I've had an exciting week this week - Britmums Live, Patronal Festival and a barbecue at my church, working hard to get a couple of new commercial projects off the ground (doing all I can to avoid having to get a proper job when Grumpy starts school in September) and networking, networking, networking.
It was busy and I did a lot of walking and my adrenalin levels were sky high so it was no surprise when on Sunday evening I felt the first tell-tale signs of a flare up of Fibromyalgia Syndrome.
I was diagnosed with FMS 6 years ago and I'm not going to go into the whys and wheres and hows right now - suffice it to say no-one really seems to know why, and more importantly (to me anyway) how to cure it!
Anyway on the whole I've learned to live with it- mainly with the help and support of my great friends, and my DH and kids. Sometimes I have a duvet day and just stay in PJs. Luckily my blog readers don't seemto care what I wear to write in!
I've learned some great techniques - the best being "F**k-it, I'm gonna carry on with or without a shower/working legs/anything with buttons"
So utilising this attitude after waking up to a flare up (luckily not a major, flat-on-my-back one) I got up to tackle the school run today and I thought I'd share my morning routine trying to outfox FMS.
Lie in bed as long as possible. Keeping still so as not to aggravate the stupid odd sensations in my arms, legs, hands and feet which are not always just painful but irritating. Think red hot ants running.
Gratefully slurp the coffee brought to me by DH and roll out of bed. He's fitted a handrail down the stairs so I hang onto that and head downstairs.
Lunchboxes. Wraps are more folded than wrapped. Fingers not working so well. Thank goodness for easy open and close boxes to pack the food in. Zip lock bags are impossible.
Need more coffee. Hit the button on my one cup "kettle" bought for me by a lovely friend - it boils one cup of water and dispenses it into my ready and waiting mug. Marvellous as lifting and pouring kettles not happening today.
Dropped the spoon I'm trying to put in the lunchbag. Call for a child to pick it up cause if I bend down I'm never coming back up.
Sit down for a bit. Exhausted. Did I mention FMS comes with a side order of chronic fatigue?
Kids do their own breakfast. Hurrah.
So they all get on with eating and getting dressed. I commandeer a passing teen to dress Grumpy and sort his breakfast then realise I have to get dressed too. Haha! My laziness yesterday is paying off! The laundry is all still piled up on the worktop and a quick rifle through what I laughingly call the ironing pile (as if I ever iron!) reveals enough clothes without buttons or similar fiddly fastenings to mean I don't have to try and walk upstairs again! Result!
A couple of posh face-wipes out of my handbag for a quick clean up will have to do instead of a shower. There's no way I'm going to be able to climb into the bath or in fact have the energy to stand there or raise my hands above my head to wash my hair. Thankfully I have long hair which might feel horrid unwashed but ties back or goes up really easily.
I remember spotting deodorant in the cleaning products cupboard in my kitchen a few days ago - probably put there by accident in a fibro mind fog whilst unpacking shopping - you'd be amazed where I find stuff! Yes! It's still there
I spray, start to dress and realise - there are no bras in the "ironing pile"! I debate going without but admit defeat (no-one needs to see that!) abandon my cunning plan and head slowly upstairs.
I gaze longingly at my bed, but grab appropriate pull-onable underwear. I pop in hooky earrings which have no fiddly backs to worry about and looking just about presentable I head downstairs.
Slip my feet into my kissed by kittens FatFace loafers (seriously - how soft are they?) and shout for the kids
to pick up their bags - 8.45am! I did it! dressed and as decent as I'm ever going to get
So take that Fibromyalgia Syndrome!
It was busy and I did a lot of walking and my adrenalin levels were sky high so it was no surprise when on Sunday evening I felt the first tell-tale signs of a flare up of Fibromyalgia Syndrome.
I was diagnosed with FMS 6 years ago and I'm not going to go into the whys and wheres and hows right now - suffice it to say no-one really seems to know why, and more importantly (to me anyway) how to cure it!
Anyway on the whole I've learned to live with it- mainly with the help and support of my great friends, and my DH and kids. Sometimes I have a duvet day and just stay in PJs. Luckily my blog readers don't seemto care what I wear to write in!
So utilising this attitude after waking up to a flare up (luckily not a major, flat-on-my-back one) I got up to tackle the school run today and I thought I'd share my morning routine trying to outfox FMS.
Lie in bed as long as possible. Keeping still so as not to aggravate the stupid odd sensations in my arms, legs, hands and feet which are not always just painful but irritating. Think red hot ants running.
Gratefully slurp the coffee brought to me by DH and roll out of bed. He's fitted a handrail down the stairs so I hang onto that and head downstairs.
Lunchboxes. Wraps are more folded than wrapped. Fingers not working so well. Thank goodness for easy open and close boxes to pack the food in. Zip lock bags are impossible.
Need more coffee. Hit the button on my one cup "kettle" bought for me by a lovely friend - it boils one cup of water and dispenses it into my ready and waiting mug. Marvellous as lifting and pouring kettles not happening today.
Dropped the spoon I'm trying to put in the lunchbag. Call for a child to pick it up cause if I bend down I'm never coming back up.
Sit down for a bit. Exhausted. Did I mention FMS comes with a side order of chronic fatigue?
Kids do their own breakfast. Hurrah.
So they all get on with eating and getting dressed. I commandeer a passing teen to dress Grumpy and sort his breakfast then realise I have to get dressed too. Haha! My laziness yesterday is paying off! The laundry is all still piled up on the worktop and a quick rifle through what I laughingly call the ironing pile (as if I ever iron!) reveals enough clothes without buttons or similar fiddly fastenings to mean I don't have to try and walk upstairs again! Result!
A couple of posh face-wipes out of my handbag for a quick clean up will have to do instead of a shower. There's no way I'm going to be able to climb into the bath or in fact have the energy to stand there or raise my hands above my head to wash my hair. Thankfully I have long hair which might feel horrid unwashed but ties back or goes up really easily.
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| Fibromyalgia Awareness |
I spray, start to dress and realise - there are no bras in the "ironing pile"! I debate going without but admit defeat (no-one needs to see that!) abandon my cunning plan and head slowly upstairs.
I gaze longingly at my bed, but grab appropriate pull-onable underwear. I pop in hooky earrings which have no fiddly backs to worry about and looking just about presentable I head downstairs.
Slip my feet into my kissed by kittens FatFace loafers (seriously - how soft are they?) and shout for the kids
So take that Fibromyalgia Syndrome!
