of my blogs: http://ruminarispoonie.wordpress.com)

A difficult topic to breach…

Today is World Suicide Awareness Day.  Now I don’t know about you, but I’ve generally found that the topic of suicide is one that is danced around, and talked about more in hushed voices than normal ones.  But it’s the topic of my post today.  And here’s why:

The leading cause of death from fibromyalgia is suicide.

This is not because fibromyalgia patients are depressed (even though chronic pain does frequently cause depression), but because their symptoms are inadequately managed.  The pain is so bad and so constant that death is preferable.

NOW, while I have never really considered suicide myself, I do have a confession to make.  A few days ago I was in a lot of pain and had been lying awake for hours.  I had gone to bed at eleven thirty and was still awake at four in the morning.  I seriously considered getting up to take more painkillers.  “If two make me drowsy, how many will it take for me to fall asleep?”  Please don’t lecture me; I know how dangerous that is, and what a slippery slope it can be.  Immediately after that thought, I stopped myself firmly.  I don’t want to start abusing painkillers, or using them to escape my problems.  I don’t want to be the victim of an accidental overdose, or even make some mental connection that taking painkillers to fall asleep is an acceptable thing.

It may also be said here, though, that I come from a family history of depression.  My grandmother attempted suicide, and, when I was around three or four, my mother seriously began considering and planning a suicide attempt.  I don’t know what I would have done without these two wonderful women.  I am constantly amazed by their strength, to keep living even when they felt so strongly that they didn’t want to.

(Originally posted on another of my blogs: http://ruminarispoonie.wordpress.com)

30 Things You May Not Know About My Invisible Illness

1. The illness I live with is:
Arthritis, chronic tendinitis caused by hypermobility, and fibromyalgia

2. I was diagnosed with it in the year:
2009

3. But I had symptoms since:
2001

4. The biggest adjustment I’ve had to make is:
Asking for help.

5. Most people assume:
I wouldn’t presume to know what others assume.

6. The hardest part about mornings are:
Waking up and getting out of bed.

7. My favorite medical TV show is:
House, not that it’s accurate, but it’s amusing.

8. A gadget I couldn’t live without is:
My laptop.

9. The hardest part about nights are:
The insomnia…  The lying awake begging to fall asleep.

10. Each day I take __ pills & vitamins.
Somewhere between 1 and 12 or so.

11. Regarding alternative treatments I:
Love my chiropractor, but wish he was covered by my insurance.

12. If I had to choose between an invisible illness or visible I would choose:
I don’t have to choose.  Some days I am visible (crutches/rollator) and some days I am invisible.

13. Regarding working and career:
I’m a full time and then some student also doing part-time student teaching and have recently been offered two student research assistant positions!  I’m accepting both and will make it through because school is a physically passive venture, as is being a research assistant.  The student teaching is hard, though, and I wonder how I’ll ever manage to become a full time teacher.

14. People would be surprised to know:
How little I can actually do for myself and my home.

15. The hardest thing to accept about my new reality has been:
All of the changes that I have to make in my life.  That this me is not the same me I was.

16. Something I never thought I could do with my illness that I did was:
Fly to Florida over the summer for a conference.

17. The commercials about my illness:
Are dumb.  A person with true fibromyalgia, even on meds, could not stand all day at a bakery.  Meds do not suddenly make you a typical person.  They just help you (hopefully) manage most of the symptoms most of the time.

18. Something I really miss doing since I was diagnosed is:
Going to any social event, really.  And ballroom dancing…  and sleeping.   I miss sleeping…

19. It was really hard to have to give up:
My hobbies of dancing and playing the piano, as well as cross-stitch…

20. A hobby I have taken up since my diagnosis is:
Knitting.  It keeps my hands busy, and is easier on them than cross-stitch.

21. If I could have one day of feeling normal again I would:
I don’t know, and I don’t really want to think about it, because it would just remind me more of how much I’ve lost.

22. My illness has taught me:
How to ask for help.  that I’m not perfect and don’t have to be.

23. Want to know a secret? One thing people say that gets under my skin is:
When they compare what I’m going through to their badly sprained ankle, etc.  Please don’t think you know what I’m going through.  You don’t.

24. But I love it when people:
Offer to help and do simple things like hold open a door.

25. My favorite motto, scripture, quote that gets me through tough times is:
“The Son of God suffered unto death, not that men might not suffer, but that their sufferings might be like His.”  –George MacDonald.
“And he will take upon him death, that he may loose the bands of death which bind his people; and he will take upon him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infimities.”– Alma 7:12 (from the Book of Mormon)
Christ has felt my pain and my sorrow and knows what I am going through, and he is there for me, to comfort me and lift me up.

26. When someone is diagnosed I’d like to tell them:
You’re not alone.  There is a whole community of individuals with invisible illnesses out there, as well as people who truly love you and care for you.  Even on the days when you feel alone, you’re not, because Christ is still there for you.

27. Something that has surprised me about living with an illness is:
How many other people live with chronic illnesses.  It wasn’t something I was really aware of until I became a person with a chronic illness.

28. The nicest thing someone did for me when I wasn’t feeling well was:
I am so thankful for the women from my church who have brought in meals and cleaned my house for me.

29. I’m involved with Invisible Illness Week because:
The world needs to be aware of how many people suffer in silence.  They need help and understanding.

30. The fact that you read this list makes me feel:
Thankful.  Because maybe now you’re a little more aware, and can be more understanding of others you meet with invisible illnesses.

(Originally published on another of my blogs: http://ruminarispoonie.wordpress.com)

What's in a name?

I’ve written many articles and papers with this title, the best of which was a linguistics paper about American English dialects.  But this post will discuss the name of “linguist.”

I brought this up in my previous post, how I would someday like to attain the title “linguist.”  Well…

Sorry, I’m going to have to back up a bit.  Beginning again.  This was the first week of school.  Monday and Wednesday are dedicated to my education major.  I’m in a second grade classroom in the morning doing student teaching type things.  The afternoon is occupied with first my “Diversity and Descrimination in the United States” course and then “Social Studies Education in Elementary Schools” (Monday) or “Elementary Multilingual Education” (Wednesday).  Tuesday and Thursday are my linguistics days.  I start with “English Grammar and Syntax” (requirement for minor.  a prerequisite my counterparts took years ago), then “Languages in Contact.”  Tuesdays I follow these with “Morphology” and then work with my Mayans on the dictionary.

SO! On Tuesday I was in my English Grammar class and my professor asked a question, probably something about “who likes grammar?”  Now, truthfully, readers, how many of you like grammar?  Well, I raised my hand.  My professor, Prof JA (one of my favourite people, not to mention professor in the world) said “Of course, the linguist does.”

Did you catch that!?  I got called a LINGUIST!  By a linguist, no less, which gives it credibility!
That’s not the only reason I’m excited.  Today the same professor approached me before class and began discussing her current research project with me (about knitting communities) and said that they have a teeny tiny bit of money to hire a student and would I be interested?  YES!  OF COURSE!  So now I have TWO (count them, TWO!) linguistics projects!  I get to work with BOTH of my beloved ling professors (Prof JA and Prof JG) and do what I love!  (The upside of Prof JA’s project, I do also get paid.  Lovely!)

Well, I have to get back to paying attention to class.  More later.  I have much more to say.  But I had to share my excitement!

(Originally published on another of my blogs: http://linguist.tumblr.com)

How are you?: The question everyone asks, and no one wants answered

I’m back to school today, and while this will probably not be the only post for today, this is still something I want to discuss.

How many times in your day do you hear the following conversation, almost word for word:

Hi.
Hi.  How are you?
Fine. You?
Fine.

You rarely ever hear one that goes:

Hi.
Hi.  How are you?
Oh, totally miserable.  I’m in so much pain today, and I forgot my lunch, which means I can’t take my medication, which means that I’m going to start going through withdrawal…

Too much information, right?  No one wants to hear it.  “How are you” is merely an extended greeting.  It’s not really intended to inquire after your well-being.  In fact, if it actually is used to ask about how you’re feeling, the conversation generally goes thusly:

Hi.
Hi.
How are you?
Fine.
No, really.  How are you?

Yup.  It has to be clarified that the asker actually wants you to reply honestly.

So why did I bring this up?  As previously stated, it’s my first day back at school.  At least five times, I have had people pass me saying, “Hey, how are you?” as they keep walking.  They don’t even stick around long enough to hear “fine,” much less a truthful response.

So, dear reader, let this be a bug in your brain.  Think about how often in your day you ask “how are you” or “what’s up” or “how’ve you been” or other such questions.  Are you following custom, or are you truly asking?  Does the answer respond with “fine,” “good,” “well,” or some other programed retort, or does he actually articulate his state of existence?

To close, the following XKCD webcomic was published a while ago, but is exceedingly appropriate:

“But surely I owe you an accurate answer!”

 

(Originally published on another of my blogs: http://ruminarispoonie.wordpress.com)

Background!

I’m a student of linguistics, hoping to one day earn the full title LINGUIST.  At present, I’m part of a team documenting a Mayan language; we’re creating a click-and-hear dictionary online.

Tonight was one of our meetings.  That “our” means me and my Mayans (N, C, & D).  Sometimes we’re joined by a fellow ling-nut, Jax.  Tonight, our Prof JG also joined us.  (Next week our semester starts, at which point it will be the above group and possibly two more, KayL & Elsie.)

Last week, we stumbled across /blue/ in the dictionary.  When I pulled up the entry, my Mayans started talking amongst each other in Spanish (I get about every tenth word) and their Mayan language (which I get about every thirtieth word).  They asked if we could cover “blue” next week.  So today we started covering “blue.”  In actuality, we covered green and red and a bit of blue and black.

But what made it really fun was that Prof JG was there and we covered uvular fricatives and uvular trills.  We had a lot of laughs and it was excellent.

Well, that’s where we are up to this point.  This is going to be my journey through this semester while I take morphology and languages in contact.  It’s also going to track my personal project over the semester…me and my Mayans.

(Originally posted on another of my blogs: http://linguist.tumblr.com)

When it rains it pours…

BAH!  So we’ve recently (like, last two weeks) paid for textbooks, and my new rollator, and more textbooks… and now I have to buy a laptop battery.

Today my laptop says that it is plugged in but not charging.  Of course, my warranty has expired.  I called Dell and they ran me through some things, and they have thus decreed that the battery is dead.

After several screams in frustration and some creative cursing, I called my folks.  My dad and I looked online and found batteries cheaper then Dell wants to sell me, by more than half.  My darling husband didn’t freak about needing a new battery, especially since it’s less than $100.

It’s just not something we need right now.

(Originally posted on another of my blogs: http://ruminarispoonie.wordpress.com)

A long, painful, and tearful day

Today was just “one of those days.”

I stayed over at my parent’s house last night.  My little sis was teaching the kindergarten age Sunday school class, and I was going to go and lend a hand.  But I didn’t sleep well or much last night.  I was totally worn out and hurting from playing with my niece and attending a worship service, but I didn’t sleep more than five or so hours.  Woke up very stiff and hurting.  Helped my sis with squirmy little five-year-olds.  Then went to the worship service.  Then to the woman’s meeting, and the topic made me cry. (Service.  Doing for those who can’t do for themselves.  Like me.)  Oh, and having to tell my diagnoses a dozen more times.  And all the sitting, both for church and the drive from my parents took me up a few more notches on the pain scale.

I came home and took a few minutes and just sobbed.  Sobbed for the things I can no longer do for myself.  Sobbed because I don’t like asking for help, or even needing help.  Sobbed because I’m losing my independence.  Sobbed because I can’t even look after my niece for a few hours, let alone having children of my own.  Sobbed because I purchased a rollator online today, a step I’m not sure I’m emotionally ready for, but desperately need physically for school.  Sobbed because I don’t know if I’ll even be able to finish school, let alone have a career.  Sobbed because my doggie may have to be put down soon.  (I’m even crying as I type this.)  Sobbed because my husband doesn’t attend worship service with me any more.  Sobbed because of the pain I’m in and the lack of relief from painkillers that just make my brain fuzzy.  Sobbed for friends lost.  Sobbed because other friends are going to an amusement park tomorrow and my body won’t let me.  Sobbed because this is not the life I thought I would be living.  Sobbed because of the burden I place on my husband and family.

Now it probably didn’t help that it’s “that time of the month,” that I hadn’t really eaten in hours, that I was exhausted, that I was in pain, that I was medicated, or that I was withdrawing from another medication that I forgot to take with me to my parent’s house last night.

But I’m really ready to curl up in bed, turn on a brainless feelgood movie, and fall asleep.  I’ll face the world tomorrow, but for tonight I’m done.

(P.S.  I would just like to say how dear and kind my husband was to me today.  Not that he isn’t every day, but I needed it even more than usual today.  He supported me getting a rollator even though our finances aren’t fantastic.  He let me cry on his shoulder about my doggie.  And he told me he loved me.  And held me.  I really don’t know what I would do without him.)

(Originally posted on another of my blogs: http://ruminarispoonie.wordpress.com)

Mornings

Originally written for and posted on WeAreFibro.org

“Mornings”

Roll over in bed and look at the clock.
Dang it, I’m late!  Yeah, again, not a shock.

Didn’t sleep well last night.  How many days is this now?
I’m too tired to think, but I’ve got to get up somehow.

Try to get out of bed, tripping on homework as I go.
Of course, it’s not finished, but what else is new, you know?

Get ready for the day, cursing the pain.
Can’t find my shoes; my apartment’s a shame.

Hobble to the car, forgetting half of my stuff.
Off to another day with a brain full of fluff.

(Originally posted on another of my blogs: http://ruminarispoonie.wordpress.com)

It’s a Normie World (pt. 1 of many)

We shan’t debate here how the world was created, but the Normie built it.  (Normie– a person who isn’t a Spoonie.  Simple enough, yes?)  And when the Normie built the world, they did not think about the Spoonie.  Sure, the lovely Americans with Disabilities Act and other such legislation has brought the Spoonie’s needs to THE Normie’s attention, but  A Normie can never understand what it is really like to be a Spoonie until he has been a Spoonie himself.

Are you a Normie who has graced my blog with your presence?  Next time you’re out somewhere, stop thinking about yourself for a moment (everyone does, it’s ok) and think about the place you’re in.  Imagine you rely on a wheelchair.  Or crutches.  That makes you a Spoonie who’s at least lucky enough to get out of the house.  Now–how does your new imaginary mobility aid impact your life?

Let’s look at my outing today, shall we?

Today we (hubby & I) went to the bookstore at my university to buy textbooks.  I praise my university because there are power switches on the majority of the doors, at least the ones to enter buildings.  It doesn’t have them on all the classroom doors, though.  Time to turn on your imagination again.  Let’s pretend that there weren’t power doors.  I am a forearm crutch user.  Doors on college campuses are, in general, heavy.  Now, pushing on a door is easier.  I unlatch it so it’s cracked open, then turn around and back through it, so that my whole body weight is used  to open the door.

Pull doors are much more difficult.  I have to get the door open, wedge it open with my crutch, and then try to keep the door open while both my hands are trying to use my crutches to help me walk through the door.  Not easy.  Not really even possible.  I praise the inventor of the power door.

Now we’re in the bookstore.  I have a lean build, but then add crutches and I need three feet of space to walk through.  Piles of books and boxes in aisles do not help me.  I’m likely enough to fall on my own as it is.  Fork, that’s part of the reason I use the crutches!  Getting my crutches tangled up is frustrating and painful.  And it takes even more effort walking around trying to find a more accessible route.  And a wheelchair would not have fit down the aisle.  Many walkers and rollators would have the same issue.

And with crutches, your hands are occupied.  You can’t carry things, like, say, a stack of textbooks, or a basket, etc.  Crutch users wear backpacks.  They stay out of the way of the crutch and keep the weight balanced.  But stores generally frown upon shoppers putting unpaid merchandise in their backpack.  Yes, I had my husband with me.  In fact,that’s the reason I took my husband with me.

The bookstore list came out this morning.  I raced to the bookstore today partially to get as many books used as possible, and partially to avoid lines.  Part of the reason for using a mobility aid is because I can’t stand for long periods of time.  Standing causes pain and muscle fatigue… standing in line for an hour to pay for books could well mean bed-rest for the rest of the week.

Fellow Spoonies, I’m sure you commiserate, and even have your own horror stories to tell.
Normies, I challenge you to try once in a while to look at the world from a Spoonie point of view.

As you may have noticed, this post says “part 1 of many.”  I plan on writing several other posts to this effect, about grocery shopping, school, the park, the doctor’s office, my apartment complex…

(Originally published on another of my blogs: http://ruminarispoonie.wordpress.com)

Good Day vs. Bad Day

The following are poems (of a sort) that I originally wrote for and posted on wearefibro.org.  The challenge was to create one piece that described a good day with fibromyalgia and one that described a bad day.

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GOOD DAY
Some days I hear the poetry of the flowers.
I see rainbows no one else can see.
Some days I dance with the children.
I sing with the bird’s melodies.
On days when I see the sunshine
breaking through clouds of pain…
These are the days that I cherish,
The days that help me remain.
Some days I laugh with the echoes.
I climb trees and talk with the leaves.
Some days I taste the sweetness of spring.
I let my soul drift along with the breeze.
On days when instead of the thunder,
Music resounds in my ears…
These are the days that I cherish,
The days that I hold through the years.
Some days I dust off my wishes.
I pull down my dreams from the shelf.
Some days I dare to be hopeful
That I will have more days of health.
On days when there’s peace in my spirit
Where turmoil so often resides…
These are the days that I cherish,
The days that I carry inside.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

BAD DAY

I am a shadow.  A ghost.  Hardly a wisp of who I was.  Alone in the darkness of my mind I ponder the past.  My dreams.  My passions.  Slaughtered by a monster.  The Unseen.  This beast that has hold of my life.  The one who fills my days with torture.  With pain.  Each one a struggle to survive.  As tears roll down my cheeks I wonder.  I question.  I beg.  But no one listens.  No one comes.  No one rescues.  Each day I battle.  I struggle.  I fight.  But I’m only farther from winning than where I started.  And I slip farther.  Deeper.  Faster.  Into the darkness of my mind.  Into the clutches of the monster.

(Originally posted on another of my blogs: http://ruminarispoonie.wordpress.com)

What happened to you?!

I’m getting rather tired of this question, having answered it over a dozen times in the past two days.  People are just now noticing that something’s wrong with me because of my crutches.  I’m thinking of making cards that say, “I have taken a vow of silence.  Please visit my blog at http://ruminarispoonie.wordpress.com.”

The short answer that most people get is “arthritis, chronic tendinitis, and fibromyalgia” but I’m thinking of mixing it up with things from this list. If you have other creative ideas, please leave them as comments below.  Or creative responses to “how are you?” or “how are you feeling today?”  Those would be graciously accepted as well.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

On another note, I’m really not satisfied with my current level of pain management.  Halfway through the worship service today, I stepped out to take the max dose of painkillers (tramadol, in case you’re curious).  I was then counting down for four hours to pass so that I could take another dose.  Three hours after that second dose, I was wishing I could take more painkillers, but I only get two doses a day.

I’m also not satisfied with how they bring pain from, oh, say a 7 or 8 to a 5 or 6.  I’d really like it to come down to a 3 or less… is that asking too much?

(Originally posted on another of my blogs: http://ruminarispoonie.wordpress.com)

"Spoonie"

So you’ve read the link to my blog and made the connection between my nom de plume and the first half.  Ruminari  – Ruminari.  We all get that, right?  But then you’ve looked at the second and gone, “What the heck does the spoonie part mean?”

Spoonie.  Noun.  An individual with an invisible medical condition or disability who lives by the Spoon Theory.

The Spoon Theory is a lovely essay written by Christine Miserandino describing her life as an individual with lupus.  The metaphor contained in the story is that, on a typical day, a typical person has an endless supply of “spoons,” which represent the energy and physical ability to do things.  Everything costs spoons–getting out of bed, showering, getting dressed, shopping, cooking, cleaning, going to school, hanging out with friends,…   Sure, a typical person may not have time to do everything, and they may be tired after a really long day, but they are physically capable of doing pretty much anything they wanted.  A person with a disability in contrast has to know how many spoons he or she has and spend them wisely.  Cleaning the house may mean that you won’t be able to do your grocery shopping.   Going to the doctor’s office may mean that you won’t be able to cook dinner tonight.

As a person with a physical disability, each day can be a struggle, and every action is a choice.  Most able-bodied people don’t realise how much extra effort it takes to add one more text book to your bag.  Or everything that’s involved with shaving your legs.  Or making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  And there are some things that you may have to give up “forever,” like scrubbing the floor or going to amusement parks.

When you get up tomorrow, think about how you’re going to spend your spoons, and if you have a spoon to spare, come read The Spoon Theory.

(Originally posted on another of my blogs: http://ruminarispoonie.wordpress.com)

A look into the past...

Greetings.

This website is a new one because, at present, my feelings about my life as a person with a disability are spread across a number of message boards (see the links on the right) and I needed one central location to keep my thoughts.  And here it is!

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I look like a fairly typical individual.  Female, on the tallish side, curly brown hair, hazel eyes…    Get to know me and you’ll find out that my mind is my best feature.  Not to brag (much), but I’m intelligent, witty, and creative.  I’m married to a wonderful man.  I love to sing, read, and daydream.

And I have an invisible physical disability.  The invisible part means that you can’t see it.  Maybe you can see my cane or crutches, but I have no broken limbs, no bandaged wounds.  The physical disability part means that I am in pain, somewhere, almost all the time.

It started back in high school.  I was fifteen years old and had recently gone through a massive growth spurt which changed me from looking like an eleven year old into a curvy young woman.  That growth spurt wreaked havoc on my knees, which didn’t know what to do about getting tall so fast and suddenly having hips.  The doctors diagnosed it as patellofemoral syndrome, gave me knee braces, and sent me to physical therapy.  Now, most people who get patellofemoral syndrome “grow out of it” so to speak and never have problems with it again.  In this instance, I do not like being the exception to the rule.  My knee pain is still present and bothersome.

Then I graduated from high school and started college, and hip pain became my new companion.  I blamed the hip pain on the way I walked, etc., trying to be nice to my knees.  It wasn’t fun, but I dealt with and never went to the doctor about it.

In July of 2008 (about a year ago from this posting), I started having hand pain and back pain in addition to the knee and hip pain.  I would wake up every morning very stiff, and then couldn’t do things I used to because of the pain: Make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  Go grocery shopping.  Play the piano.  Vacuum.  Write.  and many, many more.

I went to my GP and was put through a whole set of tests with poking and bending and blood work and was told that I didn’t have rheumatoid arthritis, and I didn’t have lupus, and I wasn’t anemic, etc., etc., and they suspected that I had fibromyalgia and sent me to a rheumatologist.

Well, dozens of x-rays, many vials of blood, and two hours in an MRI machine later, the rheumatologist suspects that I have general hypermobility syndrome that causes tendonitis in my joints, degenerative disc disease/arthritis in the lumbar region of my spine, and fibromyalgia.  (I’m not completely convinced about these diagnoses… but that’s another post and shall be written another time.)

I have now tried the following pain killers: Vicodin.  Massive doses of Advil.  Mobic.  Ultram/Tramadol.  Lidocaine.  Other NSAIDs.

Plus muscle relaxers, antibiotics, sleeping pills, and Cymbalta.

Tramadol takes the edge off the pain.  Sometimes.  But it’s really not working as well as I want it to.

Cymbalta has just been a mess of side effects.  Weight loss.  Insomnia.

I’m tired of being in pain.  I use crutches most days to get around.  I feel unsteady on my feet.  I have massive spasms in my back that feel like lightning traveling on my spine.  Other muscles spasm randomly.  Or twitch.  I have stiffness in all my joints, and pain in my hips, knees, hands, and back, and occasionally other joints.  I’m not sure I want to know what the medications I’m on are doing to my body.  I’m tired, but the insomnia keeps me from falling asleep and sleeping well.  I’m having to adapt my whole life, including how I do grocery shopping, the way I take classes at school, how I sleep,… all of it.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

Well, now you have heard the very condensed version of my life… or at least the past year.  If I haven’t bored you to tears already, I invite you to join me on my journey as I seek to discover who I am now and how to live the life of a person with a disability.

(Originally published on another of my blogs: http://ruminarispoonie.wordpress.com)