Best free, non-medical distractions for pain include kitten videos on Instagram, blasting sore muscles with warm water from a high-pressure showerhead, research-that-leads-to-hope, and flirting.
Best free, non-medical distractions for pain include kitten videos on Instagram, blasting sore muscles with warm water from a high-pressure showerhead, research-that-leads-to-hope, and flirting.
If it seems like I’ve given up, that’s not true.
I’m exploring all the regular stuff (medication, therapy, extra rest, a new mattress) alongside less typical treatments like dynamic neural retraining, placebo meditation, Acceptance and Commitment therapy, warm water therapy.
It’s been hard to blog because I can’t seem to think about anything else lately other than how crummy I feel. Even when I try to write about something else, something fun, it only reminds me that I have no energy for it. In some ways I am being reminded of the summer of … oh, 2006 maybe? When I had no energy. That was due to Luvox, an OCD med, and it was terrible-terrible-terrible, but it didn’t last forever.
I know that chronic means ongoing, but I am excited about all the different opportunities to work toward health. And I do not forget that miracles happen. I am in a weird season, I know, and I thank you for hanging in there with me.
My brother is getting married a week from today– it should be a lot of fun. I rented the most gorgeous dress, all navy blue and sequins, and I’ll be reading a poem I’ve written for the bride and groom. The writing conference a couple weekends ago was lovely and life-giving, so delicious to be in the presence of creative believers. I’ve been enjoying inspirational videos online too and wanted to share the one below with you. I’ll warn you that the music is a bit annoying, but the various speeches will give you so much strength!
Prufrock’s Spoons
by Jackie Lea Sommers & T.S. Eliot
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.
And so have I.
Not enough spoons for a week like this one.
Not enough for this month, this year.
This is our unit of measurement,
me,
J. Alfred,
or maybe Eliot himself,
the tired ones everywhere
who use the word chronic to describe
something unseen.
flare
verb
to suddenly burn or shine brightly
flare
noun
an exacerbation of a chronic disease
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Can’t write much today because my wrists have been in pain for almost 24 hours now. Just trying to rest: pared down my to-do list to just three things, this blog post being one of them. Earlier today, I would not have been able to type it out. This evening, I am a little better.
I want to shine bright, make a difference, be a leader in thought and action. Sometimes it can feel so impossible with a body that feels like a leaky bucket: hard to store up energy when the most mundane things seem to leech power. Some days I feel like a rag that has been wrung out.
I know I am blessed with resources, privileged: I can afford pain meds and peppermint oil, my employer works with me and not against me, I have a support system that could make a king envious.
So, somehow, I get to do both. I get to flare up in multiple ways. Perhaps not at the same time.
But then again, with all I’ve learned of vulnerability: maybe so.
Photo by Blake Cheek on Unsplash