Fibro Flame Out

blue and yellow flame painting
Photo by Pixabay on

{Typos and non-sequiturs appear in ‘dis post. I don’g want to hear about them. No treats for the typo finders this go round.}

I’m covered in CBD creamed and heavily medicated because I was hurting in four fibro points last night and this morning. It’s up to 12 of 18 as I write this–c’mon drugs!!. Typos and non-sequiturs appear in ‘dis post. Not my usual state for blogging or showing my self in public, but I’m writing in real time because I want to be open about living with fibromyalgia. Our family has so much love and a beautiful existence together but we also live in an unpredictable shit show.

I know many families with young kids feel the same. Add fibro to the mix and you’ve got one perfect-for-me-Husband who now burns the candle at the top, bottom and even the middle. And, a cranky, exhausted mom with a lowered patience threshold; when I became a mom I found patience I never had, but my threshold goes down to the lowest limbo dance setting when I’m in pain or fatigued or both. Fibro, you suck. My mind wanders…

Ack, what the what happened to the mom who hit her head in my beloved Lauren Groff’s recent book of short stories, Florida? Did she make it? Did she not? Am I like her…? Groff’s stories hurt because you want them to magically turn into books. Florida got to the root of my fears of living and parenting with chronic pain…so much for fiction as an escape!

Today is the epitome of living with chronic pain: hiding out at home because you’re too pained, drugged, or can’t handle being out in the deflating Southern heat to be social at kids’ birthday parties, school events, Husband’s work events, social outings, etc.; or sometimes I have to (try to) fake it and then suffer later. I do have days and even weeks where I have fun, but it’s unpredictable. Is fun at 40 overrated?

I keep spacing out, falling half asleep, then waking up to write some more. Junebug is napping sweetly next to me. Prior to the meds starting to work, my brain was going at an intense speed. I called a lawyer about filing for disability; called local pain doctors to see who is prescribing medical marijuana as it just became legal in Louisiana this fall; and completed a few other tasks I’d been avoilding om my to do list. Ha, I see the typos, but c’est la vie…

I’m in a major fibro flare. Not unexpected for the week we’re having, but utterly nauseating all the same.

Junebug, 4, had routine outpatient surgery Wednesday and is recovering verywell. She’ll be back at school early next week. Tuesday I gathered the highest energy I can muster to work through my list of errands to get us surgery ready: liquid and pill forms of acetaminophen and ibuprofen; long extension cord so the Kindle stays charged and we put an end to her “The Kindle is out of power tantrums” once and for all; Honest juice boxes from Costco (physically it’s a very hard store for me to shop so we’re only members cause I’m on my Dad’s membership like a college student instead of a 40-year old mom, but the girls like the juice boxes better than the easier to find Honest pouches, oy vey iz mir); pint of Red Velvet Cake from Creole Creamery; clean sheets at the ready in case of an overnight pull-up leak (Used them today in fact! Yay more laundy and pee that went through the mattress cover to the mattress! Rolls half shut eyes.); boiled eggs for the 3/4 of us who like them as fuel (not Rosebud’s cuppa); healthy meals from The Dancing Buddha already fill our fridge for this unique week but a basics grocery delivery from Whole Foods was necessary as that was one errand too many for me.

Short break to love on our feline who has become much more generous with keeping me company and mrowing for pets now that he’s around middle age. 

I made it through Wednesday, surgery day, tired but with no pain. Junebug was a brave, scared, sweet trooper. She was her funny, quirky, smart, cute, communicative self even during the hardest parts of the day. I made it through her hardest recovery day on Thursday with a heart full of “I love you Mommys” and “Thank you for taking such good care of me.” No pain, fatigue at usual level.

Break to find a “mud cupcake” recipe as Junebug loves to cook and has made this baking request for the weekend. She’s our dirty girl and we relish her for it.

Last night Junebug and Rosebud went to bed surprisingly early but try that I might I couldn’t stop my my rising fibro pain. The adrenaline had worn off, the exhaustion and stress was setting in, and the fibro pain in my brain was off like a shot, to quote a much-read Curious George book. I finally fell asleep while allowing Amazon’s “Jack Ryan” series (very enjoyable, in a broader/network-y way it reminds me of the blow-me-away early seasons of “Homeland”) take me away from regular life and assuming today would be better.

It was not.

I’d cry right now if I could, but my meds cut the amount of crying I’d like to do by ’bout 75%. I’d rather cry and get it out, though this article coaches you how not to cry. Hrrmph: not healthy I say!

I had sitter help today, and also Junebug and I took a three hour nap plus Husband picked Rosebud up from afrercare, so I felt comfortable drugging myself with Neurontin, Klon, my medicinal-smelling creams (fibro means bye-bye vanity, though that really began with childbirth) and CBD tincture, not that anything relieved the pain. I woke up from the nap with pain in all the fibro spots and drugged myself again when Husband came home. I never’t dirive drugged, always cancel if I’d be caring for others’ kids and I’m not well, and rarely parent at home that way, but today was my body’s way of saying ENOUGH. And TGIF!

We recently hired super afternoon help for me, and it gives Jon less to do when he walks in the door from work since I begin my transformation into a pumpkin around 4-5p… We’ve needed but purposefully not hired much help since a very scary sitter sitch occurred in May…she’s long gone, but I still feel up in arms re my kid’s friends’ parents who witnessed the sitter’s poor judgement and didn’t call me immediately to come get my kids :(. If you see say something, say something!

Thank goodness I have a very slow week next week leading up to my pain chasing ketamine infusion on Friday. (More on the highs and lows of ketamine in an upoming post.)

I would do any/everything for my awe-inspiring daughters. Taking care of myself allows me to take better care of them. It’s scary that just a few days of being off my calm-ish routine sent me into the flare of flares. I fear that I’ll have more daily pain and fatigue in the future but feel assured there will be more research and options (THC edibles if I can find a presciber in La.? If you knew me in high school or college, you’re lauging your arse off because I hate “pot” for painfully personal, #metoo reasons.), This week burned me badly, but I’m a spitfire like my sadly departed mom was and my daughters are, and as always, I’ll get back up again. (Yes, “Trolls” allusion…I’m SO a mom…who loves musicals!)

My fibro fire is mostly out and I can fall asleep now,


40 years, 4 months, minus eight days

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