Cranky Fibro Girl

Harnessing the healing power of snark

And I Thought I Was Doing So Good

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All this week I have been working so hard to take care of my back-bending at the knees, not lifting anything heavy, going to physical therapy, etc. I was so proud of myself for taking such good care of my body, until I went yesterday and got a massage. As I was happily relaxing away, suddenly the massage therapist piped up to ask, “Why are you wearing a knot in your ass?”

At first I panicked and thought, “Oh no-did I wear strange underwear?!” But then I realized that no, she was just asking how on earth I had managed to acquire a knot in the muscles of my ass.

“It’s a special talent,” I replied.

“Well, then I wanna see you crack some walnuts,” she declared.

Did I mention that she works in my chiropractor’s office, the office where, ever since I limped in bent over at a 90-degree angle and had to crouch on the floor until the doctor could see me, the receptionist now affectionately refers to me as “Gimpy”?

It’s good to be loved.

Help. I’ve Fallen And I Can’t Get Up

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Remember that wonderful commercial from the 80’s?

Remember how we would mock the poor, helpless woman on the floor?

Remember how we become that which we mock? No? Yeah, me neither, until yesterday when I became that woman.

Ten minutes before I was supposed to get on the phone for an important interview regarding the next creative project I’m planning to take on I stood up, my entire lower back seized up, and I was on the kitchen floor. And I couldn’t get up.

I had to crawl on my hands and knees over to the phone to call my husband at work and tell him that, yeah, basically, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.

I had to lie on the kitchen floor to put on my pants. My husband had to put my shoes on for me.

But those of you who know me will not be at all surprised to know that I delayed my husband’s homecoming and my doctor’s appointment in order to give myself enough time to complete my phone interview, because DAMMIT, I AM GONNA ACE THIS THING!

The interview did go really well, and I passed with flying colors. Apparently the extra added challenge of having to find a way to support my own body weight that involved neither sitting nor standing for 30 minutes just gave me the extra oomph! I needed to sail right through.

But it is times like these that makes me wonder how I was ever allowed to be the one in charge of, say, a plant, much less my very own, alleged, grown-up self.

Apparently I Rub Off On Those Around Me

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Today I had to go and see my chiropractor, AKA “She Who Healed Me Of Neck Pain”, because my back has been killing me lately.

I explained what was hurting me, got up on the table, and then heard her say something along the lines of “Holy COW!”

“What?”

“Your pants are really crooked. See, here (pushing in on one butt cheek) is the top of one pocket, and here (demonstrating on the other cheek) is the top of the other pocket.”

“Uh, sorry about that. Can you still help me with my back?”

“Yeah, but can you wear some level pants next time? This is really throwing me off.”

One Of The Many Reasons I Have A Coach

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After many years of therapy, and medication, and working on myself, my support team and I have together come to the conclusion that this may be the time when I can gradually begin to get off of my anti-depressants. Yay! So yesterday I had the following conversation with my coach as we worked out a plan to support me during this time.

We discussed the various symptoms I’ve noticed before when changing medications or doses, and came up with a list of things to watch for.

My coach: So on a scale of 1-10, how intense do these symptoms have to get before you either call me or your doctor to get some help with them?

Me: ……..

Me: Um, usually I just wait them out and endure through them until they’re over.

My coach: I know! But we’re not doing it that way this time. That’s the whole point of this scale. This time we’re going to do it gently and easily, so gently as a matter of fact that you might not even notice a damn thing!

Me: Oh.

Me: I can do that?

Why My Gym Is Perfect For Me

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My trainer: “OK, next you’re going to do this back machine.”

Me: “OK.”

My trainer: “So you sit here…”

Me: “Yeah”

My trainer: “…and you hold these handles…”

Me: “Uh huh”

My trainer: “…and make sure that your chest is pressed against this piece here.”

Me: “OK”

My trainer: “And if you’re ovulating, like I think I might be right now…”

Me: with a whiplash-inducing head whip in order to convey the very important message of, WTF?!

My trainer: “…then your nipples WILL hurt.”

Me: “Um..OK, thanks. That’s good to know.”

Pure Evil

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Today at the gym.

My trainer: “OK, now I want you to go down into lunge position. And when you’re down I want you to stay down there and just pulse 20 times.”

Me: “We have a name for these at my house.”

My trainer: “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

Me: “We call these ‘Pure Evil’.”

As I’m getting ready to do the next set I see my trainer walking towards me with a set of free weights in her hands.

Me: “I wonder what’s worse than pure evil?”

My trainer: “Pure evil with weights?”

Attracting Like-Minded Souls

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Image courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net.

“Isn’t ‘hiney’ a fun word?”, my trainer asked me this morning as she ordered me to perform infinity reps of hamstring raises, abductor raises, and straight leg raises, all the while exhorting me to “squish” mine.

That really wasn’t what I had in mind when I dreamed about finding other people who share my love of all things “ass”.

Back In The Saddle Again

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Because I was so sick with pneumonia, I had to stop working out for about two months. Today I went to train upper body, and Friday will be the first day I’ve trained lower body since I got sick.

As we were making the appointment for Friday my trainer said, “When we do lower body I’m gonna be nice to you. I’m gonna give you a break in between exercises.”

“Great!”

“Yeah. After every exercise you’re gonna do some abs. That’ll be your break.”

“Uh,…thank you?”

Thank You

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Thank you so much to everyone who has been checking in with me and making sure that I’m OK.

I am OK. The doctor said it was either a wart or some other benign thing, so except for the soreness from the needles and the scraping, I’m feeling pretty good physically.

Although I do have to wonder-who the hell gets a wart on the top of their head?

I feel like someone who failed out of Wicked Witch Training School.

Wicked Witch Instructor: How many times do I have to tell you? Warts go on the end of your nose, not on the top of your head! No one can see your scary looking wart if it is covered up by your pointy black hat. No broomstick for you!

Parting (Head) Shots

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Good communication between you and your health professional is essential.

(At the dermatologist’s office.)

Nurse: So you’re here because you have something on your head.

Me: Yes.

Nurse: Is it giving you any problems?

Me: No. It’s just WEIRD!

Good communication between you and your spouse is also essential.

(Describing my doctor’s visit to my husband.)

Me: Since we changed insurance, the dermatologist is not covered. So I had to pay for it myself.

My husband: So how much was it?

Me: $212.00

My husband: What?!

Me: It was worth it for the peace of mind.

My husband: Well yeah-it was a PIECE OF YOUR MIND!