Updates and such...

So, there are new things and new old things going on in my world. Some I can speak freely about, and some I would love to speak freely about if I felt right about crossing the line between sharing stuff that’s mine and stuff that really belongs to someone else.

I recently quit following a fibromyalgia blog that I had subscribed to. I also removed it on facebook. Initially, I had stumbled across the blog while in the midst of the worst of the worst flares this past year. I remember thinking, “Aha, someone who gets it! There is someone who may be able to give me some coping mechanisms to work with, someone who will understand me!”

Instead, what I realized was that I was constantly inundated with all the negative aspects of fibromyalgia. It became my sole focus in life. I started every day with a status update from her that mentioned her pain or a blog update that showed up on my newsfeed mentioning her pain. My entire world began to revolve around how badly I felt and I couldn’t dig out of the hole. It makes sense, really. If you spend all of your waking hours thinking about pain and being miserable, of course you’re going to be in pain and miserable. Now, she’s gone and I feel better. Wonder if I should tell her all of that?

Over the last few weeks I’ve begun to notice just how much I’ve alienated myself. I’ve been sequestered at home, leaving only to go to work and run an errand here and there. I haven’t talked to the few friends I have in weeks, some for even months.

So, I made the nudge and scheduled some time for me. The plan is to see a movie and have dinner with my lifelong friend Friday night. Saturday I’m getting some salon time and having my hair done. I will also try and spend some time with my mom, maybe take her to run her errands. Saturday night I’m spending much needed quality time with my husband. Sunday is family day. I’m taking my husband and my kiddos and we’re finding something fun to do together.

After being off unpaid all week last week to help my mother out while she was sick, I probably shouldn’t spend the extra little bit to indulge myself and the family. However, in my defense, the bills are paid and there’s food to eat. No one is going to do without.

The “Birth-aversary” is coming up in a few weeks. For those of you unfamiliar with the term, Don and I were married on his birthday. We use the term because it’s so much simpler than saying “Don’s birthday slash our anniversary”.  No plans yet. But, if I had my way I’d just find a quiet corner to snuggle up with him and enjoy his company for a little while. Working opposite schedules wears on me sometimes and I miss him.

I’ve had a lot of disappointments lately.  I lost my little Lola a few weeks ago. She was playing in the yard with the kids and ran out into the street. Thankfully, it was instant and she didn’t suffer. We buried her in the yard underneath a big pine tree. She would have liked that.

People that I felt secure about have made some major life changes that have slightly shaken what I thought I knew about the people in my world. It’s not me being judgmental. Far from it. It’s more like me having trouble absorbing that what I thought “was” really “isn’t”.  You can never really know enough about what someone is thinking or feeling to judge them for their choices. Wish everyone knew that. All you can do is try your best to understand their point of view and be there in whatever way you can.

So, aside from discovering I was a little lonesome for some adult company, I guess I’m actually doing much better. Little by little, I’m slowly crawling out of my hole and looking around to see what I’ve missed.

If you happen to see me give me a wave…

Fibromyalgia Wrote Me A Letter....

I didn't write this, but I could have. I have no idea who wrote it either. It was sent to me in an email by a work friend who, in spite of not having fibromyalgia, is so compassionate and understanding. She read this and immediately thought of me.

I also thought I'd share this little bit for you in case you were confused. You may have noticed on my Facebook page little things about lilacs, mulberries, amethysts, or LMA. It's a pain rating from The Chronicles of Fibromyalgia page. Lilacs are Low pain. Mulberries are Medium pain, Amethyst is Awful pain, and LMA is Leave Me Alone pain.

I promise, this is not turning into a fibromyalgia blog. There are enough of those out there. I'll try this week to work on something new to share. Some fiction maybe. In the meantime, read at your leisure.

Hi....My Name is Fibromyalgia, and I’m an Invisible Chronic Illness.

I am now velcroed to you for life. Others around you can’t see me or hear me, but YOUR body feels me. I can attack you anywhere and anyhow I please. I can cause severe pain or, if I’m in a good mood, I can just cause you to ache all over.

Remember when you and Energy ran around together and had fun? I took Energy from you, and... gave you Exhaustion. Try to have fun now! I also took Good Sleep from you and, in its place, gave you Brain Fog. I can make you tremble internally or make you feel cold or hot when everyone else
feels normal. Oh, yeah, I can make you feel anxious or depressed, too. If you have something planned, or are looking forward to a great day, I can take that away, too. You didn’t ask for me. I chose you for various reasons: That virus you had that you never recovered from, or that car accident, or maybe it was the years of abuse and trauma. Well, anyway, I’m here to stay!

I hear you‘re going to see a doctor who can get rid of me. I’m rolling on the floor, laughing. Just try. You will have to go to many, many doctors until you find one who can help you effectively. You will be put on pain pills, sleeping pills, energy pills, told you are suffering from anxiety or depression, given a TENs unit, get massaged, told if you just sleep and exercise properly I will go away, told to think positively, poked, prodded, and MOST OF ALL, not taken as seriously as you feel when you cry to the doctor how debilitating life is every day.

Your family, friends and coworkers will all listen to you until they just get tired of hearing about how I make you feel, and that I’m a debilitating disease. Some of them will say things like “Oh, you are just having a bad day” or “Well, remember, you can’t do the things you use to do 20 YEARS ago“, not hearing that you said 20 DAYS ago.

Some will just start talking behind your back, while you slowly feel that you are losing your dignity trying to make them understand, especially when you are in the middle of a conversation with a “Normal” person, and can’t remember what you were going to say next!

In closing, (I was hoping that I kept this part a secret), but I guess you already found out...the ONLY place you will get any support and understanding in dealing with me is with Other People With Fibromyalgia.

11 things I want every doctor to know....

There are so many things patients want their doctors to know. Things we never say in the office because there’s never time to get to THOSE complaints. But, in hopes that some freak thing will happen and a doctor will read this, I’m blogging about it today.

1.       Having “MD” behind your name doesn’t make your time more valuable than mine.

A)     I will not wait longer than 30 minutes beyond my appointment time to see the doctor. This includes time in the waiting room and time sitting in the exam room waiting for you to make an appearance. I’ve got things to do too. I’ve taken off work to come see you. I’m losing money. I only make an exception to this rule if you don’t fit what I’m about to describe in “B”.

B)      When I reach the exam room, you’re not going to rush me through like I’m caught up in a cattle call. This is one I WILL call you on. I came prepared, with a list (to help save time), ready to address my issues, and I’m paying you to address those issues with me. So, sit you’re your butt down and give me what I’m paying for.

C)      The cause of “A” and “B” is that you have chosen to consistently overbook. This takes me to an old military saying, “Piss poor planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part.” Plan your day better so you can give your patients the time they need and treat them like they matter. REMEMBER: You’re making a living off me!

2.       I don’t care if you don’t care about me. However, I do care if you treat me like you don’t care about me. I need your undivided attention. If you miss something while I’m telling you what’s going on with me, I could end up seriously ill or dead. I have several health issues, two of which can be life threatening if not treated properly.  So, get out of la-la land and listen up. The life you save could be mine. IT’S PROVEN: PATIENTS LISTEN TO DOCTORS WHO LISTEN TO THEM!

3.       As much as I need you to listen, I also need you to talk to me. Don’t treat me like I’m just fortunate enough to be in the room with you while you’re working. Tell me what you’re thinking and tell me what you think I should be doing. If you’re performing a test, tell me what I should be expecting. I actually had a neurologist come in the room, have me lie down on a table, and without saying a word, began  jabbing needles into my legs and zapping me with what amounted to a mini-taser. Gee, jerk-face, thanks for the warning! When he was done, he just walked out of the room. End of visit.

4.       I need you to think outside the box. Don’t keep running the same tests over and over to get the same results. Look further. What tests fit that you haven’t run? What things have you not considered? It reminds me of an analogy of a toy robot that runs into a wall, backs up, and runs into the same wall again without thinking, “Hey! If I turn around and go another direction I might reach the destination.”

5.       Don’t assume that you know better than me what is normal for my body. I’ve lived with it for 39 years. I know better than anyone what my “normal” is. I’m also smart enough to know that my normal can change. However, there are two kinds of “not normal”. One is expected with aging and one is “there’s a problem here”. I know the difference, you should too. This goes back to #3. Listen up, dude, I’m talkin’ here.

6.       Don’t make promises you might not be able to keep. Give me the statistics. If there’s a chance something won’t work, tell me what that chance is. If you’re just experimenting to see what kind of results you get, tell me that too. I’m a big girl. I can take it. I need honesty, even if it hurts.

7.       Don’t make major medication changes for me without discussing it with the prescriber. This is why we have Primary Care Physicians. It’s called “managed care”. You’ve heard of that, right? It’s where I have a primary doctor to manage my overall medical care… there’s a good reason for it. I once got tied up in this battle between one of my specialists and my primary doctor. They got in a tug of war, with me in the middle, regarding which medications I should be on to manage migraines, fibromyalgia pain, and sleep. They repeatedly changed my meds back and forth before I finally got mad and told them both, “No more changes until you talk to each other and reach an agreement about what medications will work best for me. I am not a guinea pig and I am not a weapon in your battle of wills.” Seriously, am I managing a pre-school playground here?

8.       We have a working relationship. Relationship indicates a give and take. I am not a dollar sign that equals a new pool in your back yard. I am a person who is sick and wants to feel better. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen. I need you to be willing too.

9.       Expounding again on #3. If you have ideas but feel your hands are tied by my insurance company, tell me that! I might know how to help you get around it. I would definitely be willing to do the leg work and find out if anything can be done.

10.   Be compassionate. I know you spend 10-12 hours a day, plus nights, holidays and weekends on call, listening to people complain all the time. I know that sometimes it’s hard not to get wrapped up in it when you listen to negativity all day. But, I still need you.  Honestly, if you’re that jaded and disgusted with what you do for a living, maybe it’s time for a career change. You’re not helping anyone if you’re tuned out and cynical.

11.   Your learning curve didn’t end when you finished medical school. The medical field is constantly and rapidly changing. Diagnostic criteria changes, the areas where testing can reach changes, treatment regimens constantly change. I expect you to be on top of those changes. This goes back to #4. Thinking outside the box.

These all add up to some very basic things; compassion, respect, knowledge, consistency and kindness. It’s not too much to ask. I expect a doctor to have them. When he/she doesn’t, they get a letter from me before my next visit. Then, at the next visit, I ask them, “Can you work with this, or would it be better for me to find a new doctor?”  So far, I've only had one that didn’t appreciate my candor and attempt to work with me—the creepy neurologist I mentioned above.

Miss anything? Anything you think should be added to this list? Any doctors care to leave a rebuttal to any of these? Leave me a comment.

Fibromyalgia

It's almost more trouble than it's worth to type out this little post this morning. I woke up today with pain and numbness in my hands and arms and it won't go away. With the assistance of my blogger app, I'm posting from my phone this morning- - somehow from a supine position in the confines of my bed, while my little Lola sleeps at my side.

Only another person with a pain disorder wouldn't feel shocked at the number of hours a person like myself could sleep and lie in bed. Sure, I try a little yoga when I can. I try to walk when I can. But, despite doing everything the doctor says is necessary for fibromyalgia I still get no relief and continue to get worse.

I wonder then, how "they" can insist this is fibromyalgia.  Wouldn't it be reasonable to think that if it were I would get relief by following the doctor's advice and taking meds as prescribed? 

I find myself discouraged and angry more often than not. It would be so easy to just give up and quit.

I miss my friends. I miss being able to get up and go whenever I want. I miss Friday night football.  I miss my little blog. I'm tired of being stuck at home waiting for a good day.

Skittles

I’ve stopped writing.

I have a new camera and I’m not taking pictures.

I’m not knitting or crocheting.

I don’t leave my room when I’m at home.

I leave my home only to a) go to the doctor, b) go to the grocery store c) go to my mom’s for a bit d) go to work.

I don’t call friends and family.

Cooking has become a chore rather than something I enjoy.

I don’t remember the last time I read a book.

I did the unthinkable Tuesday and went to see a therapist.

I avoid making plans with people.

I’m sitting in bed, legs folded “criss cross applesauce”. I’m ready for sleep, wearing my standard tank top and a little pair of athletic shorts. I love those shorts. The little grey ones, super short, loose fitting and made out of the same fabric as a sweatshirt. You girls know what I’m talking about. You probably have some too, and if you do I know you love them as much as I do.

The evening is winding down, kids are going to bed, Don is in the shower and Lola is trying to nip at my toes because she wants to play.

In my hand rests a daily dose of what I call “Skittles”. Except they’re not little fruity bites of sugar, they’re my meds. Every night before I go to bed there’s a palm full of pills and an injection. Anti-inflammatories,  a little something to help me sleep, a muscle relaxer so I don’t cramp up, three for the diabetes, and a couple more for things I don’t want to talk about.

I’m sitting there looking at my Skittles and thinking about the fact that I finally decided to see a therapist the other day. Of course, she recommends an anti depressant. Suddenly the tears threatened to spill over and I was just….. well….. pissed.

Why was I so darn mad? It was because despite the fortune I spend on prescriptions every month, despite the small pharmacy I ingest every day, I was still sitting there in terrible pain and I already knew the likelihood that I would be awake repeatedly throughout the night, trying to find a position that didn’t hurt.

As I started taking the meds, I came to the one I always hate to take; the frickin’ horse pill that usually manages to stick in my throat and leave me thinking, “How’s that for ‘tasting the rainbow’? Thanks Skittles.” Then I took it and, of course, it stuck.

I gave myself my daily injection, hit a small vein and groaned because I knew that was another bruise to go with the map of little purple islands on my belly. Connect the dots anyone?

At that point I realized Don was getting out of the shower so, I cleaned up my face and adjusted my expression so he wouldn’t see that I’d had a brief breakdown and a small pity party. He has enough to worry about. He doesn’t need to know that I’m falling apart too.

It’s funny to me that he doesn’t notice but, at the same time, it doesn’t hurt my feelings that he doesn’t.  He does so much already that I’ve convinced myself that I’m somehow protecting him by not letting him help me.

He climbed into bed next to me, and in his usual fashion, very slowly attempts to cuddle, making sure he’s not hurting me.

Maybe he knows more than I give him credit for. Maybe he feels as helpless as I do to fix it.

What’s next?

I don’t know. But, it can’t be more of “this”.

For now, I’ll just commit myself to seeing the therapist weekly.

Baby steps.

That’s the best I can come up with.

Hiatus....

I'm taking a break.

Just didn't want you all to think I'd given up on the blog. I'm currently caught up in a huge fibromyalgia flare and I just can't seem to shake it. It's been going strong for about two weeks.

Sitting creates pain. Pain makes it difficult to think. Inability to think is inability to write.

In the meantime, I'll keep jotting down ideas as I can and when I'm able to post again you'll be the first to know.

I do want to share though that I finally got a new camera, so expect to be seeing pics on the blog again. Good pics. Not crappy cell phone pics. This makes me very happy.

I'll catch up soon. I have a date with a muscle relaxer and an anti-infammatory....

I have nothing to say...

I apologized to a friend today. Perhaps I didn’t need to. Perhaps I did.

But, it’s this little act, and my friend’s response to it, that seems to be breaking my silence.

I haven’t blogged this week. Not really anyway. I’m experiencing one of those rare times in my life when I actually feel as though I have nothing to say. What multitude of explanations I could give to this phenomenon…

Anyone ever watch the Muppets? Phenomenon…makes me think of those odd little creatures that sing “Mahna Mahna, Doo Doo Doo Doo-Doo”… “Phenomenon, Doo Doo Doo Doo-Doo”…

Uh, Yeah…back on topic.

*taps fingers* Not blogging, speechless, multitudes of explanation….

My ability to put brain to fingers to keyboard seems to be occluded by stress, frustration, illness and exhaustion. The latter three, I’m sure, are most likely being fueled by the stress.  I spend a majority of my time hobbling around in a fog. I walk into rooms and forget why I’m there.  I begin a task and can’t remember what goal I was seeking to accomplish. I put a package of hot dog buns in the grocery cart, head for the hot dogs, and walk right past them to get my other groceries, while never giving the hot dogs a second thought until I get home and realize I don’t have them.

I’ve fallen three times in the past week – two of them while at work. I’m avoiding stairs and …. stares.

I’m watching the calendar expectantly, as if it will make my neurology appointment come faster.

I’m fielding questions from peers.

Questions asked out of nosiness rather than concern.

I wonder why then, me being aware of their intent, I initially felt as though I must explain when they were brazen enough to inquire. My first impulse was to answer their rudeness with rudeness of my own, “It’s none of your damn business!”

Instead, I just sigh and say, “I’ll be fine.” When most people ask what’s going on with you they really don’t want the answer anyway.

Besides, how do you explain feeling as though your body is turning against you? How do you explain something you don’t understand yourself? Clearly, I haven’t figured this out yet, as those I do try to explain it to just look confused.

My body rebels, and me, who has always been a fighter, can’t do anything but sit here and take it; all the while wishing someone could put all the pieces together and come up with an answer.

Every year there is a new diagnosis, a new autoimmune response, to add to the list of ones I already have, and it seems no one but me sees that there must be some common denominator that isn’t being factored into the equation.  How else do you, over the course of time, find yourself diagnosed with seven different autoimmune disorders?

One or two? Sure, no problem. But seven? Seriously? Seven different, and completely unrelated, disorders that cause my body to turn against itself and attack healthy tissue?

I’m not buying it. Not for a minute.

And I’m mad.

Not just a little mad. I’m really stinking angry.

I’m really stinking angry and I’m too tired to do anything about it. I want to kick something but I’m afraid if I lift my foot off the floor to try it that I’m gonna fall flat on my face. Because now, the newest thing to turn on me is my legs.

There’s nothing so humbling as being angry and not having a way to direct it outward.

I’m stuck.

I have no sense of direction.

I’m angry.

And, for someone who felt they had nothing to say, I think I may have said too much today….

It sucks dried meatloaf...

I don't usually blog on the weekends, so I'll assume ya'll are surprised to see me post today. I'm not quite sure I even have anything interesting to say. But, I'm home alone. Jr. is with his momma for the weekend, J is doing his own thing, and Don is working out of town. That leaves me, Lola and Sky, and they aren't talking to me today either. I've had a shower and brushed my teeth. I don't get it.

I watched Burlesque with my mother last night. The acting isn't really that great but, just the same, it was still a decent movie. Perhaps though, that has more to do with my fascination with burlesque. In another time, and certainly a younger  pre-child birth body, I think I probably would have been a burlesque girl.

The business is still sucking dried meatloaf. (Thanks Tom, for that fantastic description.) Today is one of those days when I'd love to tell Don that I'm sick of it and to go get a reliable job. He's the optimist to my pessimist on this one though, and he's convinced that eventually it will all come together. I've never seen a man work or try harder to take care of a family. Have I mentioned lately how much I love that man? He's the cheese to my macaroni.

Why didn't I blog yesterday? Well, there's another good one that sucks dried meatloaf. I've basically spent the last two days nearly flat on my back. It's hard to explain fibromyalgia to someone who doesn't have it. They look at you and think you don't look sick. They don't see that every nerve and muscle in your body is screaming; that the act of putting one foot in front of the other is just plain agony sometimes, that sitting, laying, or standing, it doesn't matter, it just plain hurts.

Truthfully, I did have a post for yesterday. I had it composed in Word and ready to go. My prompt for the Red Dress Club.  I was working on the last few details and trying to edit it into the 600 word limit, thankful I was almost done because I couldn't stand to sit there much longer, when the power went off. It wasn't saved. No prompt or link for me this week, and now I suddenly remember why it's a good idea to save periodically. But, who the heck expects the power to go off on a beautiful eighty degree day, right? That sucks dried meatloaf too. It was a dang good story. I do have good notes though, so I guess I could always re-type it and post it just because.

For the rest of today I'll be hiding, trying to ignore the fact that the weather is gorgeous and I'd rather be outside, cuddling with my heating pad and a prescription for muscle relaxers.

See ya'll Monday...

My Five Strongest Personality Traits (and how I use them)

I’m gonna do the best I can with this post because I said I would do it today. However, my brain and my body really aren’t on board so I hope this doesn’t come off as disorganized as I feel.  Besides, I’m trying to cram this in during my lunch break so I don’t have to wait until tonight to post it. Good thing I took notes.

I hate days like today – days when fibromyalgia is kicking the crap out of me, days when I’m really stressed and extra tired because I can’t sleep because fibromyalgia is kicking the crap out of me, days when I want to take a particular roofing company, and everything that goes with it, and kick it off the top of the tallest building I can find because the stress annoys my fibromyalgia and gives it room to kick the crap outta me and keep me from sleeping.

Owning a business is not fun, folks. I don’t care who tried to convince you otherwise. They lie. I just keep telling myself we’re only going to be broke for a little while and things will get better. The business will finally start to run without pouring personal funds we don't have into it. That whole think positive BS line only goes so far though when you’re like me and in the habit of arguing with yourself. Somewhere in the corner of my brain there still resides a pessimistic, cynical witch who keeps shouting, “Yeah right!”

So, my five strongest traits and how I use them, both positive and negative. Cynical Witch is strong today so you may hear from her periodically as I compose this.

Ha! You should probably include Cynical Witch as one of your strongest personality traits.

Yeah, whatever. Move over and let me finish.

The traits –

Loyal

Stubborn/determined/strong willed

Honest

Introspective/analytical/thinker

Perhaps now you’re thinking, “That’s only four.”

Pfft…Way to state the obvious there, sunshine.

Shut up.

Well, that’s the best I could come up with before my brain went into lockdown and all cognitive thought process jumped on the nearest bus headed out of town. So, sorry…here’s my four.

Loyal

I really struggle with this one. Often I’m so loyal that I miss the fact that I’m dealing with a loser who doesn’t deserve my loyalty. It’s not as bad now as it used to be.  But, I’m not as naïve as I used to be and I’m not as passive as I used to be. I think the worst I get out of it now is that it encourages people to be overly dependent on me.  Kind of like, “Let’s dump it on Erica. She won’t mind.”

The positive? Most anyone who knows me will tell you how dependable I am. Friends who I’ve parted ways with know that their big secrets are still safe with me. I talk to myself, my dog and my blog more than I talk to live people. My husband runs a close fourth to those other three things.

Since myself isn’t talking to anyone but myself, my dog ain’t talking to anyone but me, I have clear rules of engagement for the blog, and my husband and I are peas in a pod when it comes to secrets, that pretty much insures that your secrets are safe with me. I’m the go to girl for spilling your secrets. I’ve got more dirt on folks than you can shake a stick at and I ain’t telling any of it. But, I’m constantly skipping around in my brain singing, “I know something you don’t know. Neener Neener Neener.”

Ha! For someone you’re trying to keep at bay there sure is a whole lot of cynical on the outside.

Yeah, like I said, shut up.

Stubborn/determined/strong-willed

Now, if I want to talk about the negative aspect of this trait I guess I’ll have to say that it often translates to unyielding, unforgiving, and extreme difficulty admitting when I’m wrong and apologizing for it. It also causes me to lose sight of the bigger picture. I end up concentrating so hard on the end goal that I miss opportunities to compromise in a way that will benefit everyone involved.

How’s that for honesty?

It’s this trait that has made me such a fierce advocate for my children. Trying to navigate the healthcare system and the public school system for children with special needs is extremely frustrating. But, my tenacity has allowed me to ensure that my children received the best care and access to services that were available.  All because I wouldn’t take no for an answer and because I wasn’t content with, “Well, we know there’s something wrong but we don’t know what something is…”

Honest/straightforward

I have been called brutally honest at times. Sometimes I lack the tact to express myself without hurting someone’s feelings. It’s almost like I’m functioning without a filter. That’s where my cynical nature comes in and has been known to alienate people.

You betcha.

Sometimes though, there is that person who looks me in the eye and says, “thank you for telling it like it is.” There’s that one person who will appreciate the fact that exactly where you stand with me is never in question, because I’m gonna tell you. One way or the other it’s going to be thrown out there.  Sometimes, there’s that one person who looks past the harshness of my snarky comment and sees that it’s actually me being funny, rather than mean.

Well, at least you let me have a little fun with the dummies at AT&T this morning. *giggle*

Introspective/analytical/thinker

Oh Lord, can I think something to death!

I’ll think it so hard that I un-think it and have to start all over again.

I’ll think so much on it, afraid of making the wrong decision, that I’ll think myself right into a state of inertia.

It drives my mother nuts. Just ask her. You have any idea how many times that woman has said in exasperation, “What’s there to think about? Will you just do SOMETHING?”

Hang on a sec, I’m thinking. *chuckle*

But, thinking things over works to my advantage too. Do you have any idea how many lives have been spared from my evil scorpio temper because I needed time to think before I said something? Taking a minute to think it over is the reason that a certain ex boyfriend is in jail and I’m not.

I still say you should have let me whack him with that bottle of Bud Light. It’s not like it would have been a waste of perfectly good beer or anything.

One more time….shut up.

Thinking things through is what allows me to be so resourceful when something needs to be done. Out thinking school officials is one of those things.

Remember that time the superintendent asked if you were threatening him and you let me answer for you?  “No sir, threats are for people who don’t know what to do next. Now, are you going to make the arrangements or am I contacting an attorney?”  That was fun… Or, what about….

Seriously, that’s probably enough. I’m sure they get the picture. But yes, that was fun…

I guess for #5 I should mention:

Cynical/sarcastic/dry witted/facetious

If you ask me (they didn’t, you know) they all go hand in hand. But, I’m not going to take the time to explain the positives and negatives about number 5. (Gee, thanks) It’s right here in black and white all over my blog. You know what it does for me. It’s the reason you read the stuff I write. It’s the reason I’ll probably have something snarky to say tomorrow.

Maybe you'll like it. Maybe you'll think it's a crock. If you think it's a crock, do me a favor and relay your thoughts to Cynical. She runs the complaints department.

Christmas, Vegetable Soup, and Grillades

First, let me apologize if this post is disjointed, unclear, or otherwise strange. I'm a little off kilter today. That being said...

So, Christmas has come and gone. Who else is relieved?

Somehow, I managed to complete my insane list of tasks and did not lose my mind in the process. I did, however, send myself into a fibromyalgia flare. This, my friends, is why I’ve been silent. No blogging and no facebook status updates. I just couldn’t manage it. By the time Sunday night rolled around I was barely able to walk and ready to curl up somewhere and have myself a good little cry. Instead, I spent the next two days alternating naps, yoga stretches, heating pads and muscle relaxers.

I say that Christmas has come and gone; however, in my house it really hasn’t. Tomorrow, my brother and his family are coming for the weekend and we will celebrate another Christmas at my mother’s. This means that tomorrow I will be grocery shopping, helping mom with food for Saturday and baking another pecan pie with another batch of whiskey cream sauce.

J’s Christmas was great. Between Don and I, Mom, and bio-dad I believe he got everything he asked for. It’s great that he’s such a cool kid and so easy to please. His list of things he actually wanted (not talking of those random “I wants”) didn’t include anything extravagant.  It was comprised of simple things like a Nerf Blaster, Star Wars action figures and a Paper Jams guitar. The family gift was DJ Hero for the Wii.

I’m currently exploring work from home options to supplement my income. As of now, there are no plans to make this my sole source of income. We just need a little boost.  I’ve found several good options. I’ve even found some where I can get paid to blog. I just don’t think I’m interested in posting website and product reviews to my blog. Freelance writing is another option.  

This evening I plan to finish a dictation test for a company to see if I’m good enough for that. The audio clip they sent is difficult though. Some guy with a British accent that says “uh” and “umm” a lot. He also is fond of mumbling larger words. I had to listen to a portion of the clip 6 times last night before I realized he was saying “paradigm”….ooh…or was he saying “per diem”? Thinking on it, I believe per diem better fits the context. Guess I’ll be listening to that again tonight.

I haven’t been posting recipes because I can’t take photos. It seems my camera has died. L Anyone want to start a “feel sorry for Erica and buy her a good digital camera fund”?  No? Ok…I’ll grab my mason jar and start saving.

In the meantime here’s a couple for you without pictures to back up the yumminess. Sorry.

I made an awesome pot of vegetable beef soup the other night; kind of a cross between my mom’s recipe and pasta fajiole. You will need:

1 lb ground beef

½ small onion diced

2 cloves garlic minced

1 large or two small cans beef broth

½ large can tomato juice

1 can rotel

10 oz frozen mixed vegetables

salt and pepper to taste

8 oz uncooked macaroni or other pasta. Shells would be nice here too.

In a large pot, brown the ground beef. Drain the fat and set the beef aside. Add onions to the pot and sauté until translucent. Add the garlic and saute 2 minutes more. Add the beef back to the pot with the broth, and all the remaining ingredients EXCEPT the macaroni. You get that? Just forget that darn pasta for a minute. :) Bring the mixture to a boil and THEN add the macaroni. When pasta is tender remove from heat, salt and pepper to taste and serve. We had hot ham and cheese sandwiches with ours.  I was happy. Don was happy. Ashes was happy. J ate peanut butter and jelly with the neighbors. Would also be nice with cornbread, garlic bread, or even crackers.

I also made something called grillades (gree-yads). It’s a Cajun beef dish that is traditionally served over grits. It’s good, it’s cheap and it’s a great use for tougher cuts of steak. I pulled this together from a couple of traditional recipes to create my own version. We served over rice simply because I didn’t have any grits. It was really good too. Next time I will be making it with the grits.

You will need:

3 medium sized round steaks cut into 2 inch pieces and pounded flat

½ green bell pepper diced

1 stalk celery diced

½ onion diced

Cajun Seasoning (i.e. Tony Chacherez)

½ c flour

2 T vegetable oil

Salt and pepper

½ t. thyme

1 or two bay leaves

Tony Chacherez brown gravy mix (comes in a big yellow can)

1 large or two small cans beef broth
1 (14 oz) can of tomatoes

Cut round steaks into 2 inch pieces and flatten. (If you don’t have a meat tenderizer then just whack the crud out of it with a rolling pin or the bottom of a pot…Caution: make sure all family members you care for maintain a safe distance. The ones you don’t care for…have at it. I won’t tell)

Add oil to large pot on medium heat and allow it to preheat. Meanwhile, toss the steak pieces into a bowl. In a separate small bowl mix together the flour and Cajun seasoning. I can’t tell you here how much Cajun seasoning. Remember, it’s salty and spicy!  It’s a matter of preference and everyone has a different preference. After flour and seasoning are well mixed, pour it over the steak pieces and toss to coat.

Brown the meat in batches in the hot oil; setting each batch aside as you go. You only need a couple minutes per side. Remember, you’re just browning here. No need to get it done. It will have plenty of time for that later.

Once all the meat has been browned add the diced vegetables and canned tomatoes to the pot and cook just until tender. Add the meat back to the pot along with the seasonings and the beef broth. Bring the mixture to a boil, cover, and reduce heat to simmer. Allow to simmer for approximately 2 hours.

Just before serving remove the bay leaves and bring the heat back up.  Add brown gravy mix, sprinkling a little at a time and stirring constantly, until you reach the desired thickness. *clears voice for Emeril impersonation* Remember, a mixture never achieves its full thickening power until it comes to a boil.

Serve over rice or grits.

I guess I’ve carried on long enough. Hope you enjoy the recipes.

I'm tired

It’s Monday and yet I’m still feeling the wear that my weekend put on me. My body is screaming today. I would kick myself this morning but my legs are begging me not to move them and threatening to revolt if I do.

I’m staring at the Tylenol Arthritis and battling with myself about whether or not to take it. The migraine doctor says to get off over the counter pain meds. Apparently they contribute to headaches? I find this confusing. I want to kick the migraine doctor.  But, again, my legs beg me not to.

I took an entire bathroom apart and put it back together again. I scrubbed the walls and I scrubbed the floors on my hands and knees. I baked cookies. I washed, dried and folded 1,672 loads of laundry. I took my kitchen apart and scrubbed the cabinets and floors. I took everything off of every shelf in the living room and dusted it. I moved every piece of furniture in the living room and vacuumed. I spot cleaned the carpet and then cleaned the carpet machine. I cooked dinner (with photographs) so I would have a recipe to blog this weekend. I washed dishes again. I folded 4 more loads of laundry.

By the time I did all of this I was too exhausted to perform the final touches and put those last few things away. What’s the result? I cleaned and my house looks like a mess.

The shoes are still in the middle of the bedroom floor where I tossed them when I took them out of the living room. My bed isn’t made. I still have 20 loads of unwashed laundry in the laundry room floor because I decided to wash runners that were on shelves and bedding in addition to all the clothes I washed.

I almost washed curtains. But, I told myself to shut up and I listened.

I have dog food and dirt on my freshly scrubbed kitchen floor. Those girls always ruin my clean floors. But, they’re cute. Aren’t they?

I didn’t put the dishes away or wipe off the stove when I cleaned the kitchen after dinner.  There is flour, splattered olive oil, and spinach on my stove from the pasta recipe I made last night.

Now I want to kick myself again because it doesn’t look like I did anything at all. I could’ve been knitting or crocheting and saved myself the trouble. But again, my fibromyalgia plagued body begs me not to kick myself.

I fell into bed at 9:00 last night and immediately fell asleep. I woke up at 5:00 this morning and am so tired that I could easily go back to bed for a few more hours. Sitting here at my desk I could easily close my eyes for just a minute and drift off to sleep.

I hate days like today.

Fibromyalgia

Fibromyalgia – it sucks. Just in case you don’t know what that is, I’ll explain it to you the best I can.

Fibromyalgia is described as a disorder of “chronic widespread pain” that, while sometimes secondary to some other disorder, it most often cannot be attributed to any other disorder or illness.

What does fibromyalgia feel like? Well, your bones and muscles ache all the time. Have you ever had body aches associated with a fever? That’s what it feels like. You can’t alleviate it. You’re just stuck with it and you learn to cope.

I’ve had days when the pain was so bad I didn’t feel like I could get out of bed in the morning. Prior to finding treatment to help me manage the symptoms I would sometimes sleep for days at a time and never feel rested.

Fibromyalgia is known to disrupt sleep patterns. Most people who suffer from fibromyalgia never get that important REM sleep. We wake up in the morning feeling just as tired as we did when we went to bed. The focus of the entire day is just looking forward to the end of the day where much coveted sleep awaits. The morning always comes too soon.

Sleep is very important to successful management of fibromyalgia. The lack of sleep flares the symptoms. The flared symptoms make it difficult to sleep. What you end up with is a vicious cycle of poor sleep and pain. The sleep and pain feed off one another and each causes the opposing symptom to worsen. So, you’re in pain and you’re unbelievably tired and there’s no end in sight.

Today is what I call a “Fibromyalgia Day”. I’m tired. I’m irritable. I hurt. It’s one of those days when I don’t want to be touched. Even a hug hurts. What I want more than anything is to be home where I can take a muscle relaxer, climb into bed and cuddle with my dog.  Oh well.