After being diagnosed with Fibromyalgia only two short months ago, I'm still trying to juggle the guilt I feel when I see the difficult mood swings my new husband has to put up with, whilst also trying to overcome the interruption of pain and fatigue to continue with my goal of becoming a published author within the next five years. Let me give you an idea of a typical morning.

I wake up from my nightly "death sleep" that

<u>Torso and Limbs</u>

<u>General Mental State</u>
Fed up but still ticking: check;

Well, everything seems to be normal anyway. I give myself another few minutes to get ready. I miss not dreaming anymore, if I do, I don't remember them. I've gotten some of my best material from weird dreams. Now, though, there's only a black void when I sleep, it's the price I pay to be able to sleep at all. Before taking the Cyclobenzaprine, I used to toss and turn all night through. Now I sleep without dreams; that's life.

Anyway, it's time for the fun to begin; time to start moving. I wriggle or roll my way to the edge of the bed--which ever is less painful. Standing up is like some comedy act you've seen where the sidekick has legs that won't bend and they stick out off the edge of the bed. Ok, I'm upright, now comes the fun of shuffling into the bathroom to take care the bad taste in my mouth and the other usual 'business' that can also be painful from the intermittent cystitis.

Now onto my favorite part, sitting on the couch with my "hubby" and having morning coffee and breakfast (usually cereal). The morning is one of the few times throughout the day or night that we get to spend a few intimate moments together. We can snuggle and talk about the day ahead or anything else I need reminding about. I am thankful everyday, that I have Carlos in my life. His ability to put up with my ongoing pain and anguish still amazes me whenever I think about it. We got married on December 31, last year. I received my diagnosis on January 15. This is not exactly how one imagines spending the first six months of their newly married lives. The fact that he seems to have more tolerance for my lack of sex, sleep, emotional control and chronic pain, than I do, is exactly why I love him.

After breakfast, there's the daily task of taking the handful of pills; this so I don't feel as much pain as I surely would if I didn't. A quick glance to make sure I didn't forget any when I filled up the pillbox last week. Let's see, there are three arthritis-strength Tylenol tablets (1950mg), Mobic (15mg daily for pain), Lyrica (150mg twice daily for pain), a calcium tablet and two regular multi-vitamin tablets. If it's a Sunday or Wednesday, then there's an additional five vitamin D pills (that's 50,000 units per week). A deficiency in vitamin D seems to be another commonality amongst fibro-sufferers. Along with tender points, general "flu" type body aches and pains, low blood pressure and the sort of fatigue that you get when you've run the Boston marathon the day before.

If you want to try to understand what a fybro-sufferer feels like on most days, imagine having the aches and pains of flu (without the cold or fever) for a month straight. Then add to that, areas on the surface of your skin that feel like they are one giant bruise, or worse, the stinging "sunburn" sensation that pops up out of nowhere for no reason. Imagine that sitting in a particular position, no matter how comfortable the chair, will feel like sitting on rocks within a half hour or so. For some sufferers, there is light and sound sensitivity; and I mean sensitivity (remember the earplugs at the beginning). Now, imagine an equalizer, like the one on a stereo. The equalizer, and more specifically, the sliders on it, all measure the different symptoms one can have. Imagine that on any given day, at any given moment, the settings are all different. Some higher, some lower, but always some variation, and always different.

Now someone asks you to explain what Fibromyalgia is, and specifically where it hurts. This is why we sufferers all return the same dumb, exasperated look when the question comes up. We dread answering it, we really do; and don't even get me started on how fast "How are you feeling?" starts to become annoying.

Lastly, like a cherry on the top of a disastrous cake, there's the intermittent "brain fog". Like when I'm talking to my husband, and I loose track of the conversation mid-sentence and repeat this insipid behavior two or three sentences in a row. Even worse, when I open a drawer to take out a pair of socks only to stop and stare at them for 30 seconds because I'm trying to remember what it is I'm going to do with them. Keep in mind, that I'm 35 years old. How well do you think you could mentally focus on anything if you had this annoying, aching, throbbing pain constantly irritating you, like an itch that you can't ever scratch away? Depression is undoubtedly an inevitable side effect, but also serves as a trigger.

Sound like some sort of bizarre nightmare? Well, according to an article from The Journal of Rheumatology, Fibromyalgia is "a common chronic pain condition that affects at least 2% of the adult population in the USA and other regions in the world where FM is studied..." So forgive me if I don't handle the cajoling and ribbing that "non-believers" sometimes deal out.

Yet, with all of this going on, I manage to sit here and maintain my concentration long enough to be able to write. The truth is that writing is oftentimes a sanctuary from the pain. The imagination is one of the greatest mental abilities that humans possess. There is no pain that can compete with the throws of a torrid love affair, or steal away the fever of a plot filled with intrigue and deception. The colors of a rainbow, that a hero must cross to reach a faraway land and foil a horrifying monster, cannot be diminished by this never-ending fatigue. Nor will the insidious evil that is wielded by a villain over an innocent child, be punished any less when justice is finally brought forth.

As long as there is a world filled with torrid love affairs, as long as there is intrigue and deception, as long as there are rainbows to be crossed, or villains in need of justice, I will seek refuge by toiling away at the words on a page that may provide a momentary solace from the pain.

About the Author

Born and rasied in England, I moved to South Florida in 1982 at the age of 12. Recently diagnosed with fibromyalgia I am working on a Young Adult novel and have a picturebook out for submission. Interested in writing children's novels, picturebooks and educational tools. Article writing includes health, fibromyalgia, computers, gambling, travel and personal relationships.

For more articles, visit my website at www.thewritersquery.com