I spent most of last week out with the flu. It's a like like having a fibro flare, only with the added bonus of running a fever. So, for those of you who don't have fibromyalgia but have experienced the flu, you have a small glimpse of what having fibro is like. You know that feeling like you've been run over by a truck and your whole body hurts? Where your head weighs nine hundred pounds and it's impossible to lift it off the pillow? Where just thinking about having to move enough to get up and go to the bathroom is so exhausting that you put it off until you can't possibly put it off any longer?
That, my friend, is what having fibromyalgia is like. Only, unlike the flu, fibromyalgia isn't going to go away after a few days or a week. No, it's set up permanent residence in your body. Granted, for those of us who have managed to find medication or a combination of therapies that helps us keep our pain under control, life isn't like that every day. Thank heavens. Unfortunately, because it's a chronic condition, your body can turn on you at any time and return you to that state for anywhere from a few hours to a few weeks.
It's called a flare and it's pretty much a fact of life for anyone dealing with a chronic condition of any kind. It sucks. Mostly because, for most of us, it seems to hit without rhyme nor reason. Suddenly, it will just be there, out of the blue. It's especially discouraging if you've been having a good streak where your pain levels are under control and you've actually been functioning as a fairly normal human being. Believe me, there is nothing we'd like more than to pretend that this diagnosis was a mistake and that we ARE normal. I'm sure I'm not the only one who thinks that on good days.
The mind. It can be both our biggest defense and our biggest adversary. It can boost us up and keep us going when it feels like there's no way we can go on. Or it can defeat us and tell us that there's no use trying because things are never going to be any better and it's always going to be like this. Much like a race, whether it's a 5k or an ultra marathon, how successful you are in dealing with a chronic condition is mental. There will always be good miles and painful miles, good days and painful ones. The trick is to keep yourself going through the bad ones, the ones where you want to quit, so that you can get to the next good day or good mile.
I guess what I'm saying is that it's easy to get discouraged and frustrated because dealing with a chronic condition isn't what you had planned for this life. But hang tough and stick it out because things will, hopefully, eventually, get better. Me? Just like in a race, I'd much rather be DFL (dead effing last) than DNF (did not finish). So I will keep moving forward, even through the slow and painful times, because if life is a race, I want to at least have started it and given it my all.
When I went out to walk my mile yesterday, I made myself do a total of four miles, because I could. That was one for yesterday and one for each day I missed doing a mile because I was down with the flu. No, it was not the easiest four miles I've ever done. But it was also not the hardest. And I rejoiced in the fact that I could keep moving forward. I'm probably a bit stiffer and achier today than I would have been if I'd done less. But I'm also happier that I pushed myself and did it.
Next Sunday I'll be heading to Huntington Beach to do the Surf City Half Marathon. I'm dedicating those miles to my big sister, who was just diagnosed with ovarian cancer and is currently recovering from surgery she underwent to remove the large ovarian mass and her reproductive organs. In a few weeks, she'll start chemotherapy as a precautionary measure. None of that is or will be easy. But she will keep moving forward and doing what she needs to do to get to the next good day because that's the way she's wired. I can do no less. Love you, sis.
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