We both are spoilt girls

With heart failure and certain blood pressure tablets, my feet and legs puff up with fluid. I have pitting oedema which means that the indent when a finger is pressed on the limb, stays for a long time. My heart is not working as it should.

At the end of the day, when we watch TV together, Chris will automatically reach for my feet and gently massage them, rubbing the fluid upward towards the heart. He also rubs my toes which burn and sting with neuropathy from diabetes.

The other night as Chris rubbed my foot, Xena jumped up onto the couch and lay beside me. Not wanting to miss out on cuddles, she put her paw up on Chris's arm, purring loudly. It was a lovely relaxing time and helped lift our depression. 

Neither Chris or I are doing too well physically at the moment. Chris's sugars are uncontrolled and he has fluid on his lungs from heart failure.

Such is the loving nature of this man that he rubs my feet continually, even when he needs his own done. I do rub his feet and legs at least once a day and when I cut his toe nails for him. But it must be said that his ministrations to me are more frequent than mine to him. I simply have no spoons at the end of the day. 

I manage the house with all that entails and Chris knows that my spoons are in short supply, especially with a fibromyalgia flare, and so he seeks to bring me some comfort and pleasure at the end of the day.

Xena seems to pick up on the loving atmosphere and always makes sure she's between us in order to be included in the cuddles. 

She loves her Daddy too and we consider her as our feline child-and because she loves her Mummy as well, she purrs contentedly as she wonders which one of us is a spoilt girl. We both are spoilt girls.

This too will pass

 

It's been nearly a week without spoons. I have absolutely no energy to speak of and have just been focussing on keeping the clothes washed, kitchen clean and cooking.

I suppose it's my fault. With some recent spoons, I probably overdid it and hence the Flare of Flares. It's sort of predictable with fibromyalgia. But I was hoping to break out of the pain/fatigue cycle. I haven't.

 

The doctor has become concerned about my blood pressure being high 160/90 and has been trying to get me to give myself a once a week injection of a drug that's supposed to help me lose weight as well as keep the sugars low. I don't want it.

My feelings are that once you inject something, you have to put up with any side-effects for another week, unlike oral tablets that you have some control over. You can stop taking them: not so with injections. Yes, you can stop using them but the chemical is in your system for a week.

I am sick enough with the antibiotics I am taking for suspected cellulitis in my leg. They are very rugged and have given me thrush as well. But I need to finish the course to heal my leg.

So because I have an infection, I am listening to my body and taking a nana nap if I need it. And I don't feel guilty for napping.

I am trying to keep upbeat and not stress too much. It's hard for me as Chris is suffering with his heart failure as well.

I know better days must come and that's why I chose the picture above. With prayer and leaning on the LORD, this phrase often comes to mind:  "this too will pass" and it will- eventually. 

When you got no spoons everyone has to help!

So my respite from pain has come to a sorry end. I have been hit with the Mother of all Flares. Just breathing is too much effort and sleep is brief and light. The truck that hit me didn't even stop. 

I have been pacing myself majoring on keeping the dishes and the washing up to date. It hasn't been too difficult really as I have planned in advance for the inevitable fibromyalgia flare that comes after a respite.

Most people who don't suffer from fibromyalgia would call me a pessimist, but we Fibromites know how fickle our body is and how greedy it is for spoons. We never can have enough spoons to say we are energetic. Spoons are energy measures

It's enough to have enough spoons to take a shower some days, and we usually suffer after for it in spite of the pride in ourselves that we made the effort and did it..and the luxurious feeling that being dainty brings.

No, we are realists who accept that our bodies are treacherous. They lure us into a false sense of joy in a seeming abundance of spoons- well enough spoons to make us believe that we can change the sheets, bake a cake, vacuum the lounge room or go shopping. In real life shopping, not just on the computer.

Knowing better really, but delirious in the freedom that a few spoons brings, our joy knows no bounds and we actually dare to live like we did before Fibro claimed our lives, bodies and joy. And we keep living in the moment full of joie de vie until the joy and spoons are gone.  

No, I knew from 20 years experience that my respite from pain would be short-lived and it was.  But because of planning for it, it hasn't seen me in a total mess, overwhelmed with meals and mess.

I had my handmaiden, aka dishwasher and I kept up with the dishes. I did a load of washing a day and I dried it in the dryer. But my greatest life saver was my frozen dinners I have in the freezer. They saved the day.

In all honesty, though I haven't kept the house running smoothly all by myself. I have had to enlist Chris to help me with stacking and unstacking the dishwasher and I asked him to put his own clean clothes away as soon as they came out of the dryer.

He has been really good actually- a blessing really. He also encourages me to take a nana nap, and feeling so fatigued and sore, I am so glad. We all need a hand when we are feeling so wretched and when you got no spoons everyone has to help! 

You just don't know when it will break.

 

Over the last week I have been enjoying a respite from fibromyalgia pain and fatigue. I don't know why it happened, but of course I am glad it did.

During that time I have been busy cooking meals in advance for the next time I have the inevitable flare. It has been working out really well.

I have been carefully pacing myself, allowing 15 minutes of decluttering then resting. Emotionally, it's very satisfying.

Well, I woke up this Sunday morning and have had an unwelcome guest: you guessed it: another fibromyalgia flare. So I guess that I overdid it..So today I will be reaping the benefits of preparing some meals in advance. 

Conversely, though suffering physically, I am not depressed by this: I knew my respite wouldn't last forever. But oh how wonderful it was to have some spoons and to be able to go a whole day without a nana nap!

We Fibromites in regards to spoons and flares, are definitely babies in cradles swinging from the tree tops. We know that at any time the bough can break and we will come tumbling down. 

But it's best if we just learn to go with the flow and try to enjoy the respite: the bough might not break for ages, but you never do know.

Keeping dainty with chronic illness

I have been ill with fibromyalgia for about twenty years now. In that time, lots of things have changed, and one of them is my personal hygiene routine.

One would think that taking a bath or a shower would be an easy thing to accomplish, but if you suffer from chronic fatigue, fibromyalgia, back problems or angina problems like I do, you would realise that it consumes a lot of your spoons. So I had to do a bit of rethinking of my daily routines. I've discovered that one of the places that takes a lot of my spoons is the bathroom.

Because bathing and drying and dressing exhaust me, I varied my time in taking a bath depending on how well I feel. If I have enough energy, I would bathe in the morning, if not I would take a shower before bed as Chris is home and he helps me get dried and into my nightie. (When you are chronically ill, you quickly get over being humbled by needing assistance- you are grateful for any help available.)

I have found that if I take a bath or shower in the morning I am left with no energy for the rest of the day. If I take my shower at night, I have just enough energy afterwards to get myself to bed, which works out much better.

Hot baths or showers leave me too exhausted and give me angina pain, so I take showers with only warm or tepid water. While I would prefer to shower every day, showering is best done every other day for me to avoid flare-ups of pain, fatigue and soreness. I have decided on some new course of action to make time in my bathroom more fibro-friendly.

One of the first things I changed was how I take a shower, or rather, the position in which I shower: sitting. Here I find those telephone type showers are useful. When I get out of the shower, I sit down to dry off.

I can no longer blow dry my hair so by necessity my hairstyle has been wash and air dry for years now. Time in front of the sink brushing my teeth or washing my face has been modified by resting one foot on a stool while standing. Because of spinal problems and being a short person, I have a glass in my bathroom which I fill with water and use for rinsing and cleaning my toothbrush without straining to reach the tap.

I no longer wear makeup, the standing in front of the mirror and the use of my hands in holding the various tools of the task, is now limited to special occasions only; it is too painful a task to do on a daily basis. Also, my face is so sensitive that it breaks out in red welts at the slightest pressure... which includes smearing on foundation. This is called dermagraphia.

The bottom line is taking a shower is a real workout now. In addition to modifying how I take a shower, I am going to follow these 3 rules: I will only take a shower at night, I will only take warm water showers and I will only take a shower every other day. With the employment of a good deodorant after each shower and a fresh change of underwear each night and morning, I have found that I don't offend anyone and remain feminine and dainty.

Life with chronic illness is complicated, but at least I manage to stay clean while living it!

© Glenys Robyn Hicks

So teach [us] to number our days, that we may apply [our] hearts unto wisdom. Psalm 90:12

My new maid servant

 

So as you probably know, I have had trouble keeping up to date with my dishes. No matter how good my intentions were, by the end of the day I had a sinkful of dishes waiting to be done.

Coming in to the kitchen first thing in the morning, I was always down as soon as I saw them waiting for me to find some spoons to attend to them. I know those who suffer from fibromyalgia like I do, would understand.

As we live in a rented house and we cannot change the plumbing to accommodate a dishwasher, I felt it was a never ending cycle that I couldn't break.

One day I was looking at the price of mobile dishwashers and I noticed that they make a dishwasher that you can park on your kitchen benchtop and I knew I wanted one. So we ordered one online. It's a Devanti.

It came yesterday and I am so pleased with it. It has hoses that attach to the taps in the kitchen sink. It takes a 8 place dinner service and does as good a job as the inbuilt ones. An added bonus is that I don't have to bend to stack and unstack it.

So not only does this dishwasher solve the problem of dishes piling up and no spoons, but saves my back from trying to bend. Ankylosing spondylitis is no joke. 

Anyway, I am overjoyed that the dishes are no longer my nemesis thanks to my new maid servant.

You wouldn't see June Cleaver doing that!

 

So today was a productive day. Apart from doing a few loads of washing, I had enough spoons to prepare some meals to freeze for during the week.

I confess I had a nana nap at "The Beach" aka the couch as the sun was shining and gave a beautiful warmth as I listened to the birds calling through the screen door.

Six more meals have been added to my freezer and I can say that it seems to be working out for me. I don't worry about cooking desserts- I usually serve some fruit with a scoop of icecream or a banana split. Easy.

With fibromyalgia  and other ailments making it difficult to achieve much, I can't tell you how pleased I am with my efforts today.

I feel quite the Homemaker and Chris is pleased as well. Only question is: does it still count if I did all this in my nightie? You wouldn't see June Cleaver doing that!

I am glad I have done this!

So I have been busy cooking those meals and freezing them as I mentioned in my last post. It has been quite an effort for me, but I think it's paid off.

I managed to get 30 meals cooked and in the freezer. I ran out of containers and room, so I had to place the food in plastic ziploc bags. No matter, because they will taste the same.

Last night I got a spaghetti bolognaise out, emptied it nicely thawed, onto a plate and nuked it for 3 minutes. It was great! I added shaved parmesan cheese and some salad and it was delicious! 

Yesterday my younger son turned 45 and we went to his place to wish him happy birthday. It's a 2 hour trip each way, so by the time we got home I was too exhausted to cook. So this came in handy. 

I have quite a few dishes to do today and I want to clean my kitchen well, so if I have enough spoons left, I want to cook four meals of chow mein with rice.

Sitting here talking to you, I feel like I am falling asleep and my muscles are aching badly. So I fear maybe another fibromyalgia flare is coming to pay me a visit. Just another reason I am glad I have done this! 

Hopefully it will work

So I have noticed that even on a rare good day with my fibromyalgia, I still have a dip in energy by 3 or 4pm. Usually that's my time to start preparing dinner. I simply run out of spoons.

Because I don't want to make eating frozen dinners the norm, I decided to try a new plan. I am going to cook a few weeks to a month ahead and freeze the meals.

Any day that I find myself having enough spoons, I will cook a few meals at the same time and gradually build this up to a month of meals in advance.

I know it's going to take a lot of planning, but I think in the end it will be worth it. I actually started yesterday.

Firstly, I went through my fridges and freezers and grouped meats together. Yesterday I made 4 meals each honey chicken with vegetables, potatoes and gravy, then another 2 meals of Mexican chicken with rice. Today I am going to bake the chicken rissoles and kievs and add mashed potato and greens.

The next day, God willing- and spoons available, I am going to cook some stews with a lot of vegetables, using up my pork and beef steaks. 

On the next Spoon Friendly Day, I plan to make up 6 meals with my sausages. I find my slow cookers- I have 3 of them, so handy plus they don't heat the kitchen up like the oven. We are in our summer at the moment.

I am not sure if I can freeze baked potatoes and bacon successfully, but if I can I will do that for lunches.

We will still be having salads with our meals but I buy the packet salads that are already cut and washed, and that not only saves on spoons but helps me with my arthritic hands.

I know this way is not a new thing to most people, but it is something new to me. Hopefully it will work. 

Normally abnormal

We chronically ill women try so hard to do "normal" things. Like look well. Be cheerful. Be patient. Kind. Hospitable. Our family and marriage are our first priority after God. We try so hard to spin our wheel not fast- but at a "normal" pace. 

By "normal", we compare ourselves to those who do not suffer from chronic illness and pain. Or are disabled. We are very careful to keep serving our family but sometimes with the illness that afflicts us: we fail. This often gets to us and causes us to sink into depression. 

Being unable to process that we simply can't act as "normals", we often berate ourselves and sink into the Pit of Despair. We are often judged by "normal" standards, as we simply cannot attend certain social functions like before. If we do, the pain and effort can make us tense and we can make us appear moody unsociable grumps aka the death head at the feast. 

If only "normals" would realise that we are pushing ourselves every day to live a life that not even closely is "normal" like in the days before our health failed. We get so adept at doing this, that we have become quite good at wearing masks to cover the Mask Of Pain. Hence the appearance of being in a mood. 

My fibromyalgia and other health issues have now made it impossible for me to disguise, and I have learned to acknowledge this to people and tell them in advance that my attendance or action or whatever is totally subject to how I am on any given day. 

Basically, I have had to pander to angina, spinal and knee problems, fibromyalgia, polymyalgia rheumatica, and submit to tyrannical spoons by being totally flexible about my appointments and so on. 

People may still misjudge me but that is not my problem. I just pray that the LORD will allow them to see that I am not lazy or unsociable, but am just a chronically ill woman who finds just breathing some days enough effort. 

The LORD knows I am not well, but people take a lot more convincing. I am normally abnormal.   

Put on therefore, as the elect of God, holy and beloved, bowels of mercies, kindness, humbleness of mind, meekness, longsuffering; Colossians 3:12

My eternal quest

 

I slept well last night but still had no spoons to speak of. After a morning of minimal chores, I sat down next to Chris to watch the birds coming to eat the food I had thrown out for them.

Because of my heart failure, my feet and legs are up like balloons and Chris rubs them for me to help move the fluid up towards my heart. With neuropathy from my diabetes, he rubs my toes to move the blood around and help the circulation. It is heavenly.

Suddenly, I heard sonorous sounds that woke me up: to my horror, it was me snoring! Chris just laughed when he saw that I had woken myself up and suggested I try to get some more sleep before lunch. But the moment was lost and I got up and made some grilled toasties for our lunch.

I soaked the few dishes in hot soapy water, removed a small leg of lamb from the freezer, did some computer work and fell asleep at the screen. So I went for a nana nap as that's the only thing I can do with a fibromyalgia flare.

After I napped, I put the lamb on to roast and completed the dishwashing. We ate dinner and Chris cleared up the kitchen. We took our night medications and Chris watched TV while I blogged.

And so, here I sit, talking to you and longing for my bed again. I had no joy today finding some spoons and it may well be that tomorrow I will be pursuing my search again- it is my eternal quest.

It's gonna be a PJ's day.

 

The rain is pouring down but it's not cold just pleasantly warm after the last few days of summer heat. Xena is still asleep on my bed.

Chris is watching TV and I have got the breakfast dishes soaking in hot soapy water. The house is tidy and cosy. Life is good.

I woke up early and left Chris to sleep. I heard the birds calling each other and watched as my beloved Kingfishers came down searching for some left over sausage among the rice dish I put out for them last night.

Carefully opening the sliding door that opens onto the decking where they congregate waiting for me to feed them, they sat only inches away from me. Gradually they are coming closer to feeding from my hand. 

The washing machine is churning away at the load of clothes I am washing. I try to do a load a day so as not to use up all my spoons in one hit, folding them and putting them away. 

People with fibromyalgia would understand the need to pace oneself in order to achieve some completion of household tasks. There's so much job satisfaction in even doing one load of washing and putting it away. 

I have some steak thawing for dinner tonight. I am planning on cooking a vegetable intensive beef stew.

With the cooler weather and rain, the menu begs for a stew...

I still haven't changed out of my pajamas and it's 1pm but I don't really care. We aren't going anywhere and I am feeling pretty laid back and a tad achy. It's the change in weather.

It was a pretty slow but pleasant morning with Chris making me some breakfast and a cup of tea. The panadol is kicking in helping me with the aches and pains of fibromyalgia that's reacting to the weather change, but I am glad to report that it's not a fibro flare per se.

So in spite of aches and pains, I am feeling pretty good today, but even so, it's gonna be a PJ's day. 

I just have to pursue it.

 So with a horrid year last year, I was quite happy to see the end of it. I messaged my friends and family and wished them a happy new year, then turned my phone off and went to bed.

It was on 11 o'clock, but I was exhausted and had no spoons left. The weather was really warm and I decided to forgo my electric blanket. With the help of a Tramadol, I managed to quell my fibro and back pain and soon fell asleep.

I woke up at 2am and realised that it was January 1st. Not that it makes much difference what year or day it is- for Chris and I one day is much the same as another. We stay home mostly.

This year, I am training myself to live in the moment. That's all we are promised anyway. I have worried about what lies ahead this new year, but I am going to stop thinking too far ahead.

I plan to read more of the Bible and saturate myself in uplifting read and videos. I am going to try to live with hope and not dwell on negatives.

The eternal optimist, I am going to believe that I am going to have less fibro pain and get more done. I mean, if one thinks only of horrible things it will ensure that I just exist and don't live.

I don't want to endure next year, but enjoy it. It's a big ask, but it is possible. I tell myself it's possible to live an abundantly happy life in spite of pain. I just have to pursue it. 

They're silently waiting for me

Anyone who follows this blog knows that I struggle with washing the dishes. It is a battle that is fought and lost on two fronts: emotional and physical.

The emotional part is owing to the fact that I don't have a dishwasher and the dishes multiply like rabbits and are a continual eye sore on the side of the sink. 

In spite of cleaning them up and being rewarded by not only an empty sink and benches and of course, clean dishes- I find the complete futility of feeling done with them is disheartening.

A terrible procrastinator, I promise myself that I will keep up with them, but illness laughs as it assails me with yet another flare, and they remain on the bench mocking me for being  defeated yet again.

So here comes the other side of this domestic dilemma: being completely out of spoons and suffering from broken knees and collapsing spine. I simply cannot stand.

And of course that horridly wicked ruler, Fibromyalgia ensures that I am in an almost constant flare, and it is the cherry on the top of my cocktail of pain. So not only is my physical health attacked, but also my mental health. It's depressing.

I know I could ask Chris for help, but he has heart failure and battles his own health issues. It has always been me who washes the dishes, and then he will usually come and dry them and put them away. I am grateful.

Until I can gather some spoons I will sit and wait for my Tramadol to work. I plan to clear the dishes up, cook some steak and vegetables for dinner tonight and rest. That's the plan. Meanwhile, they're silently waiting for me.

Oh no, no ho ho

So we had our little granddaughter Taylah for a few days, and picked her up Friday, but it didn't go to plan. After a full day, in spite of me making an effort to play with her and give her my full attention, she decided she wanted to go home. 

She said she missed her mother, and so we made the 2 hour trip each way to drop her off again. Even though I didn't drive, I was exhausted. Even being a passenger is gruelling when you have a fibromyalgia flare, angina, sore back and broken knees that throb with every heart beat.

I had bought a rolling pin with the nativity on it and planned to make Christmas cookies as gifts. Well, I did make cookies as promised with Taylah helping me, but not the ones I planned to give away. They were plain cookies. 

When I told her we had to refrigerate the dough for a couple of hours, she said she didn't want to have to wait. So the Christmas cookies didn't come to pass. 

The Mother of all Flares has come to pay me yet another visit- or maybe I just haven't recovered from the last one. I am feeling so exhausted I could collapse. So yesterday I had a nana nap and went to bed earlier than normal.

I was hoping that would do the trick and give me some wind under my sails, but in truth I awoke with no spoons. No spoons on Christmas Eve is a disaster!

We were supposed to leave our home around 11am today and visit my children and grandchildren but I felt unsteady on my feet, due to wonky knees, foggy in head due to fibro and hurting so badly with my spinal stenosis that I had to cancel.

Tomorrow we are supposed to see Taylah open her presents, visit my sister and son for lunch and go to my step-daughter's for afternoon tea before driving the two hours home before dark.

Truthfully, unless I have a miracle, we won't be going. After I finish chatting to you, I will be letting the Tramadol work by going to bed to rest. I really want to feel better.

As much as I love my family and Christmas, it would seem that it is going to have to be cancelled. It's a pity but it is what it is! Besides, nobody wants a spaced out whiny woman around them on Christmas Day. And I don't want to her, but unfortunately it's hard with illness to have any ho ho ho. 

No mojo with fibro

So leading up to Christmas, I had my 9 year old granddaughter Taylah, stay with us until Christmas Eve, when she would be taken home in plenty of time for Santa to come.

I promised Tay that we would make Christmas cookies make cubbies, play school, go swimming and have a play date with her cousins. 

Day one started out well and we played school, office workers and shop keepers. I showed Tay how to touch type, taught her a bit of Italian and French in a fun way and then I promptly ran out of spoons.

I simply had to give in to the pain and take some Tramadol to keep going. I made some lunch and felt like I might pass out. Dizziness assailed me and I felt vomity. Probably the Tramadol.

I had to explain to Tay that I love having her here, but am not well and I need to take a nana nap. She got a crash course in fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue. 

She had lost her paternal grandmother last week and was very anxious about me so I didn't want to frighten her too much, so I said that if I don't go to rest for an hour that I would not enjoy her stay because I would be cranky. If I went to bed just for an hour, I would enjoy it so much more, and so would she.

As she accepted this fact, she immediately bombarded me with "but I thought we were making cookies, playing out side and making a cubby house?" I told her we could do all that if I took a nap. She said OK then got her ipad out. I went to bed and allowed the Tramadol to do its magic. It didn't.

No, it didn't do anything except make me nauseous, even after a 20 minute nap. That was all I got. So, I got up, made us all a cup of tea and sat down with Chris to watch a video he wanted to show me.

Taylah pouted and demanded to make cookies, as I had had a nana nap. Groaning, I got up and started taking ingredients out to make the cookies. 

After that, I was too exhausted to clean the kitchen. I cooked dinner and then it was time for Tay to have her bath. That wasn't a big deal as she's nearly ten, but she wanted me to play MacDonalds with her, so I got some wooden spoons and plastic cups for her to play with. 

I sat on my shower stool and bought some Big Macs,"no pickles, no onion and a soft serve cone for my daughter." We blew bubbles with the Imperial Leather soap and I did what Fibromites do best: I tried to hide my pain and pretended to have a good time.

By 9 o'clock I insisted that Tay go to bed and I joined her. Before we went to sleep, she told me she missed her mother and wanted to go home.

In the morning, she assured me she loved being here and she loved me but wanted her mum. I told her I understood and that it was fine. We would take her home. She was humming to herself as she played teacher and when I went to the fridge, I found a love note from her to me.

I was glad as I worried she didn't stay with us longer because I was a boring old lady. And I fear I am. Cos everyone knows there's no mojo with fibro.

Resting my tired twinkle

So I did a thing that stripped me of what little spoons I had. I took a shower and went to click and collect a few Christmas gifts I ordered on line.

I came home and cooked dinner and had a bad asthma attack. I couldn't breathe properly. Chris tidied up the kitchen for me and I sat down for a while until I felt better.

The Mother of all Fibro Flares has paid me a visit. I ache everywhere and feel too exhausted even to talk. It is nearly 9pm here and I am ready to go to bed. 

You just have to listen to your body in times like this. Hopefully tomorrow I will wake up with some spoons.

After 6 months of not seeing my little granddaughter, Taylah, we are picking her up Friday and having her for a few days. I just have to be well enough for that. We have missed each other. Fortunately she is nearly 10 years old, so she doesn't need a lot of care.

I am too pooped to worry a great deal about Christmas this year. We have bought a few things online and that will have to do. Sometimes you just have to rest your tired twinkle! 

I am not "normal"

We chronically ill women try so hard to do "normal" things. Like look well. Be cheerful. Be patient. Kind. Hospitable.

Our family and marriage are our first priority after God. We try so hard to spin our wheel not fast- but at a "normal" pace. By "normal", we compare ourselves to those who do not suffer from chronic illness and pain. Or are disabled.

We are very careful to keep serving our family but sometimes with the illness that afflicts us: we fail. This often gets to us and causes us to sink into depression.

Being unable to process that we simply can't act as "normals", we often berate ourselves and sink into the Pit of Despair. 

We are often judged by "normal" standards, as we simply cannot attend certain social functions like before. If we do, the pain and effort can make us tense and we can make us appear moody unsociable grumps aka the death head at the feast. 

If only "normals" would realise that we are pushing ourselves every day to live a life that not even closely is "normal" like in the days before our health failed. We get so adept at doing this, that we have become quite good at wearing masks to cover the Mask Of Pain. Hence the appearance of being in a mood. 

My fibromyalgia and other health issues have now made it impossible for me to disguise, and I have learned to acknowledge this to people and tell them in advance that my attendance or action or whatever is totally subject to how I am on any given day.

Basically, I have had to pander to angina, spinal problems, fibromyalgia, polymyalgia rheumatica, and submit to tyrannical spoons by being totally flexible about my appointments and so on.

People may still misjudge me but that is not my problem. I just pray that the LORD will allow them to see that I am not lazy or unsociable, but am just a chronically ill woman who finds just breathing some days enough effort.

The LORD knows I am not well, but people take a lot more convincing. I am not "normal".

 © Glenys Robyn Hicks    

Put on therefore, as the elect of God, holy and beloved, bowels of mercies, kindness, humbleness of mind, meekness, longsuffering;  Colossians 3:12

I am blessed

 

After a horrid day with pain from my fibromyalgia and arthritis, I gratefully sank into bed, pulling my soft minkie blankets over me.

As is my custom before sleeping, I prayed and thanked God for the good things of the day. And as I started to pray, the blessings of the day kept on coming.

I was and am thankful and grateful for so many things which truthfully are more abundant than the horrid things that make up my life of chronic illness.

The warmth of my bed and the softness of my blankets, the feather down pillow that allowed me to adjust it to just the right way to support my sore neck and shoulder muscles and the light that shone softly at my bedside all soothed and nurtured me. 

The outside light shone through the star shapes in my drapes, and the little stars lit up the room and danced across my bed as my chest moved in breaths and sighs of contentment. My little cat snuggled up beside me. We were both content.

How blessed I am to be able to lay my head down to rest in peace. So many the world over do not have that luxury. 

My soft minkie pajamas caressed my skin, soothing it and unlike other clothing, did not make me itch in a way that started an itchy frenzy. Only the Fibromite who suffers from constant itch would be grateful for that.

As I gave thanks for all those things, I remembered the labour saving devices I have been blessed to own, and along with that, I gave thanks for the many convenience foods and products that make my life as a Sacrificial Home Keeper easier. Not for the first time, I thanked God for allowing me to live in a country where these products are available.

I am grateful for the convenience of online banking, shopping and grocery purchases. Many a day finds me with limited spoons and I do not feel inclined to leave my home.

And when I have to get repeat prescriptions made up, I am grateful that I have an app that allows me to order them and pick them up later...

Our little country home nurtures us and gives me many comforts for which I am also grateful. And as the happy relaxed thoughts overtook me, I drifted into sleep, glad and secure that I am the LORD'S and He will be there tomorrow to bless me and console me as I walk the lonely painful path of chronic illness and pain.

There's nothing that can compare to counting one's gifts of love from the LORD. I am blessed. And grateful.

 

 © Glenys Robyn Hicks

 

For thus says the Lord GOD, the Holy One of Israel: “ In returning and rest you shall be saved; In quietness and confidence shall be your strength.”  Isaiah 30:15 

Our little haven

 

So yesterday was a day of horrible fibromyalgia pain and fatigue. I felt a little down so I came to my couch and sat next to Chris for a cuddle and rest. 

We love feeding the birds that come into our back garden and all through the day, our garden is like an airport. Birds of all types come to dine and drink and it is so restful and fun to watch them.

They have their own little antics and natures and they can be quite amusing. And apart from watching their different natures and antics they have something else that we find very attractive: they have babies.

It's such fun to watch the mothers feeding their babies and to watch the babies venture further and further from her as they learn to feed themselves. They fly but are still juvenile and yesterday their mothers were distancing themselves from their chicks and refusing to feed them, much to their annoyance. 

The magpie juveniles are especially raucous and squawk even with food in their mouth. They are almost always feeding. The minor bird mummy also is weaning her chicks from her and as soon as she moves away, they follow like the duckling family juveniles do. So fun to watch.

But by far, my favourite birds are the Kingfishers which have also had babies. Whilst laying on the couch, I can see outside and I was delighted to see a mother Kingfisher with one of her three babies on our garden swing.

They were watching the porch which was covered in birdseed for the galahs and rosellas. I had thrown out some cut up luncheon meat, and they were waiting for the magpies to vacate the porch so that they could dine. Kingfishers are shy and besides, magpies are three times their size. So they wait.

It is the season for little white cabbage moths too. They are flying around the agapanthus plants and I guess they are mating because they seem to be in pairs. As are the pigeons that come for the seed.

There are three that regularly call in and partake of the parrot seed on the ground. There's a little female who just wants to eat, but there also is an amorous male who has romance on his mind. He pursues her constantly and hopes to make her his by dancing for her. 

He fans out his tail feathers and hops towards her, then takes a few steps back. He repeats this courting gesture until she tires of him and runs a few feet away. But he is insistent and pursues her over and over again. I hope that he wins her heart as it is such fun to  watch the young birds as they leave the nest under their mothers supervision.

We have a bird bath/feeder in the back garden which we used to fill with seed, but now with torn meniscuses in both knees, I cannot get down the steps to fill it, so they get fed from the back sliding glass door. I just toss the food onto the back porch. They don't care where it is. 

They are quite used to me now and I have them almost eating out of my hand. So much so that as soon as I open the door, they come flying in to the garden from all directions, calling each other.

We have water in the bird feeder and in a plastic container in front of the steps. They bathe and drink and sing and they enjoy our back garden as much as we do.

It's a lovely place to recoup one's spoons during a fibromyalgia flare. The daily scenes are so peaceful and we love our little haven and we know the birds think of it as their haven as well. Their constant visits and frequent broods of chicks speaks of a place of plentiful food, water and safety.

We are grateful God lead us to this little country town- it is a gift from Him: our little haven