The start of a fibro flare

Roll up, roll up, it’s that time again! Time for the coping strategies and positive posts to sit quietly at the back whilst the fibro flare takes centre stage. Ladies and gents, let’s not get cocky now; it’s time for the flare to put me in my place. I know it’s coming, I know how it feels, and yet it surprises me every time. And every time it knocks the wind right out of my spoonie sails.

Chrystallathoma

Last week I got back from Portugal feeling pretty proud of myself for surviving my first music festival of the year. It was heavy going and I expected some backlash, but I was feeling fairly optimistic – I didn’t push myself too much and I was the most sensible I’ve ever been, so a small part of me that thought I might have got away with it.

Sadly, with pain like this, I can only assume the fibro flare saw me grooving to Good Vibrations and has come to do some damage to my arrogant, thoughtless, dancing self.

The festival, combined with a seven hour flight delay at the airport, meant physical strain and interrupted sleep. The first week back I felt truly exhausted, like I couldn’t catch up on the good night’s sleep I should have had – missed to sitting upright playing cards and drinking overpriced drinks in the departure lounge. Each night my bed time got earlier, but I was yawning through meetings and sleeping on trains and felt like my body was moving on the outside whilst I hid, nervously inside the shell.

This week the exhaustion has continued but with it comes the pain. Today, a pain so severe that I can do nothing but politely acknowledge the arrival of the flare, tip-toe around gently and whisper so as not to aggravate it further, hoping that it will leave me alone by the end of the week.

aqua deer
Image via Aqua Deer

 

My muscles feel like I went to body pump last night, and then squeezed in a spinning class before work this morning. I’ve never worked them so hard, yet I didn’t do a thing.

My knee joints feel so painful I think they’re about to come apart, like a raggedy old doll who’s been pulled in too many directions too many times.

My fingers hurt with every touch of the keyboard, like I broke them months ago and the bones haven’t recovered.

I’m so tired I could fall asleep in the middle of my dinner, like a newborn baby has woken me every hour of the night and now I can’t focus on a single thought without my heavy eyelids closing.

Luckily, I am nothing if not experienced. I know what’s ahead of me and I know how to deal with it. Remember the cycle I posted a couple of months ago? I’ve got a few more days of pain before I can feel sorry for myself, then get angry, and then I can go back to feeling strong and cocky all over again.

the cycle