Tuesday, December 02, 2014

How Many Times Have You Been Pregnant in the Last Twelve Months?

Surreal is the one word that describes the last half of this year for me.  I have gone from expecting to recover from a repetitive stress injury to realizing that it's going to last for a long time.  This became clearer when my doctor uttered the word “fibromyalgia.”  The condition drains energy, and it prevents sufferers from enjoying their favorite activities. Even though fibromyalgia makes things harder, it does have its lighter moments. For me, these lighter moments came about through the actions of well-meaning individuals.

I did not try to hide the pain when it began, and I would double over in pain frequently.  People asked if I were all right.  Several customers asked if they could get someone for me.  The most concerned customers had a relaxed attitude about the legality of sharing prescription painkillers and offered some to me. Because these offers occurred before I was given any medications, I was sorely tempted to take these kind customers up on their offers.  (The first solution I was given was to lose more weight.)

The pain continued, but the medical professionals eventually came to the realization that I needed something more than exercise to deal with the pain.   I know take gabapentin and tramadol to help manage it. Medications allow me to make it through the day most of the time, but painkillers cannot always stop pain. One such day occurred a few weeks ago. My right hip and left knee bugged me. In fact, both felt like they were grinding when I moved them. An older customer in a mobility scooter noticed this and offered to let me sit down in her chair. She was rather insistent about it. If I had not informed her that I had my own supply of pain meds the conversation would have continued much longer than it did.

Neither of these stories is laugh-out loud funny, nor do they top today's most bizarre question. ("How many times have you been pregnant in the last twelve months?*) It also helps me from displaying my brilliant dark wit to one of my supervisors. The supervisor has informed me that getting older is fun and that I’m too young to be falling apart.

*I was going to inform the survey taker that I had my last period in 1962, but I realized she probably would not have appreciated this as a response.


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