A Day in the Life of the Fibro...

About 2 years I was given an assignment in one of my Master's classes. The assignment was to do something I had never done, totally alone, for at least one hour. I really wasn't sure what I was going to do; I still didn't know when I pulled into a Starbucks (not so nearby) and sat down with java and computer in hand. I figured I would do some sort of writing exercise. Writing for me, is a way to pour out my soul. In a lot of ways, it's a healthy way for me to get it all out.

So, I sat and waited...for awhile. And then it came to me. What could be the most challenging thing for me to write about? What would make me ache as I faced the reality of it all coming out on paper? My dad. So, I just started writing. I sat and spewed out as much as I could, as fast as I could in about 1.5 hours. And eight pages later, it was all out in the open.

It's not that I didn't already know these feelings inside; I had just chosen to never really think about them. At the time, I did everything I could to not think about these things, and I was getting pretty good at it. So to allow myself to mentally and emotionally go there was indeed a challenge. I can't say it changed my life at that moment, not at all really. But, little did I know what the future held for me.

A little over 2 years later, I am sitting here in Zapopan, Mexico, with my hubby as full time missionaries. I've been working with some amazing students here, and challenged them this past week with the same assignment. And I've gotta say, I was impressed. They each challenged themselves, and I trust that they will learn from this experience.

What did I learn? Well, as I prepared to give them this assignment, I found that letter to my dad, and in it said these words: "I am starting a deep change within myself. I am choosing to learn genuine forgiveness, and the amazing power it has within someone. I am ready for that power. I am ready to be free from this anger and frustration." The act of forgiveness didn't come until almost 2 years later, but I believe that this was the starting point of God preparing me for this journey, and I didn't even know it. And now as I look back on it, I realize just how amazing God really is. He allowed me to spit something out on paper, not even really believing it at first. But used it over the course of two years (and probably many more to come) to find freedom in forgiveness.

So I was challenged with this assignment again. Though I don't think this time it will be as life-changing, I still felt a release of freedom and healing that only comes from God. This time, by myself, I confronted my Fibromyalgia. And now I'd like to share it with you...

A Day in the Life of the Fibro…

It’s a lifestyle, really. Not many people would choose it for themselves; it chooses its own victims. It’s an interesting way for the body to communicate; most of the time its speech seems slurred, jumbled, and confused. And just when you think you’ve got it figured out, it throws in something else to baffle even its own existence.

It has a personality all its own, and it’s quite temperamental too. One day, it seems to take its role lightly only to make up for it in the days to follow (from few to many). And it’s the making-up that’s a killer. Headaches, chronic fatigue, pressure build-up in the back and shoulders, tightening of the muscles, trouble with sitting or standing, pain behind the ears, weakness in strength, wrist pain, finger pain, arm pain, loss of energy, restless leg syndrome, irregular stomach functions, depression, asthma, weird tingling and pain in the elbows, irritability, bad posture, chronic back pain, inability to hold anything for long periods of time, lumpy buildup in the arms, loss of sleep, foggy brain function, eye problems, and the list goes on…

So what does a normal day look like? Well, you never really know. One day things are lookin’ up, and the very next, every minute is spent in pain, sometimes debilitating. And one bad day builds onto the next, creating days or weeks of chronic pain. And the greater the pain, the greater the fatigue. Better yet, the greater the fatigue, the greater the pain. It’s a never-ending cycle that seems impossible to stop.

Waking up in the morning seems an impossible task. For most, waking up brings new energy and vigor for the new day. But a day in the life of the fibro is the quite the opposite. Instead of waking up feeling full of energy, it’s as if sleep soaked up all energy with feeble attempts to regurgitate it back out. The body feels as if it just spent 6 vigorous days hiking up Mt. Kilimanjaro, straining to move every muscle. The shoulders, back and head are already wrenching in pain, so much that any task (even that of rolling over or getting out of bed), seems hopeless. But how often do we get to bear the pain of rolling over, without having to bear the even greater pain of getting up and facing the day? Not very often.

A day in the life of the fibro might only consist of 2 symptoms, in comparison to a normal day consisting of anywhere between 5-25 symptoms. And again, if by some chance the day seems to be going well, that is no guarantee for tomorrow. If anything, it brings fear for what the next day may bring. A good moment never stands alone, but always builds onto the moments to follow (whether good or bad).

It’s impossible to schedule anything. Who knows what 12 days from now will be like for a day in the life of the fibro? Who really knows what tomorrow will be like? No one, not even the fibro itself. It’s as if it’s in a constant tug-of-war with itself. It’s even hard to schedule something for later this afternoon.

So how do we go on? Well, it’s not easy by any means. It’s hard to not expect everyone to remember you hurt. You never realize how much you are touched until you can’t handle being touched anymore. Hugging, pulling, wrestling, even lightly touching can bring pain for hours or even days. The chronic fatigue and pain can be so overwhelming, drawing one into a greater depression. So again, how do we go on?

One day at a time, really one minute at a time. And with every good minute, give praise to God. And with every bad minute, pray to God that the next will get better. I only know that He has a plan in all of this, though I may never understand. A small glimpse of His character reminds me that no time is wasted, no experiences useless. Maybe He’s teaching me to recognize the hurt in this world, and to recognize the greater need for His healing. Or maybe it’s even for me to recognize the need for His healing in my own life. Only a small glimpse, but it helps me remember that He really is in control. It doesn’t always make my days any easier, but it reminds me that His purpose will reign, and He is using this for something. So I hope that others can grow closer to Him in their own sufferings, whatever they may be.

For today, I’m thankful that despite the hurt, I am able still able to serve, love, give, move, breathe…one more day to spread His word. Now if I can only live up to His expectations.