Possum Shopping

Today was highly amusing for me. It isn't often that my husband and I get to take a day to just go enjoy each other's company. We drove into town this afternoon to have lunch and do some window shopping...at least, that's what I thought we were doing until I realized that my husband had ulterior motives.
To know why I was/am so amused, you first have to understand my husband. I have loved this man for going on 20 years. I have always thought that God gave him too much testosterone. His mission in life is to provide and protect. He may as well have those two words tattooed on his forehead. He is all about God, Family and Country.
To give you a clearer picture, this is a man who takes great pride in his work. He can build anything and wants it done right the first time. When he hunts, he refuses to sit in a tree stand, preferring to stalk and track his prey. I have had two stalkers in the past 20 years (This was ten years ago). My husband followed one of them home one day after catching him driving slowly past our house. He walked right into that man's house and....let's just say that man stopped stalking me after that day. He's an all around country boy and a man of few words unless he's railing against the injustice that is happening in the world today. I do understand why he gets so upset with the state of our country right now. If something interferes with his instinct to provide for and protect his family, it sets him on edge. I love him for it.
I, on the other hand, am goofy, soft hearted and an animal lover. This past summer we had more than our fair share of unwanted kitties dumped on our property, usually in the middle of the night. There for a while, I would wake up to a new hungry, scared and confused fur baby every morning. At one point, we were up to 13 and my husband would go on and on about how I needed to find them homes. I found those homes as fast as I could but I wasn't going to let them go hungry in the meantime, though my husband complained constantly.
A Lavender Pointe Siamese (according to the vet) female was dumped at our house and she was pregnant....I heard about that for five weeks but since I am fully aware that other than his Mother, I am the only person he has ever backed down for, I just let him cuss under his breath and ignored it because I knew that placing Siamese babies would be a snap. She had five kittens and once they were weaned and wormed, I put them up for adoption and just like I thought, they found homes very quickly. Finally we were down to the last kitten, a little boy and I took his picture and told my husband that I was going to put the baby online the next day. The man had a melt down! It was like watching a two year old. He actually yelled at me, "You're not getting rid of my Possum!" At first, I wasn't sure who he was talking about because there were more kitties outside but then he put 'his' Siamese kitten in our bed and told me that this is his kitten and he had named him Possum.
I don't think 'shock' is a strong enough word. My hunny has never taken to a cat before. This cat, however, now has a special place in our bed, he has to eat special food (for no other reason than my husband wants him too) and what was supposed to be window shopping, lunch and time together today turned into Possum shopping. Again. This is the third time this month!
This kitten gets excited when Daddy comes home. He runs to him and puts his paws up to be held and my husband lights up to be welcomed home that way....apparently, I am now chopped liver. Today our afternoon together turned into a mission to buy Possum the perfect scratching post and a Christmas stocking. I still can't believe this big, strong, man shops for this kitten like it's his child. It cracks me up because it's something I would do. I must be rubbing off on the man. Anyway, after three stores, we finally found the right scratching post but we couldn't find a stocking that is just the right size. Fortunately, my husband did find two tinkle balls that Possum 'just has to have', another round, plastic toy that has a tinkle ball permanently stuck inside so the poor cat can make himself crazy by NEVER getting it out, a bag of 'special treats' and more of his special food. I had to run to the furniture section of the store in a hurry to laugh behind my husband's back when he began digging through the pet sweaters, trying to find Possum's size. Luckily for Possum, they didn't carry his size.
The point to my telling you about our day is this....it's the little things that make a life. It's the smallest things that bring a person joy. Sure, there are those big moments that make our hearts swell and bring tears to our eyes but those things don't come everyday. What do are the small things; a beautiful sunrise, an afternoon with a loved one, a good meal and the love between a big, strong, man and his kitten.
Chronic illness brings stress. Add to that financial stress, work stress and family stress and it can all combine to rob you of your joy - if you let it. Today I could have said, "No. I hurt like crazy. I don't want to go to one more store." and my husband would have taken me home without question. Rather than do that, I took in my husband's devious grin and allowed myself to enjoy the moment of joy I had been given. Even on my worst day of pain, I can find something to make me smile. I believe that even with chronic pain, we were put here to do more than just survive this life. I look for those moments of joy, those moments when I snort through my nose, trying to hold in the laughter while I run to the furniture department to keep from laughing AT (not with) my husband.
Be aware of the moments that make you smile through out the day and before you go to bed at night, add them up. The more you focus on what is right in your life, the less intimidating all of those other stresses seem to be. They shrink in the face of joy so keep your eyes open for it and you'll notice, they happen more often than you realized.

                                                                           Possum

What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stranger

I have a love/hate relationship with our bed. I love that it is so warm but I hate the mattress with a passion. When we bought it a year ago, it was on sale and we thought we were getting an amazing deal but six months later, the beautiful king size Serta pillow top turned on us.
The pillow top collapsed and the spots where we lay sunk, allowing the springs to spring up into our spines. After the umpteenth time that I wrestled with it to turn it so the lumps would even out, I noticed a minuscule sticker on the back of the 'Do Not Remove This Tag' tag that stated in all of it's ant print glory that the stupid thing had been a 'return' and we had not been informed of this before we bought it. Had I caught that tiny sticker in the first six months, we could have returned it but alas, my rebellious side had not kicked in and I had not removed the 'Do Not Remove' tag. For the time being, I have folded three fluffy blankets and piled them on top of one another to fill the body shaped hole on my side of the bed. My husband can sleep anywhere and through anything. I hate him just a little bit for that.
It's hard enough to get comfortable in that bed but when the weather takes a drastic turn and brings cold temperatures and rain, sleep with Fibro becomes impossible. Cold weather changes bring out the boogie men, not man, because he always brings friends. So rather than wake my slumbering husband, I got up and moved.
I swept the floors. I stretched. I brushed the dogs and clipped their nails - I can't say they really appreciated that at four o'clock in the morning but chronic pain requires movement. Yes, it hurts to move and I know that many, many people with chronic pain are afraid to move because movement hurts but here's the thing.....remaining still hurts worse.
Movement warms the muscles and loosens the trigger points and while it won't make the bad weather go away and it certainly won't make that mattress any more comfortable, it will help me get through the worst part of the pain.
I am fully aware that a crash is coming after last night's no rest fest but I can minimize the damage by moving and hydrating and that is my message to you this morning. Sometimes you absolutely know that a flare has packed it's bags and is on it's way for a visit but you get to decide if it is moving in or just staying for a short, don't bother to unpack, visit.
Before my unwelcome guest fully arrives, I intend to get some work done. Then, luckily for me, I prepared a months worth of meals this past weekend and put them in the freezer just in case the weather took a cold turn. Now all I have to do is pop one in the crock pot and when I crash this afternoon, my family will still get a healthy, home cooked meal.
Chronic illness can be managed. By pushing through that initial pain through gentle movement and planning for unexpected or expected flares, you'll give your body exactly what it needs to recover more quickly than you would have if you had remained still.
I will be posting my favorite make ahead crock pot recipes soon so that you can give them a try. They have saved my family from eating cheap take-out on more than a few occasions, something we are all thankful for. I also see a new mattress on the horizon, something I will be incredibly thankful for! In the mean time, I'll be hanging out in my footie pajamas, watching cartoons. It's just that kind of day.

and all the King's horses and all the King's men...

I have been processing new information and listening to the tumblers click loudly into place. The saying, 'Things are not always as they seem' now holds a whole new meaning for me.
I grew up in a version of Dante's Inferno. I'm not complaining and I don't need your pity, it was my normal. It's just the way things were, though I never knew why the adults around me had built the inferno and forced us to live within it's walls....until recently.
I escaped. Not unscathed, mind you, but intact enough to see the madness for what it was and run the other direction. I knew what I did not want to be and became the kind of person that I wanted to surround myself with. That person was always inside me, I just couldn't let her out until I had escaped.
I have spent my adult years working every day to be a better person than I was the day before. I like it that way. There is always room for self improvement and setting a good example for our children. As an adult, even though there have been hardships, I have been blessed, but the greatest lesson I think I have learned is to take responsibility for myself.
Every word, decision, thought and action stem from choices that I make every moment of every day. No one can make me do anything. It's all on me. I alone own it. I alone am responsible for it. I like it that way too.
I have fought in my adult years to turn around and face my demons. I am aware that as I face each one, no matter how painful, they will no longer hold sway over my life and when I finally stand before God, I will do so with a clean conscience. I hope.
Someone once said that childhood is a thing that we survive. I survived mine and have spent a great deal of time picking up the pieces. Many of those pieces never fit into place. I didn't know it, but I had never seen the picture on the puzzle box so there was no way for me to put the pieces where they belong.
I never knew why, but three different times in my life, older relatives who were facing death apologized to me. One said, "I am so sorry that I never spoke up. You didn't deserve that." Another said, "I wish I had stepped in but I was afraid and I am ashamed of that. Will you forgive me?" One more said, "We all knew what was happening to you but it was a time that you just didn't get involved in a family's affairs. I should have, you were such a sweet little girl and I am sorry that I didn't help you."
I thought that all of these people were only referring to the abuse. I had no idea there was more to the story but 24 hours ago, someone that I barely know, who is also facing death, showed me the whole entire picture on the puzzle box and now all of those extra pieces are fitting into place.
It is a lot to absorb, listening to each tumbler click into place. I now understand that the Inferno was built long before I was born. I was just one more generation born within the flames. I was shown the lives that were destroyed by those who built the Inferno and those who, like me, were fortunate enough to escape but still carry the scars from the flames.
One thing that I will carry with me, even after all of the new information has fully sunk in and I am able to come to terms with the blackness that resides in the hearts of those who feign innocence is this; no matter who you are, no matter what has happened to you, no matter who has harmed you, YOU are the only person responsible for your actions. We each make hundreds of choices a day. Those choices should always, no matter what, reflect who you are as the person you strive to be. Good, bad or indifferent, you are the only person responsible for your choices. You don't get to blame someone else.
So make your choices and then own them. If you harm someone, own that too and make it right. If your choices cause good in another person's life, you get to feel good about that too.
We each owe a death in the end and whether you believe you will stand before God or just turn to dust, all you have left behind is the choices that you made and the lives that you either helped or harmed. How will you be remembered?

Getting Naked

It's not what you think. Getting naked. It's more like being willing to admit something that too many people are ashamed of. Having OCD.
OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) is just a part of my day. I laugh about it but it can sometimes be annoying. I do know people who are so completely serious about the fact that they have OCD that you can't even crack a grin about having it yourself around them without them being offended. I have actually been lectured by another person with OCD because she felt that I do not take it seriously enough and she found nothing funny about it. I told her to take a chill pill. She doesn't speak to me anymore. If you know me, you know that cracks me up. It reminds me of The Joker, "Why-so-serious?"
OCD is a serious disorder for many people and there are medications (aren't there always?) to help control the symptoms but I just let it fly. I understand why I am obsessive compulsive. I remember when it started. It was during my 'childhood' when counting was the only semblance of control that I had. I counted everything; cars that we passed, brick buildings, the tips of my fingers over and over and over again, leaves on flower stems. After a while, it became important to me to know the number. Always. How many leaves did that flower stem have? How many times could I count my finger tips in an hour? I realized all by myself when I was twelve that counting wasn't helpful. It did not stop the bad things from happening to me so I only had a false sense of control. That realization led me to do something more productive with that impulse. Reading became my compulsion. I read everything; books, labels, magazines, signs and now the internet! And so my OCD evolved again. Research. I love it and I'm good at it. I have a question, I can find the answer in about a minute. That helps me in my day to day writing but the big deal for me is that I get to learn something new, which I absolutely love!
OCD for me is all about control, even though I am aware that I have none when it comes to the big scheme of things. As I said, it can get annoying. For example, laying in bed at night, toasty warm and ready to fall asleep and my brain whispers, 'Are you absolutely certain that you checked every lock in the house?' I answer myself, "yes." But my brain says, "Are you really sure you didn't miss one? While you're thinking about it, are you certain that every knob on the stove is in the off position?" CRAP! Up I get to check everything for the THIRD time. Never fails. If I don't, I will not sleep. That is all out of a need to keep my family safe. I was not safe as a child and I am compulsive in the extreme about keeping my family safe. So compulsive, that when I learned to shoot, I practiced until I became proficient at one shot, one kill, for two reasons; I hunt and do not want an animal to suffer and two....well, break into my house and find out.
I am compulsive about cleaning. I appreciate the things that we have and want to take care of them but I am also germaphobic and if the house gets cluttered, claustrophobic. My husband appreciates that he lives in a clean environment, the kids, not so much. It's not a museum in here but I am constantly wiping down a surface and disinfecting, both because I have a compromised immune system due to fibro and because I do not want my family getting sick. Here is where that compulsion gets in the way, I can spend the entire day meticulously cleaning just one room and get absolutely nothing else started, much less finished. Then I beat myself up (major anxiety) for not having better time management skills and for not having done the whole  house. On the upside, that room is done and I can move on to the next in a day or two.
I know that for many people OCD is debilitating and medication is required, but for me, though annoying at times, I am aware of it and I have found that I can help it evolve into something productive. Maybe someday I will overcome it, maybe not but it is part of who I am and more often than not, I find it amusing that I'm so anal.
You don't have to hide it if you have OCD and you sure don't have to be so serious about it that you can't laugh at yourself. Sure, there is a stigma but really, who cares? There is a stigma or a label for everything. You don't have to worry about what others think of you. You only have to get to know you well enough to like you and.....if you have a sense of humor, be able to laugh at you. We're all a little cracked and fractured and that's all right because we're all human. One of my favorite quotes (and I don't even remember who said it) is, 'God bless the cracked pots, for it is they who let in the light.' Don't hide you in the dark. Now if you will excuse me, it's time to check the locks.

It's A Beautiful Day In The Neighborhood....

Today has been slow body wise but full mentally. I have done all of the things that need to be done in order to get my body moving. I even forced myself to eat a small breakfast. I am not a breakfast person. I never have been, so it is a fairly big accomplishment to actually eat in the morning.
I am trying to put the weight back on that I lost during the last flair. I officially weigh one hundred and get that girl a cheeseburger so putting the weight back on in a healthy way is one of my short term goals.
I have done my morning stretching and have made certain to stay moving for thirty minutes at a time several times today. If you have Fibromyalgia, CMP or any chronic illness, I recommend heading over to facebook and getting to know my friend Tanya at The Fibromyalgia Five Minute Fitness Challenge. The goal is to start out small and move for five minutes a day. Nothing strenuous, just move. Walking, stretching...whatever you can do and add another minute as you feel you are ready. Some people can only start off with three minutes and work up to five. The point is, with chronic pain, you must move in order to begin to get some of the pain under control. We hold each other accountable to move and the encouragement is second to none. Many people are helped by her page. I often think of Tanya when I just hurt too much to want  to move and then I start moving.
Other than eating a healthy breakfast and getting in some exercise, I have been writing. I have been assigned thirteen articles and I can choose to write them or not. I can choose to write a few or write articles that I come up with on my own and submit for approval.
I can't say I am too pleased with the articles that I have been assigned. I mean, it's money so sure I'll write them but they are all fluff pieces to divert the reader's attention from the important things that are happening in our world and though I do not feel the pieces are beneath me, they are booooorrrring. I could care less who is dating whom and which celebrity is divorcing or who is wearing what and I have absolutely NO interest in writing pieces on refinancing your mortgage in these tough economic time. Yes, I can do the research and write them, and I have been, but it feels like it is sucking the intelligence out of my brain.
I have decided to write what I know and submit it for approval as well as the fluffy bunnies. Yes, we need the money but I am also considering the fact that these articles make up part of my portfolio and who can take you seriously if you are only writing mind numbing fluff?
I know a lot about a little and a little about a lot and the rest I'll have fun researching. I enjoy the research. I get to learn something new and to my mind, that's the coolest thing I can do. That and replace the cells that the bunnies have murdered.
I am thankful to get a paycheck for doing something that I love to do. It's only work when I dislike what I am writing. So I'll keep those to a minimum.
We all have something in our lives, maybe more than one something, that we really love to do. If you can take that talent and turn it into a paycheck, I strongly encourage you to do so. My Grandpa used to say, "If you love what you do, you will never work a day in your life." I agree. If what you do for a paycheck brings you joy, do it! I'm going to go finish up for the day. Today has been a good day!

Quantity vs. Quality

I have been neglecting my blog. There are many reasons for it. Life sometimes gets in the way of the next blog post. I had put together several small articles about healthy eating and gentle exercise before I realized that there is so much information out there that there is really no one way that is right for everyone. I know what is right for me and some of what is right for me is helpful to others but there are so many factors that make up a person's over all health that in the end, all I can really tell you is how I do it. To do otherwise would be narcissistic. So, I think a better approach would just be to let you in on my day to day routine and what I do to manage my health.
I am in the process of climbing back up from a down hill slide with my health. Having Fibromyalgia and CMP is getting on my last nerve! I can be just fine one day and than have the worst flare of my life for the next thirteen, which is what I am fighting to come out of now.
This latest flare has taught me that even if you think that you are doing everything right; eating healthy, exercising, getting enough sleep, staying hydrated, etc. If you have a chronic illness, you have to take the unexpected in stride. Now, let's be honest, saying that and doing it are two different things.
I have a fighter mentality when it comes to my chronic pain and just about everything else. For years I have told myself, 'Just fight a little harder. Get back up!' But recently, I decided to not to.
I'm beginning to think that I have been going about this all wrong. The constant fight is exhausting. I have been so focused on getting well that I am using energy that could be better utilized elsewhere. Quantity of life is nothing without quality of life. If I am only focusing on beating back the pain then I have no time for the things that I love to do but have stopped doing in order to focus on the fight. I am not taking off my gloves but I am going to let my guard down and just go with the flow.
That is something that many of us with chronic illness never learn to do. People either spend their whole lives focused solely on the fight or they give up completely. Many of us never find the happy medium. That in between place where we can not only take care of ourselves but enjoy the life we have been given as well.
Going with the flow for me means that I understand that I have only a small amount of control over these diseases. I can control how I take care of myself. I can control how much exercise I do, the foods I eat, how often I sleep but I can not control when a flare is going to blindside me or how fast scar tissue will build and cause a problem. Rather than putting all of my energy into trying to prevent the next flare from taking me off my feet, I will just continue my daily routine but with a twist. I am going to start doing all of the things that I love to do but have been putting off until I am well. Quality of life.
Yeah, you read that right; I did say until I am well. I'm not giving up the chance of remission. Even if it's only for a little while, but as I am working toward that, I'm going to cut myself some slack and enjoy the little things; art, writing, my family and pets, my friends. It doesn't matter if I can't walk one day or hold a coffee cup the next. I can't stop that from happening but I can stop wearing myself out by fighting my body every day.
When the mind is calm and happy and the spirit is calm and happy, I'm thinking the body will be too. I'm going to find out. I'll keep you posted.