Well, I Didn’t Know That!

April Sunrise
April Sunrise

You find me, today, still languishing in the confines of a Fibro Flare. My memory isn’t very reliable at the moment, but I think this is the first flare that I have suffered since the onset of the condition in August/September last year. As you may imagine, there is an awful lot that I didn’t know about Fibro Flares, and I don’t wish to contemplate how much more I have still to discover. So, what didn’t I know?

I didn’t know that I could be so fatigued that even thinking would take more effort than it was possible to muster. It takes a huge amount of effort to formulate thoughts or ideas, and, as for actually putting them into words…

I didn’t know that I could be so fatigued that I would feel desperate for Peter or A.N. Other to know instinctively what I wanted to say so as to avoid the need for me to run the equivalent of a marathon by trying to put it into words.

I didn’t know that making my mouth and vocal chords work in harmony to convey my meaning could require so much effort that I would be able to actually feel the energy pouring out of me and leaving a metaphorical mess on the floor.

I didn’t know that I would struggle to say a straightforward sentence because my mind couldn’t keep up with ordinary, everyday things happening around me.

I didn’t know that taking something from the back of a shelf in the fridge would leave me on my knees, unable to close the door of the fridge, because I couldn’t move my arm because I was so utterly exhausted.

I didn’t know that, when I did manage to speak, it would rarely be louder than a hoarse whisper. Neither did I know that just three or four words could rob me of breath for more than a minute.

I didn’t realise how much effort is needed to even listen to another person. If someone says more than a few words, or speaks at the wrong speed, I have no hope of keeping up with them and, because my brain is so ‘foggy’ I can’t even guess what they were talking about.

I didn’t realise that being so worn out would make me so crotchety. It is easy to become sorely frustrated when the person I am speaking to hasn’t anticipated exactly what I wanted to say. Don’t these people understand that they are supposed to know what I am too exhausted to be able to even think? No, they don’t understand – why should they?

I didn’t know that I could be burning hot and sweating profusely, whilst my fingers and toes were frozen to the core. Nor did I know that the situation could change so quickly so that my body was desperately cold and my fingers and toes swollen and sore because they had heated up too quickly.

I didn’t know how desperate I would feel because of my complete lack of energy. I used to think that I knew a bit about being tired. Hah! In the words of a character from one of my all-time favourite TV programmes (Hogan’s Heroes): “I know noth-ing!”


Feeling A Bit Dippy

My Fibro Dip is continuing (hence the title of today’s post) and today it’s making me feel a bit miserable.

I think that sometimes Peter gets a little fed up with having me around feeling tired for much of the time, and who can blame him? Certainly not me. I get fed up with me feeling tired.

Today, for example, I got up at around 07.30 having slept well overnight. However, soon after 08.30 I needed to lie down and sleep. I slept until around 09.45, then promptly fell sound asleep until 11.30. Three hours!

I pottered around doing easy tasks and also ate lunch but I was still tired again before 14.00. That was when the misery hit me. Here I am. Little more than a tired lump. And it really hit me how tedious it is for Peter to have someone around who seems to be always tired. I felt like a drain on him for being so tired, so often. When I mentioned how I was feeling to him he assured me that he’s OK about it. I still felt miserable, although I think it was an actual symptom of the tiredness rather than an emotional reaction to it.

Some time has passed since 14.00 and I have spent it alternately doing tasks and resting – but at least I don’t feel as miserable as I did earlier.

I wonder if other Fibro sufferers feel misery as a symptom, rather than as a reaction, to misery?