So I’m looking at my little blogs and wondering where on earth I’ve been for the past 2 weeks. Well, let me think.
On December 2 I re-entered the world of playing the piano in “big church”. I suppose it went well, w/ no major foul-ups, because I don’t remember playing it. I remember granny-walking up the steps to get to the piano. Still can’t do steps that well since the knee surgery. I remember granny-walking back down them again. And that’s it. Hubby said it sounded really good, and he’s usually honest w/ me when I mess something up. Plus, I’ve noticed that the times I play something really well–that should read “from the heart” as opposed to “from the head”–I don’t remember the event at all. When I was in high school my knees would shake so badly during recitals; I could hardly do the necessary pedaling. Now I just don’t think about it. I remember every mistake I made in every high school recital. Don’t remember much past that. I know I knocked my college senior recital out of the park, because I don’t remember a darn thing about it. Except for being backstage before and after.
Then Sunday night came, and things went downhill very fast. About 9:00 PM my chest, neck and left arm started hurting and the pain grew progressively worse. About 10 I started having trouble breathing. This has happened before and I’ve always chalked it up to “fibromyalgia flare-up, super-sized”, but it was worse. I called my mom, I called my nurse friend, I called my next-door neighbor. She’s a cardiac patient. My dad had so many cardiac problems that it’s still hard to keep them all straight in my head. Neighbor came over. At some point between midnight and 2:00 AM she called 911 and I went off to the hospital. No cardiac problems, JUST fibromyalgia, extra-strength. I’ve had some really bad flare-ups over the years, but this one was probably the worst. I couldn’t turn my head until about Wednesday afternoon. I already had an appointment Friday w/ a new doctor who specializes in fibro. So, I’ve lost an entire week to the monster. New doctor said that calling 911 was indeed the right thing to do given the situation. Thanks.
Today I’m learning to give my self permission to rest when I’m tired, to say “No” when I need to, like when the kids want all their friends to come over here, to be angry at things that make me angry, instead of pushing them away or inside or whatever. And then to let them go. I have to constantly pry my fingers open, to accept whatever comes, examine it, feel it, and then let it go. Hard medicine when you’re a control freak.
I’m knitting socks. I think I’m addicted to knitting socks. It looks so hard, but is really quite easy once you get the hang of the double-pointed needles. You just keep going around and around, no thought required, which is a good thing during fibro flares because thinking becomes next-to-impossible to do.
As a matter of fact, I’m having trouble concentrating on what I’m writing here now.
I think I’ll go knit.