THE FIBROMYALGIA SERIES PART F

The Fibro series.

And, golly gee....

we're going to start with the letter "F."

Guess what that stands for??

Frick??

F is for Fibromyalgia that wants to suck the life out of you. It takes a vibrant, thriving person and turns them into something that is unrecognizable. I look in the mirror with wonder and say, "what the hell happened to me?" 

F is for the fog that turns a fairly intelligent person into a lump of jelly. There are times that I actually think an amoeba has a higher IQ than I do.  The fog has me looking for glasses and they're on top of my head. It's scrambling for the keys that are right in my hand. It has me standing in the middle of the grocery store wondering what I was supposed to buy.

F is for the fatigue that isn't relieved by sleep. It's the feeling that roadkill feels better than you do. It's going out to do simple errands and coming home feeling defeated because you haven't expended hardly any energy. 

F is for the fun that we miss. It seems that making plans is a thing of the past. If we do make plans there is always that caveat that "it depends on how the day progresses."  Sometimes I feel like I sit in the shadows because I don't want the focus to be on me. I used to have a lot of fun. Now, I don't.

F is for fat. I don't get as much hard exercise anymore so it's harder to lose weight. Even though I'm not, I feel like a big fat lump. 

F is for frustration. Everything about this illness frustrates me. Every single time I get dismissed by another doctor I get frustrated. When I get the look that tells me the word Fibromyalgia is a garbage can diagnosis, I get frustrated. I get frustrated when I can't think straight and I get frustrated when I don't feel good for days on end. 

F  is for force. There are the days that I finally say "screw it" and force myself to either work out or push myself beyond what my body decides I'm able to do. I do this periodically when I get tired of being tired.

F is for the fetal position that I find myself in after I get finished doing the above. 

F is for fearful. Every time a new symptom rears its ugly head I become fearful. I'm afraid of my own body because I can't trust it anymore.

F is for facade. I do this well because I don't want people to know how bad the pain is or not to appear weak. I hide behind this smiling facade and only those who know me well can see beyond it.

F is for faith. I have faith that it will all work out. It took awhile to get here. I've suffered through the confusion about my path and through the loss of my identity and income. Faith has brought me through so many things in my life and it has never failed me. I just have to search to find it and bring it front and center.

F is for forgiveness. I think that we need to forgive ourselves for being sick. We are so used to having control over our bodies and our lives that it's tough to navigate this thing called chronic illness.

F is for flares. Nuff said.

F can be for so many things,

feeling frail,

feeling feeble

feeling frightened

feeling forgetful

feeling fearful

feeling those fears are frivolous

feeling that finally life will never go forward.

But then,

F can ultimately stand for freedom because we can be free of fear.

F can also stand for fibromyalgia allowing us,in spite of everything, to fly and find ourselves.

What other F-words do you know??

GIVE ME AN F.... OK....ANOTHER F.

Give me a F.

Give me an .....

Oh, what the heck does it spell?

F.

is for the Fatigue that loves to hound my body when I've pushed it too far. It's always present in the morning because I never Feel rested. "F" is also for the Fun I used to have burning the candle at both ends. "F" is also for the Fog that is around whenever I can't remember the reason I walked into the room in the first place. "F" is also for the Frustration that I seem to feel every time I talk to a doctor about Fibromyalgia and they just don't seem to get it.

I.

is for the Irritability I feel when I just constantly feel Icky. "I" is also for the state of Invisibility which is where I live when people and doctors look at you with pure disdain when you say you've been diagnosed with Fibromyalgia. 'I" is also for the use of Imagination when dealing with doctors and trying to get the medications needed to manage this illness. 

B.

is for the Bad days that seem to rear their ugly head just when you thought you were beginning to feel good. It's for feeling Bummed when another flare comes right after the one that left a few days ago. "B" is also for feeling Betrayed and Beaten down by your own body and feeling Baffled when another symptom pops up. 

R.

is for the Ridiculous way that some in the medical community refer to this illness.  It is for the way that most of us have to Re-invent ourselves due to the chaos that Fibromyalgia brings to our lives. It is also for the Realization that there is no cure and this is a life sentence. It is also for the Reminders that you have to leave yourself because you cannot Remember anything. 

O.

is for the Optimism that we cling to especially when pain spirals Out-of-control. It is also for people who are Obtuse and think that pain is a constant in your life by choice and not design. It is also for those Outstanding friends and family to come to your aid and love you no matter what. It's for feeling Obligated to keep going even though every bone in our bodies are crying for us to stop.

M.

is for Medical appointments and having doctors on speed dial. It is for the MRI'S and all the other tests you'll go through until you finally get a diagnosis of Fibromyalgia. It's also for the Money that will fly out the window because all these tests and doctor appointments are very expensive. It's also for the Memory that will also fly out the window and you will be left wondering where your intelligence went. It's also for the Management skills you'll have trying to keep the Myriad of symptoms in check. 

Y.

is for the acceptance and Yielding to the fact that Fibromyalgia is here to stay. It is for feeling Yucky. It's also for the constant Yawning because of the fatigue. It's for the realization that this isn't a day or month thing, this is a Years thing. It's Yearning for a day without pain.

A.

is for the Absence of testing that can lead to a real diagnosis. It is also for the ability to Alleviate some of the severity of the symptoms with medication. It is for standing strong and Adamant that this is real and not in our imagination. It's for feeling Alienated.

L.

is for feeling Limited. It is for feeling Left-out when we have to miss events because of fatigue or pain. It's for feeling Lousy or Lifeless when we lay in bed all day. It's telling ourselves that we are Lazy, Lumpy and Lifeless when a flare comes along and knocks us off our feet.

G.

is for feeling like some of the seven dwarfs especially Grouchy, Gloomy and Grumpy. Yes, I did take license on some of those names! It's for feeling Grateful for the good days that we do have and it's for feeling Guilty when I do take the time to let my body recover in bed. It is also for Grieving for the life that I used to have.

I.

is for the Irritation that I feel when people say that if I'd just move around I'd feel better. Don't they think I'd do that if it worked? It's for feeling Isolated. It's for the Invisible disease because you don't look sick. It's also for the Impatience I have with myself.

A.

is for looking at the bright side because it could Always be worse. It's for being Aggravated and Agitated with ourselves and others. It's for being Absent-minded. It's for the Accusations that we're neurotic when pain and fatigue take over. It's also for being Appreciative friends and family.

I'm sure there are more words......

I can tell you what the F stands for....

But I can't write it on my blog.......

Ha....I know it stands for Fricking Fibromyalgia!!

What does it mean to you?

THE EIGHTEEN WHEELER MANIFESTATION

It's been a month of living extreme heat.

Just when I thought it couldn't get worse,

the monsoon season set in.

It has been a few weeks where the temperature index ranges somewhere between OMG and WTF. Yes, it has been that hot. I wanted a fountain diet coke and the thermometer in the car read 119.  People with Fibromyalgia have an intolerance to either heat or cold. Mine just happens to be heat and I live in the middle of the desert.

Go figure. 

Chronic pain is really a reality all unto itself. Even the simplest of tasks tend not to be simple anymore. Any decisions that are to be made tend to be made from the chronic pain vantage point. We can't make any concrete plans because they may have to be changed due to the levels of pain that we might be experiencing on any given day. 

When the body and the brain talk to each other neurotransmitters are used to communicate. Every little transmitter is balanced by another so we don't look so good on that front. Just another lovely little item that is out of balance with our lovely little syndrome. For instance, when you touch a trigger or tender point on a healthy person they might not have much of a response. Now try that on someone who has Fibromyalgia. I can just see anyone who has it either nodding or smiling because they know just what is going to happen.

Anyway, back to the humidity. I've realized that I have a talent. Did you know that I can feel every little minute rise in barometric pressure? With every little move up the pain steadily gets worse. Plus, the noise from the fourth of July really got to me. 

Really?

Surely, I jest.

Well, let's look at the sudden rise in temperature. We went from about 101 degrees to 117. That in itself is enough to cause one hell of a flare. 

Strike One.

Once we got through with that there is a rise in barometric pressure due to the storm front moving in. 

Strike Two.

So the wind is picking up, the humidity is rising and there could be, "a stray thunderstorm" tomorrow and through the weekend.

Strike Three.

So, as I go down for the count I want to introduce a new symptom.

I call it the Eighteen Wheeler Manifestation.

In other words,

Hit again by the proverbial Mack Truck.

I've been hit so much lately I don't even bother to look for the license plate number.

LAY ME DOWN ON A BED OF ROSES

Ow, Ow, Ow.

A bed of roses sounds good right now.

Not what I got.

Ever since I got the epidural injections I've had a difficult time getting a handle on the pain. It not only didn't help the pain but it actually made the symptoms worse. For some reason the pain is just not going away.


Is it the injections or is it a doozy of a Fibromyalgia flare?
I wish I knew.


I'm trying to continue the movement. I know that it helps but, that too, has been a struggle. I go back to the pain management doctor tomorrow and I'm going to address the increase in pain. It's a delicate balance. I've been on the same level of pain medication for 5 years. I've never increased it because I knew that I'd never be out of pain. All I wanted was to take the edge off and bring the pain to a manageable level. Now, for the first time, I'm finding that what has always worked for me doesn't work anymore. 


I know the medication is monitored and very controlled. I'm a little hesitant to ask for a step up in dosage. I'm hesitant on a couple of levels. First, because of the very nature of the medication, I've never wanted to increase it. Second, I'm afraid that the doctor will refuse my request. It's a real complex situation and I'm not sure about it. I truly do need to get a handle on the pain but do I want to increase this medication? 


I don't know.
Maybe this is just temporary.


I'm hoping this is temporary but, this time, it isn't going away. This definitely comes under the heading of creative management. I'm doing the bath thing, aromatherapy, relaxation exercises and biofeedback. It falls under anything and everything that I can do to tolerate agony. It's amazing how intimate the relationship is between pain and depression. Chronic pain is depressing and there's no way around it. It changes your whole life and your outlook on life. It needs to be strictly monitored otherwise you can find yourself immersing yourself in the isolation and depression. 


It can happen in an instant. 


I have to say that it's a lot easier to be alone in the pain. It gets tiring answering all the questions. Even though it is well meant just hearing "do you need anything" or "can I do anything" all the time just seems to get to me. I know that its crazy to think that way but I can't help it. Maybe it's just my personality that likes to keep in control and those questions bring it home that I'm not. All I know is that I'm not in a healthy state right now. 


Does anyone else retreat in the face of pain?  It's a formidable opponent. You can't see how severe it is. It's very difficult to keep a happy face when the levels get up there. Because it isn't visible it's difficult for people to gauge and sometimes it affects how people view our fight. People cannot understand what's happening on the inside because they'll never see it on the outside. It is truly a constant struggle. 


There's time I think I'm winning and then times I think it is.


Did I just say "winning?"


Oh my...........I'm so not Charlie Sheen.


I really do want a bed of roses.............


I'm so much more Bon Jovi.

CROSS MY HEART? NO.... MY HANDS

Now, I know it's easy to confuse myself.

I just didn't realize that it would be a good thing.

A very good thing.

For some reason the pain that I feel, when the Fibromyalgia really starts to flare, is in my hands. I can tell when it's going to get real bad because I start rubbing the joints at the base of my fingers. 

It starts as a dull ache and then it starts to throb.

I don't know why but it seems like I've been in almost a constant flare for the last few months. I've continued to go on but it it hasn't been easy. The humidity has been up slightly but when I've been this bad before the humidity has usually been higher. I'm not unduly stressed, so what is it?

It couldn't be the exercise could it?

Always before I would have used that as an excuse and opened up the fridge and buried myself in a cheesecake. Then, I'd quit.  Years ago I had a trainer that came to the house and I worked out with him for an hour three times a week. Even after that workout, we'd walk to Wendy's or we went to get cheesecake. It didn't matter because I weighed about 115. I have quit more gym memberships than I can count.

But that was before.

Now, I've made it a part of my life. Believe it or not, I actually enjoy it. Due to a failing thyroid and an autoimmune thyroid issue as well, my cholesterol was hard to control. When all this started going haywire all of a sudden, my weight was hard to manage as well. Throw in some icky medication that causes weight gain and I was a disaster in the making. After a couple of months of going to the gym I got my first set of blood tests. For the first time in a very long time, everything was in the normal range. To say I was beyond elated was an understatement. 

I suddenly got what I refused to believe all along.

Exercise really helps.

So, now I refuse to quit.

Well, back to the hands story. I was reading an article in the Daily Mail.  It seems that crossing your arms confuses your brain and its response to pain. It doesn't take much to confuse my brain anymore but when you cross your arms over your chest, the brain can't figure out where the pain is coming from in your body. 

Amazing, isn't it?

They did testing and found that peoples perception of pain was weaker when their arms were crossed. Part of the testing looked at how the body reacts to the signals of the brain on the right and left side of the body. If you put a glass of water to the right side of the body, most people will reach for it with their right hand. The same is true for the left side. It makes perfect sense to me. I know that the brain maps of the right and left side of your body and external space are linked together. If they are linked together, they are activated together and they react to painful stimuli together.  If you cross your arms over your chest these areas are now longer linked, at least, that's what the researchers found. By crossing your arms the response to sensory stimuli, including pain, is lessened. I think it's a fascinating study and could lead researchers to different therapies that could help chronic pain sufferers.

Now I have a legitimate reason for my brain to be confused.

As if I really needed an excuse................

OPEN MOUTH INSERT FOOT

You'd think I'd learn.

Nope.

I'm going to keep my mouth shut.

When I started feeling like I was strong and then started spouting off about it as well, I set myself up for the Fibromyalgia to make me eat my words. It kind of falls under the category of never say never.

I wasn't disappointed.

Just when I thought that I found a place that the pain couldn't touch, well, it found its way in. It took everything I could do to continue to walk. Not only did it take every bit of concentration and a discipline I didn't know I possessed to continue but I had to wrap my ankles and feet in ace bandages. Everything felt weak and I ended up stopping every five minutes to give myself a break. 

I didn't want to write anything either.

Have you ever had so much that you wanted to say but couldn't find the words? I kept reading some of the comments that I'd gotten from the prior post. Needless to say, I was so unbelievably touched by them. If there's anything that's powerful it has to be the support of the wonderful women that respond to the posts on this blog. Whenever one of us feels like giving up or loses the will to fight, these women are right by your side to extend their hand to pull you back up. When one of us has a triumph or accomplishment they are also there to applaud.

There's power in people and friendship.


So I'm back to looking for that special place where personal power supersedes the pain. I think I've got the discipline down but what I haven't figured out is the hiding. I've got quite a few emails that I've ignored. I just don't have it in me to explain. I feels like it's just too much to put on anyone else. I know that it's just me; I'm very sure others don't feel that way but in hiding I can reclaim my balance and when it's there I will be ready to face the world again.


Why is that?


There is still a small amount of hope as I write this. I need to get out but at least I'm still continuing to move. I'm hoping the weather will break and the fall weather will set in. I do pretty well in the fall and winter. I know that the cold weather really bothers some people with Fibromyalgia but I seem to thrive in it. It's the heat and humidity that does me in......make that heat and/or humidity. Any combination messes me up. Even when the weather is good I still wake up feeling like the Tin Man who hasn't gotten a shot from the oil can.


Creaky joints and aching muscles: such and attractive package, isn't it?


I just think it's so funny (well, not funny) that when I start feeling a little strong, I have to go and open my mouth and announce it. I should have waited and reevaluated myself after a few weeks. This way I wouldn't feel as stupid. It's like praying and asking God for patience. You just don't do that because you've set yourself up for a real doozy of a test.


So it's not as bad as it could be.


It's not as bad as it has been.


But it's still not what it should be.


I don't think I should start singing "Eye of the Tiger" just yet.

WHO AM I AGAIN?

I thought I had it all figured out.

Now, I have to keep asking myself.

Just who am I again?

When the voodoo pain hits all progress that I've made seems to go right out the window. I start doubting myself and my ability to cope with the pain. I crawl right back into the lovely little shell that insulates me from probing questions and comments as to just how bad I'm feeling at that particular moment. I hate answering the questions and when I do make some sort of half-baked comment, I feel like I'm whining.

No sniveling allowed.

I had that sign in my office. I always hated people that came in and you just knew that it was going to be a disaster. I put the sign up (before management made me take it down) to head them off at the pass.

It didn't work for them and it's not working for me.

I'm sniveling.

Or, at least it feels like it.

So, it's back to the same old crap. Why are their such peaks and valleys or is it just me? I was just beginning to feel like my old Type A self and then I got slammed. It's probably because I had a lot to do this week. Then I got an inflamed gum and so it will be a call to the dentist as well.

Geez, let's just pull out that old tiara again!

It's been a real long time since I've had the kind of pain I'm experiencing today. I've started sucking down the pain medication because I just can't fight it. Plus, it's raining so the humidity is off the charts. 

Let's add this up.

Rain.

Humidity.

Trip to the dentist.

Antibiotics.

All this adds up to voodoo pain.

Today, I am going to put the covers over my head.

And I can't find anything to say that will make it all better.

Even poor, sweet baby won't work.

ANALYZE THIS

Do other people also wish they had a real handle on their lives?

Just when I get one hurdle crossed.

Another one pops up.

I've been called tenacious and, so I've heard, it's one of my more "endearing" qualities. It's just that I have an insatiable curiosity and when something doesn't make sense I have to try to put it in some sort of order so that I can process it correctly. The other part of that equation is that when I want something I never give up.

Where is the fine line where tenacity turns into stupidity?

There comes a point of acceptance, I guess. Sometimes there's no way to make sense out of something that will just never make sense. You can't fit the square peg into the round hole and I should just leave it at that.  I used to say, "there's Mr. Right, there's Mr. Right but I want the one in the back that will really screw up my life." I have always tried to change the unchangeable but, then again, I've always tried to fight City Hall too.


I wish I had the recognition between the "able to do" and the "I shouldn't touch this with a ten foot pole." 


I just don't understand why I just can't leave something alone and not try to figure out the why. I guess after almost 60 years, maybe I'm just not able to change the process. Maybe I shouldn't want to. It's like changing the rules in the middle of the game. You just don't do it.


Having chronic pain changes you and it plays with your confidence. I think it's difficult to put up with some of the physical limitations that arise when the flares are out of control. Couple that with the emotional issues that come along with the pain and it can be a real recipe for disaster. 


I don't understand why people walk out of your life without an explanation. It is beyond my ability to process. I know I should just accept it and let it go but my thoughts don't work that way. I have always liked hearing the bad news so that I could deal with it and move on. Without that, I tend to look back and that's not a good thing.


Maybe it's this urge to analyze everything. Well, that's not quite it. I analyze, over-analyze, do a quick once over again and then start the process over again. After that I beat it into the ground, kill it, bury it and then resurrect it to analyze it all over again. Now, if I could just do this before I act, I'd be ahead of the game.


So once again I've thought myself into a nice little flare. I have decided, though, I'm still going to go to the gym and walk through this even though the pain is still there.


Let's add this up.


I've got physical pain.


I've got emotional pain.


I've got enough baggage to take a trip around the world.


I sound like a real peach...................

NOT A HAPPY CAMPER

It's amazing.

Murphy's law is in full force and effect.

Since the wedding I've been unwinding and relaxing. I've been on overdrive emotionally and it's taken it's toll. It was a wonderful day and it's an unbelievable feeling to see your kids so happy and starting their married lives together.

Until.

I saw some of the wedding pictures.

I looked like a fat, stuffed sausage. Now, I know my daughter will look at me with that, "you do not" look but I feel like I looked so icky. So, now I'm back at the gym trying to walk and doing what I can to lose some of this weight. It just doesn't want to come off easily. I just have to figure out how to do this because I can't take the way I look any longer. The pictures took care of that!

Next.

Then it's been a little challenging with the pain. My hands have been really bothering me and the pain hasn't subsided. At night the muscle spasms have also been working overtime. I've been taking my time walking and taking my supplements. Hopefully it will help. I've tried to keep a good mental attitude but I can't seem to shake this snarky persona.

Then.

I woke up the other day and brushed my teeth and my crown cracked. Does it get any better than that? It's not bad enough that I look like a stuffed sausage let's add snaggletooth to the mix. So I go to the dentist and get the lovely needle full of Novocaine. Does anyone else have trouble after they go to the dentist? Plus, the temporary crown isn't the prettiest. Needless to say the flare has increased in intensity due to the trip to the dentist.

I've tried many times to sit in front of the monitor and start to write but I couldn't find the words. Today isn't much better but I feel guilty neglecting my blog. 

I'm tired.

My brain is fried.

I'm frustrated.

Nothing seems to be working right now.

LIVES ENTWINED BY PAIN

We are not bound by the flesh.

We are bound by the heart.

We are also bound by pain.

When my daughter was four we moved into a home by a park. My daughter didn't take well to the move. She kept saying that she wanted to go home. I knew the next few days were going to be rough. There was a ring at the door and when I answered it there was a little girl with blond hair and beautiful blue eyes. She walked in like she owned the house and from that moment on she and my daughter were inseparable. She was opinionated. She was funny. She was tough on the outside to cover a marshmallow on the inside. She was to become my second daughter.

Unfortunately, she was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia about a year ago. 

I got a text yesterday apologizing for being a bad friend and talking about how this disease has broken her spirit. It's hard to fight off the depression that is a by-product of chronic pain. There are days that you feel like you just can't fight one more day. Then you wake up in the morning and start all over again. No matter how many times you do this, you still think that you won't be able to fight. 

Boy, do I understand that one.

The last few days have been real rough. The humidity is up and the pain has been off the charts. I've just put the covers over my head and prayed that it goes away. Well, I've taken my pain medication as well. There is no way that I can be without it. Every key that I press, every move I make hurts. The medication doesn't take it away, it just takes the edge off. Even so, the nights in pain and the legs cramping and spasming screws with your head. It not only screws with it; it makes you feel defeated.

Then, I get a letter requesting my presence at a deposition. The car accident that started all of this is winding down. I guess they are finally ready to take my  formal statement. Should I take a pair of 4 inch heels that I wore prior to the accident and that are now collecting dust in my closet? Should I take the bottles of supplements and medications that I now have to take? Or, maybe I should show up before I take my pain medication. That would be real good for the show. 

I'm not fond of attorney's. Well, let me rephrase that. I'm not fond of stupid attorney's. Mine is very sharp and I respect that however, I've been in the company of some real lulu's. If the opposition has a dumb one I will have to try real hard to hold my tongue. I have a lot of anger that surfaces about this accident. My life would be very different right now if this guy had just been watching where he was going and looking at the road ahead of him.  For one, I'd still be working and the financial havoc that this accident has brought would be non-existent. I hope that this deposition will get rid of some of the anger.  I don't know if it will get rid of all of it.  I still have a life that is forever changed. It's a life that is now  filled with pain. So now I not only have my life to worry about, I have my other daughter's life. It's bad enough that I think about the next twenty-five plus years in pain but my little sweetheart has to think about the next fifty. I don't know how I could take that. 

Apparently, she's not doing too well with it either. 

How do you get to the point of acceptance? 

I really struggle with this concept.

And, I'm not doing well with it.

Neither one of us are.

I DON'T KNOW HOW TO BE SICK

I don't understand.

It falls under the concept

that suffering builds character.

Excuse me.

But I have enough character.

I would make a lousy Buddhist.

I know that everyone has different systems to help them cope with this mysterious disease called Fibromyalgia. The concept of the acceptance of suffering is a basic tenet of Buddhism. Suffering, and to be free from suffering, helps you achieve salvation. There is a cause and there is an end and there is a way to rectify it. The pursuit of pleasure only brings pain because it can never be achieved. It's like having an unquenchable thirst. Truly, there really isn't anything new under the sun.  All religions revolve around the same basic concept. Even societal coping mechanisms, like the concept of the grief cycle and acceptance being the final step to moving on, operate the same way.

Healing begins with the acceptance of pain.

I have found out that I don't know how to be sick. I would have to say that I'm not a "religious" person. A lot of organized religion falls flat with me. I find that they spend more time on the outside than dealing with the inside. I would have to say that I'm more spiritual and I do know that my relationship with God is one of the most important things in my life.

Where I have trouble is dealing with the concept that we need to accept suffering. I have to say that I absolutely do not believe that. We may have to accept our circumstances, we may have to accept that pain will be a part of our lives, we may have to accept a lot of things.

I do not believe that we have to accept suffering.

Suffering is a whole other concept and mindset. Suffering keeps us down and more miserable than we already are in dealing with our everyday symptoms. We have enough trouble dealing with the fallout that chronic illness also brings.

Accept suffering? I don't think so.

I choose to accept pleasure. Not pleasure in how bad I feel but pleasure in life in general. I have a desire to one day be able to move in spite of my pain. I have pain and I don't revel in it or accept it. I hate it and will do anything to eradicate it. Whether it be through water therapy, medication or meditation. It makes no difference to me.

I think we have to have hope. Not hope that the suffering will help me achieve some sort of salvation but hope that one day there will be a cure for a debilitating disease. Suffering is a concept I have a hard time accepting. I do constantly long for this life to be other than it is and I refuse to give up hope that it will be better. 

I can be in pain. 

I can be in excruciating pain but I refuse to suffer. 

I choose to believe that it will pass but I also know that I need to get ready for the next round until there is a cure. I cannot be caught unaware. I need to know my body and it's triggers and all of this is a learning experience. 

I'll admit that sometimes I will try anything to relieve this pain. The last few months have been incredibly, how should I say, challenging. I can't believe how politically correct I am in even saying that word! They have been full of pain filled days and nights. I will use every method that I can to find relief. I don't find a sense of relief when I accept certain conditions or factors in this life. I understand that the mind can do many, many things. It can heal and it can hurt but telling me that a calm, peaceful existence will bring a sense of, shall I say, nirvana......well, for me, it just isn't happening. I can let go of,  "the small stuff". I can even let go of, "the big stuff."  I've let go of a lot of things. I've had to whether it be physical, emotional, spiritual or financial. Yes, I have had to let go of quite a bit.  However:

I will never let go of the fight to get well.

I will never let go of hope that there will one day be a cure.

I will never let go of my "survivor" personality.

I will never calmly sit by and give in to my pain.

I will never let go.

Period.