Morning Cuppas With Glenys

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.

"But by the grace of God, go I"

As you probably know, I suffer from a myriad of health issues from life threatening to annoying. Each day is a constant struggle to keep my home and look after Chris and myself and our little white cat, Xena.

Recently, I read an article about chronically ill bloggers who use the internet to feed their latent Munchausen's disease The writer who obviously is not suffering an invisible chronic illness, concludes- falsely that we are feeding a desire for attention and sympathy.

This writer had no medical expertise and spoke with the confidence and freedom of a healthy person who knows nothing of the pain every day brings to us who aren't so blessed. It made me both angry and sad.

Anyone who manages to carry on a relatively "normal" life, sacrificing their comfort to serve and love those closest to them, know that the only thing we really desire is compassion. We rarely take delight in our symptoms, in fact the majority of us try very hard to appear as a healthy person in spite of being in pain and discomfort.

Goodness knows, we suffer so much with people judging us unkindly and this simply serves to push us further into depression and loneliness. Especially when our illness is invisible, like fibromyalgia.

Many of us chronically ill people are housebound for the most part, and therefore we feel a certain amount of loneliness and disjointment from society. We simply want to be respected and allowed to simply exist without the stigma of mental disease in the form of Munchausen's.

We bloggers of chronic illness do so because we know the feeling of disenfranchisement in a social sense. We are stripped of our right to live in peace and freedom from bullying ignorant people.

Writing for those who suffer like we do helps us to reach out to people who would understand the psychological insulation and the sting of being misjudged and categorised as a malingering attention seeker.

Whilst it is true that we have the LORD to love us unconditionally, it nevertheless hurts us that people are so cruel and instrumental in adding ridiculous labels to us that demoralise us even further.

Chronic illness and pain is a horrid way to live and those who cast stones at us would do well to thank God that they aren't so afflicted. God has not chosen them to walk the lonely path of chronic illness and they also would do well to remember "but by the grace of God, go I"

Beloved, I pray that you may prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers. 3 John 1:2

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.

The cupboard was bare

So with chronic illness, one has to find shortcuts and plans that whilst celebrating events, keeps the work involved to a minimum so we don't run out of spoons.

This Christmas, with the mother of all Fibromyalgia flares and hosts of painful ailments all vying for top position, my twin sister and I decided to buy KFC again this year, and make that our Christmas feast.

With her being a Fibromite with Lupus, we planned to buy it to eat as a family for our festive lunch. We had done it before and we found it just right. So the plan seemed sound.

However, it turned to dust as Chris and I travelled to my sister and son's house, looking up various KFC's on our phone. Each website showed it as being closed this Christmas Day!

We called in to my elder son's home to wish them a Merry Christmas and exchange gifts, and I told them of our dilemma. Straight away, my daughter-in -law called my son to start carving up their enormous leg of ham.

She also gave us a large tray of pasta salad and a frozen dessert suitable for 4 people. They both saved the day for us.

Arriving at my younger son's and sister's, I was informed that her cupboard was bare. She also planned on KFC as our Christmas fare and hadn't anything else available. She was so relieved when Chris came in with the food from my other son.

We ate lunch with great relish, exchanged gifts and hugs and took Holy Communion together. It was quite special and we enjoyed remembering Jesus's birthday.

Later on, I talked to my son and his partner and told them they had saved our Christmas. Faced with nothing to eat and an empty pantry, it made me think of Mother Hubbard and how she must have felt when the cupboard was bare.

By him therefore let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually, that is, the fruit of [our] lips giving thanks to his name. Hebrews 13:15

The cupboard was bare.

So with chronic illness, one has to find shortcuts and plans that whilst celebrating events, keeps the work involved to a minimum so we don't run out of spoons.

With her being a Fibromite with Lupus, we planned to buy it to eat as a family for our festive lunch. We had done it before and we found it just right. So the plan seemed sound.

However, it turned to dust as Chris and I travelled to my sister and son's house, looking up various KFC's on our phone. Each website showed it as being closed this Christmas Day!

She also gave us a large tray of pasta salad and a frozen dessert suitable for 4 people. They both saved the day for us.

We ate lunch with great relish, exchanged gifts and hugs and took Holy Communion together. It was quite special and we enjoyed remembering Jesus's birthday.

Her Kinsman-Redeemer

Through new-born eyes the infant King stares at Mary's face,
Her deep brown eyes drinking in the sight of Him-
His tiny hand clasped strongly around her finger-
The first touch of God incarnate amongst man.
He is God's own Son-
Her Kinsman-Redeemer.

Through pain-filled eyes the crucified King stares into Mary’s face again,

Entrusting her into John’s care-

Longing to reach out to her with His pierced hands

To bring her the comfort of God -

He is her own Son-

Her Kinsman-Redeemer.

In death His glazed eyes still behold her and all mankind for whom He died,

His bloodied hand now resting on Mary’s shoulder

Comforting her as she cries in her grief –

Even in death loving her,

Her victorious Saviour and evermore

Her Kinsman-Redeemer.

“When Jesus saw His mother, He said, ‘Woman, behold your son!” John 19:26

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.

Missionaries in our own home.

These days feminism has belittled the role of wife, mother and homemaker so much that most young women see their role as unimportant. Nothing could be further from the truth.

A woman's presence in the home, training and raising her children properly is of utmost importance, both to the husband and the children. Her input in her children's upbringing will have ramifications for eternity.

Children are a blessing from the LORD and so is a home in which to raise them. The nurturing of children, of husband and home come from a faithful woman who sees the importance of her role as a Christian woman.

Because society has for the most part become godless, the things of the LORD such as raising children, having a successful marriage and keeping a holy home are cast aside as things of little import. However, the truly wise wife will take her role seriously and raise her children as unto the LORD.

In this dark world in which we live, we wives and mothers have the perfect opportunity to keep guard over our homes, protecting the minds and peace of both our husband and children. This includes grandmothers when having their grandchildren stay.

It is no surprise that the enemy has propagated feminism as the way forward for womankind. It is destroying family life and making women discontented with their God given calling.

We have a big influence over whether or not our child will accept Christ as their Saviour. Child raising should be our first priority. Your daily work as a wife, mother and homemaker is of great value to the LORD.

Make no mistake: we are missionaries in our own home.

“See then that you walk circumspectly, not as fools but as wise, redeeming the time, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be unwise, but understand what the will of the Lord is.” Ephesians 5:15-17

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!

A merry little Christmas

We are waiting for the real estate to carry out their 6 monthly house inspection for our rental. There won't be any problems. We love our home and have a lady come do some cleaning every two weeks. Just the stuff like vacuuming and mopping that we can't do anymore.

I have washed all our bedding over the last few days and stored our doonas away because we are now in our summer. Next week I will wash our pillows.

I will be making some sugar cookies to try out my Christmas nativity rolling pin. The cookie cutters came yesterday. I want to get the dough right before I make them up for Christmas gifts. If our little granddaughter is here before Christmas Day, I will let her help. She loves being in the kitchen and I let her cook or bake.

Our doctor is going to do a phone consult for us this afternoon. It's mainly for prescriptions but I need some advice on meds for Chris's fluids. His feet are swollen like balloons. (He has heart failure) I could have gotten in to actually see the doctor this afternoon, but Chris won't go, so I settled on the phone consult.

I put our little Christmas tree up and hung a wreath on the door..

Just taking things quietly each day. With another flare of fibromyalgia, it's enough. Like my 18" tree! We are going to have a merry "little" Christmas.