Exhaustion, nausea and pain…oh my!

I guess it was a combination of events that did me in today.

1) I went out to lunch.  In public.  For two hours.

2) I went to a wedding.  In cowboy boots, about an hour away from my house.

3) My dose of methotrexate went up by 2.5 mg (because the uveitis in my left eye isn’t clearing up).

4) And I helped to clear the way so that newer furniture could be moved into my living room.

Probably doesn’t sound like much to the average person, but to me, it resulted in severe pain and sleeping for 13 hours today.  And I will probably go back to sleep earlier than intended tonight.

I try so hard to live within my new reality.  But even when trying to live within those boundaries, I am still met with exhaustion and pain, it can  be disheartening.

I don’t see anything I could have done differently with lunch.  My cousin and his wife are expecting a baby, and our family is having the shower for them.  I am in charge of decorations.  I made my own wedding bouquet (before my hands rebelled in pain), so I feel fairly confident I can do a few nice things for the shower.

Yes, I could have worn more sensible shoes to the wedding.  But it was an outdoor wedding, and the ground was soft, and heels weren’t a much better option.  And my wardrobe is severely limited these days due to the weight gain brought on by the steroids.

Both being out in public for lunch and a wedding in the same day?  Now that is apparently asking for too much from my poor body.  We were home at 9:30, I was in bed by 10:30.  I didn’t party all night (ha!), I didn’t drink alcohol.  I didn’t even get to dance with my husband (I danced a little bit with my daughter).  Still, my body hated it.

Then I came home and gave it more methotrexate.  That’s where the nausea came in.  No vomiting, just more sensation of wanting to throw up all those wedding treats.  Yuck.

And Sunday.  Day of rest, right? Ha!

A friend of ours has recently downgraded to a smaller place, and was getting rid of her couches, which were nicer than our mismatched, tore up, used as a kitty scratch post, set.  So we had it all set with trucks and friends and the owner of said furniture.  Of course I couldn’t help with actual lifting.  I helped with clearing my old bookshelf (which had to go), moving my coffee tables, cat and child wrangling.

Most days after I do a dose of methotrexate, I do not move.  It is near impossible.  I pushed through that sensation of concrete, and literally had to order my limbs to work.  I stumbled around a lot, grabbed on to walls, but it got done.

And this morning.  My daughter’s school bus gets here at the crack of dawn.  But now it was at least light outside, so I didn’t feel like I was sending her to school in the middle of the night.  I woke up for 20 minutes to help and get her ready and then crashed once she was at school, and after I took some tramadol.

And I didn’t wake up until 2 p.m..  And I woke up in pain.  A hot shower helped to take the edge off.  I detest taking any kind of pain medication stronger than Tylenol when I am responsible for anything (my child, patients, etc) so I am currently waiting on my husband to get home from work tonight at 9 p.m. so I may take another tramadol.

Lately, the pain is in the joints.  And I have been off of the omeprazole for nearly a week now.  Pain in my knees, hips, shoulders, elbows and fingers.  Especially in my hips.  This morning when I was contemplating writing a post, I thought it impossible.  The pain was that bad.  It’s starting to get that way again.

I would like to see my  husband during my waking hours today.  But seeing that his Philadelphia Eagles are once again putting on a stellar performance, this time in front of the nation on Monday Night Football, maybe that isn’t such a good idea.

So, new lessons learned.  It’s more of a combination of things that contribute to the pain/nausea/exhaustion triangle.  And once again, “pushing through it” might work well for fibro (even then its iffy), but it will destroy me with this disease.

Like I’ve said in earlier posts, it took me a good three years to learn my limits with fibro.  Learning them the hard way.  And I still hold out that hope that I will miraculously get better.  That I will wake up one morning and have energy, not be in pain, and be able to see and think clearly.  I have been holding on to that hope for almost 5 months.

Positive thinking:  this  election season will be over tomorrow. Hopefully.  We all remember what happened 12 years ago.

Wait, that was supposed to be positive.  Ok, well, yesterday while cuddling, my husband and I were talking about how happy we are together.  Even though it seems like things are caving in on us.  We barely made rent, we are having difficulty purchasing food, things are pretty dire right now.  But we were able to lay there and talk about the positives.  That we love each other, we are happy together, our kids are healthy, we have a roof over our heads, and that we do have food to eat, even though it isn’t 100% what we would prefer to eat right now.

Most couples crack in times like these.  My previous marriage failed during a time like this (actually in a more stable time than this).  I am so fortunate to have him as my partner.  Yes, it gets dicey, but at the end of the day, we can count our blessings.

That is a big positive.

 

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