Cranky Fibro Girl

Harnessing the healing power of snark

Classified

By Leave a Comment

Ironically, just as I was in the middle of writing yesterday’s post I got a phone call from the nurse. I was really excited to hear what she had to say, which unfortunately turned out to be: a whole lot of nothing.

After an awful lot of hemming and hawing, she told me that my sample had been located, and it had been analyzed, but no one was allowed to know what the report said.

So apparently I was wrong; my poo was not on the run. It was actually in the witness protection program.

Apparently the secrets it contains are so valuable to some (what was the effect of the drug on my illness) and so dangerous to others (actually, dangerous to the same people, as apparently releasing any information about my sample would unblind the study, thus causing the earth to crash into the sun and bringing the end of life as we know it) that it is being highly guarded in a secure, secret location. And I don’t have a high enough security clearance to have any further contact with it.

Well alrighty then. Now I understand how Sydney Bristow felt when the FBI wouldn’t tell her how they were planning on taking down SD-6.

Seriously, I Could Not Make This Stuff Up

By 1 Comment

So I’m two and a half weeks past the end of the kick-ass antibiotics, and I’m happy to say that I am starting to feel like myself again. So much so, in fact, that every day before he goes to work my husband sits me down, looks me in the eye and says,

“Remember. You are still recovering from a serious illness. You are not well. You need to take it easy today.” Otherwise he will come home to discover that I’ve re-shingled the entire roof and added an extra room to the back of our house while he was gone. And I’ll be upset, because I didn’t get around to repaving the driveway as well.

The people in charge of the study still call me once a week as a follow up, and last week I asked them if they had the results from my final stool sample. The nurse said she didn’t have them at that moment, but that she would call me back this week.

So I heard from her on Tuesday, only to learn that, “We’re having some trouble tracking down your sample.”

Apparently my poo is on the lam.

If I had to guess I’d say that it committed an act of violence against Science, and then escaped to some Latin American country which has no extradition treaty with the United States. It is bilingual, after all.

Today

By 1 Comment

Today I am feeling every single moment of the three months I’ve been sick. I think now that the infection is gone and I’m off the medicine, I’m settling into my body and just feeling things out; okay, this is what has happened, and this is where I am right now.

I’ve been taking an inventory: okay, this is how my knees feel; hm, it still hurts to walk and wear shoes; wow, my jaw is tight. It’s almost like I’m getting reacquainted with my body. I have to get to know myself again after all that I went through in the fall.

And if I was tuned in before to people and situations that were not a good match for me, now I am super-sensitive in those areas. I know right away if an opportunity or a relationship is not going to work for me, and I literally cannot rest until I take the action I’m being prodded into by my inner guidance.

Mostly that has meant, once again, learning to be okay with disappointing myself and other people. I’ve had to rearrange some tutoring clients to better accommodate my needs, rather than fitting myself in around their lives. I’ve had to let go of being able to manage our entire household, and instead pick just one thing to do, like keeping the kitchen clean. I’ve had to learn to speak up and say, no thanks-please don’t tell me about the C DIF research you’ve been doing on the Internet, or all the illness horror stories other people are sharing with you, because that makes me feel worse, not better.

Today I’ve had to learn how to be all right with the fact that I feel bad-Just. ‘Cuz. There’s nothing to investigate, and nothing to blame. In my recovery, today is just a day where I don’t feel good. Today the best I can say is that I was here, and I showed up for this day. And eventually, this day will pass.