Natural Forces are stupid

Ugh whatever is up in the Rocky Mountains right now is seriously sadistic. Nearly everyone I know is having unusual numbers of headaches and those of us who were already living life in the unusual column are clinging to the edge of the ledger by our fingertips praying to gods we don’t even believe in that a Peruvian Green Velvet Tarantula comes along and bites us.

That being said I walked today. I was able to do so because an amazing friend of mine created an amazing device for me.

See, I have some combination of facial neuralgia and parathesia that moves around my head. Some days I can wear glasses and masks and hats just fine. Others I can’t touch behind my left ear. Other days a wind across my face sends me to my knees. Lately I haven’t been able to wear anything behind my ears or touching most of my head for longer than a few minutes without my headache ramping up to GO-LIE-DOWN-NOW proportions.

As we are still amidst a global pandemic and I value my life and the lives of others this means I haven’t been able to go anywhere for very long.

Enter Scott.

Scott is a maker. He is a creator, a daydreamer, an inventor of wonderful things. He fiddles with things to make them better. He is strange and funny and wonderful and when I texted him and told him I needed his help he dropped everything to invent me this:

Why yes, that IS a neck mounted headgear-like device to hold your mask flush to your face without it touching the parts of your head that have inexplicably decided that touching is verra verra bad.

See:

So now even though my body doesn’t like wearing masks and the world is still basically a dangerous petri dish I can now go to the grocery store or for a walk with my husband and dogs without suffering for it.

What is the point of all this rambling?

There are three points actually.

Point one: I am on day three of my exercise for 15-20 minutes every day regardless of how I feel fibromyalgia treatment streak. Yay me! (Y’all are my accountability partners. Don’t you feel lucky?)

Point two: If you see an oddball creative person that thinks differently do walk past them afraid to meet their eyes. Go introduce yourself to them and try to see if your weird meshes with theirs. You never know when you will need a creative fiddler in your life.

Point three: If you are an odd duck, don’t fret. There are those of out here who celebrate and value you precisely because you don’t think like everyone else. If you feel alone now hold on. You will find other oddballs (like I did. I now have a lovely chosen family of tried and true oddballs in my life) to be your true self around but better yet, the older you get the more non-oddballs will see having oddballs in their lives make those lives fuller and more fun. So don’t give up. You are important. You are made of stardust. (Literally. Ok, I know we all are but I like to think we strange ones have just a little extra stardust than everyone else.)

Stay safe lovelies, and be kind to one another.

I think I might be auditioning for a role in the up-and-coming Three Stooges movies, subconsciously at least.

Friday morning it was slick. We had what some would call a “Winter mix” of weather. (That is the “clever” Colorado News Anchor term for the rain/snow/sleet/ice that has a tendency to fall from our otherwise expansive blue skies. )

Friday morning I got the children into the car, managed to scrape the thin layer of icy concrete off the windshield and windows, and carefully drove through the slick streets. I delivered the children to both of their schools on-time and without incident. I got home safely. I got out of the car, walked around the vehicle onto the ice-rink like ground, into the slippery alley, up the fall-on-your-ass driveway, over the face-plant slick steps, and into the back porch all without incident.

I opened the door, put a foot inside my kitchen onto my dry kitchen floor and fell like my comedy career depended on it. My left leg slid out from under me in a banana peel fall kind of way and I twisted my way into the kitchen to land in a semi-split position on the floor, back against the 1950’s replica step-stool.

Everything but my head hurt. My headache considerately went away to allow me to fully recognize the extent of my other injuries. Perhaps regular physical beatings are a possible form of treatment in the future?

The result of my fall was three days of complete stiffness everywhere. I mean everywhere. I walked like a combination of Frankenstein and the ancient homeless lady who pushes her walker/cart down my alley. Despite three volcanic epson salt baths I remained ironing-board stiff. Unlike five year olds, thirty-nine year olds do not bounce.

My Three Stooges audition banana peel fall sprained my left wrist and ankle and wrenched my right knee. The weekend was spent hobbling around like the hunchback of Notre Dame. In truth, the weekend was spent occasionally imitating the hunchback of Notre Dame. I do a passable impression (developed and perfected over time to insure a future ability to embarrass The Teen) and was getting bored with my own physical limitations.

Hunch shoulder, drag foot, swing arm, moan Sanctuary, Sanctuary in a low, dramatic voice.

I got a lot of eye rolling from The Teen. The Teen also didn’t like it when I fell on her in the morning to wake her up, rolling around and singing Judy Garland’s “Get Happy”. (The other option was a spritzer bottle, so I thought I was being kind). Like I said, I was getting bored.

Today I am happy to report I am down to just the sprained ankle and a bit of tenderness in the wrist. My headache is still much better, likely because I am seeing my new specialist tomorrow and it doesn’t want to get caught messing with me while there is a medical professional present. It’s a crafty little bugger.

Managing life with chronic illness requires savvy spoons