A Change Is As Good…

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Transiting the Kiel Canal. 19 April 2018

FPR and I yesterday returned from a little holiday to the southern Baltic. We were on a cruise with a cruise line that we have travelled with several times. Due to my state of health, amongst other things, we had to change our plans for various parts of the trip. Initially I had been going to drive us to Essex (the ship was departing from Tilbury), parking my car at the new home of my Baby Son and his partner. However it became clear that for me to drive that distance would be very challenging so we decided to travel to Tilbury via public transport. And that’s where the problems began!

Access to the coach which was to take us to London was via a set of very steep steps. I had been finding walking increasingly difficult and labour intensive, during the days leading up to the holiday. Consequently, when I tried to board the coach, I could barely lift my foot off the ground, let alone pull myself up the steps. Eventually, with help, I managed to get up the steps but the incident shocked and disappointed me.

Over the next couple of days I struggled on. I was finding it challenging to walk aboard ship. My balance was shot to pieces, I had quite a bit of pain and I felt as though I had lost the ability to walk properly. It was all rather unnerving.

Last Sunday, FPR and I went ashore to explore the town where the ship had docked. The difficulties with walking still persisted and fatigue was being troublesome. I was resting at one end of the town square when FPR beckoned me. I set off at my snail’s pace but disaster struck. With FPR something like 80 or 100 yards ahead, I tripped and fell, bumping my head in the process. Luckily there were four passengers from our ship who witnessed my fall and rushed over to help, for which I was and am very grateful. I was not badly injured: just an interesting lump on my temple, followed by a bruise featuring some rather exotic colours!

The fall made me realise something very important which is to use a walking stick on days when walking is a problem. Certainly, after that day, if I went ashore at all, I used the walking stick that I had taken on holiday with me and it made walking, and keeping my balance, much easier. I didn’t use the stick on the ship as I seemed to be managing fairl well. However, I did use it whenever I went ashore.

You never know, I may even manage to use the stick now that I am home…

Watch this space.

 

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Perm Any Two From Three

12/12/2017 Premier League Burnley v Stoke City

My Grandchildren’s Favourite Team [Photograph from Burnley Football Club website]

Do you remember the old Football Pools? That desperately important form that had to have crosses marked in an array of tiny boxes, to indicate which matches you thought were going to end in a draw. There was a phrase connected with “the pools” which was along the lines of “Perm any two from three”. I didn’t understand what it meant except that I think it was connected with how many draws one had to predict out of the number of crosses entered.

What has all that to do with Fibro? Well, in my last post I talked about back pain and about which of three things might have been the cause, and now, I think I have it sussed. I have whittled the options down, getting rid of two of them so I quite liked the idea of using that, apparently, redundant phrase.

I am pretty sure that the back pain is attributable to my fall on Christmas Day. Admittedly, the actual pain is different now from how it had been, but no chest infection has developed and I am still fatigued. In fact, it has been a toss-up this week as to whether the fatigue or the back pain have been more of a nuisance. On balance, I think it would have to be fatigue as, when I have had to have a rest due to fatigue, I haven’t done anything for quite some time whilst sitting. Usually, I would do some knitting, sewing or crochet, or surf the net whilst resting, but I have been too exhausted even to do any of those things. When I have had to have a break solely due to back pain, I have usually been able to do something to amuse myself, whilst resting.

Fatigue is definitely having an impact on how I live my life, at the moment. No, let me be honest, it has been having quite an effect for several months. I find that I really cannot be certain that I will be able to fulfil commitments that necessitate a journey away from home. That uncertainty creates in me a degree of anxiety and lack of confidence. I know that family and friends are aware that I have this problem and I think they understand that sometimes I have to cancel at the last minute, but it can’t be much fun for them. I also know that they worry about me, which upsets me. I don’t want to be a worry or burden. I want to be the partner/mother/Nana/friend that they enjoy spending time with, not the one they are worried about. This message is for them:

I am OK. Fibromyalgia is a pain in the bottom. While I do need you to make allowances for the restrictions it sometimes imposes on me, I am OK. I feel rotten for a while, then I start to feel less rotten, or perhaps even quite good, then I get back to feeling [my] normal. Generally I am coping with it. I am finding ways of living with it and altering how I do things. The main thing I am trying to do is live each day as it comes.

 

I Can’t Think Of A Title!

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My first view of the Three Sisters, near Katoomba in the Blue Mountains*, New South Wales

I wrote on here recently about trust and confidence when living with Fibromyalgia. It is a subject which often kicks about in my mind.

I think that, upon meeting me for the first time, most people think that I have oodles of self-confidence. I am aware that I often come across to others as brash and in-your-face. However, that is not confidence. In fact, it is the exact opposite. When I am in a new situation I either go very quiet and melt into the wall, or I take a deep breath, grasp my own lapels (metaphorically speaking) and charge in to the situation, me and my outspoken-ness. Don’t worry, I’m not intending to get all philosophical or psychological about that side of me.

Another thing that I am known for and which is a more accurate insight into my character, is my honesty. By honesty, I mean that if someone requests my opinion, I tend to be honest, rather than saying what the other person is hoping to hear. Obviously, if someone simply needs a bit of a confidence boost, I will give an appropriate. However, I really don’t understand why people ask for someone’s honest opinion when, actually, what they want is for you to puff up their ego with as many lies as you can muster. There are occasions when someone benefits from the honest opinion of another, as I hope the following anecdote shows.

Little Sis and I were shopping in Exeter and were in the Ladies’ department of a well-known department store. There was a lady who was trying on an outfit to wear as Mother of the Bride. The shop assistant who was ‘helping’ her was telling her how lovely the outfit looked and the lady’s husband obviously would have said a purple banana suit was exactly right if it meant he could escape more quickly. Little Sis and I saw this tableau and both agreed that the outfit was, most definitely, not right. The lady, herself, was very hesitant and clearly not convinced about the outfit so I quietly whispered in her ear, apologising for interfering, saying that the outfit wasn’t the right one. She looked relieved and thanked me for my comment.  Later in the day we bumped into the same couple again. The lady’s face was wreathed in smiles as she told us that, since seeing her earlier in the day, she had found and bought the perfect outfit to wear to her daughter’s wedding. We were really pleased for her.

This week someone, whom I know gives honest opinions, was very complimentary about something I had done. Those words meant a huge amount to me, the more so because they were completely unexpected and uncanvassed. My confidence in my own abilities has taken a battering recently because of (i) the silly mistakes I’ve made which appear to be due to Fibro Fog and (ii) having to pull out of various activities, which gave those comments added significance for me. By and large, I do prefer people to be honest about my work and/or achievements. That’s not to say that I take them lying down! I don’t promise to change something just because it has been suggested to me – I never have been any good at doing as I was told! However, if I have asked for an opinion, for example, on how an item of clothing looks on me, I would prefer to be given an honest response which I can then take into consideration when deciding on my next step. Like everyone else, I make mistakes, but how can I learn from them if I’m not aware that I’ve made them?

 

*For those of you who don’t know, the Blue Mountains get their name from the highly flammable blue mist which comes off the eucalyptus trees. For those of you who already knew that, don’t read this paragraph!

A Bouncy Sort Of Day

Yesterday there was bad weather across much of the British Isles and, during our journey from Donegal to home, we encountered quite a bit of it! As we set sail from Belfast to Cairnryan, an announcement came across the public address system. We were informed that our crossing could be bouncy, sorry, a little rough. There seemed to be a collective sharp intake of breath as the passengers heard that news. I, however, was already used to it being a bouncy sort of day.

We had had an early start to the day as the departure time of our coach was 07:15. That meant that the hotel had scheduled breakfast for our group at 06:20. Peter had gently woken me at around 05:45. I like to have a slow start to the day and had calculated that if I woke then it would allow time for that.

I felt more tired than usual when I awoke, and it was a different type of tiredness. It seemed to wear off fairly quickly, however, upon reflection, I was slower and quieter than usual, although I didn’t particularly notice it at the time.

When I boarded the coach I settled down with my knitting. I realise that probably seems a little unusual, but when travelling I often knit or crochet early in the day. I only managed to knit a few rows and then I began to feel unwell. I started to ache all over, felt ill – almost as though I had flu – and had a desperate, almost panicky need to sleep. Normally I can fall asleep fairly easily on a coach but that certainly wasn’t the case yesterday morning. My feeling ill, inability to get comfortable and desperate need to sleep began to make me vulnerable and almost tearful. I felt a deep need for human touch and reassurance. Peter and I had taken advantage of there being many empty seats on the coach and each had a pair of seats to ourselves. However, feeling as I did, I moved back to sit next to him. I snuggled into his shoulder and, holding his hand, drifted off to sleep. I was pleased to be feeling much brighter when I awoke some time later.

On the ferry, we disembarked from our coach and headed upstairs to the passenger deck. As we were doing so there was some confusion as to which deck we needed to be on. That was when the Fibro Fog hit me. Later, Peter asked if I had been experiencing dizziness so I realised that he had noticed the state I was in, at the time.

As you can see, it was quite an up and down sort of day for me yesterday. It gave me a further insight into how my Fibro is taking shape. Whether or not that is helpful, I have yet to find out.