Category Archives: Just me

Another Fucking Growth Opportunity, Chronic pain, fibromyalgia, Poetry, Spoonie, Spoons

A year fit into me…

Leave a comment

When I was having my first massage in a long while with Abby I has a transformative experience. It was one of those moments when you aren’t sleeping but you aren’t fully engaged with world and you can reach into your mind and really identify the things you NEED to do with your life.

I discovered what 2021 has to be about for me.

I recently has the discussion with my neurologist that he doesn’t know that there is anything more he can do to help me. I have failed all the drugs currently known to treat fibromyalgia.

So in this coming year I need to learn how to live in a body that is years ahead of help from medical science.

So here is my plan:

  • Find the things I can do to help myself. These include:
    • Exercise on the BoxVR every single day regardless of how much it hurts. Even if it’s only for five minutes. All the research says movement helps fibro.
    • Meditate.
    • Stretch every day.
    • Get a massage a week.
    • Lose weight to reduce stress on already stressed joints.
    • Be kind to myself.
    • Blog about your experience regularly.

I also decided to leave the gallery and work on a book of poetry. I want to write about my experience in a way that makes it accessible to those who don’t understand invisible chronic illnesses.

Finally, I need to take the time I need to love my body. I need to find a way to appreciate what it does for me instead of focusing what it does to me.

So it’s a grandiose plan, but I am hopeful it will help.

At this point, I am my only hope.

Haiku Horizons, poem, Poetry, Spoons, The art of pain, Un-Haiku-th

Poetic bliss…

Leave a comment

Poetry and I have a long standing relationship.

When I was a child I spent hours writing poems in journals, sometimes I would even put them to music. Somewhere in my rambling house is a series of journals filled to the brim with the least discerning poetry ever written. Some of it is good, I remember, but most of it is the kind of stuff that makes one think of Sweet Valley High novels.

Then I took a break from poetry. I learned technical wordsmithing and stepped away from the comforting world of creative writing.

Then I discovered Haiku Fridays, right here on this blog, in 2006. I spent a lot of time writing Haiku while my kids played at my feet.

Lately the poetry has been flowing again, demanding attention by waking me up in the middle of the night with fully formed verses demanding a paper and pen.

I’ve given in.

As of the first week of February I am taking a hiatus from the gallery and spending a year collaborating with a sister spoonie on a book of poetry.

To begin the journey I have been honored to have some of my work shared by the Southern Plains Land Trust. You can view it here: https://twitter.com/SouthernPlains/status/1356307578230226944?s=20

You should also keep your eye out for some of those Haiku I was talking up. I created a series of Valentines ecards for a February fundraising campaign.

Stay safe loves.

health, Just me

Taking it a sip at a time…

Leave a comment

You know sucks? Adhesions.

I have them because a rather violent attack of ovarian cysts resulted in a radical hysterectomy in my mid thirties.

I knew removing a few organs would leave some lasting scars but I didn’t know my wiggly and adventurous lower intestines would someday wind themselves around one of those scars causing me to regurgitate food more than I would like.

I thought it was a stomach flu until I spent my first night at the hospital waiting to see if they needed to whisk me into surgery. It wasn’t until that delightful 24 hours of not eating or drinking that I understood several important facts.

A. Intestines move around. Who knew? I mean, my elbow doesn’t just one day decided to wrap itself around my knee so why would I be expected to know the miles of tubing inside me were closer to snakes than pipes?

B. When you have a partial bowel obstruction eating and drinking becomes complicated.

C. The only cure for an obstruction is not eating or drinking much or surgery. (Thereby causing more adhesions for the wriggly intestines to entwine their clever selves around.)

D. I make good soup. Thank the gods.

So. I eat a diet a toddler would envy. Pudding, Jello, cottage cheese, applesauce, soup. Sometimes bread or a cracker or two. When I don’t, when I dare to dream of salad and beef or a crisp apple, I have days of discomfort until I once again provide my body with what amounts to predigested foods.

I could eat a more adult diet if I was able to chew each bite a minimum of 20 times but with atypical facial pain I am unable to manage that for more than a meal every few days.

So I am taking one sip at a time. Possibly forever.

New life goals? Soup’s on the Brain – a cookbook for those who can’t chew.