... but this, too, shall pass.
I hope.
That's what I call them, anyway.
Unidentified Fibro Ouches
It's my code word for unfamiliar pain attacks from the fibromyalgia that I've dealt with for the past dozen years.
(Seriously? Can it be that long? What a perfect waste of a decade.)
I don't yak much about the royal pains here in Blog Land for a variety of reasons. For one thing, I would rather folks leave this place uplifted and smiling. There's not all that much uplifting about daily pain updates. For another, giving blog time to the thing might make it start to define me. It's part of me, true, but I refuse to give it the victory of becoming all of me.
I'm multifaceted, you know...like a diamond. A diamond in the rough perhaps, but a diamond nonetheless.
The day I got the diagnosis, I was so grateful that I would have done cartwheels had the doctor's office had the space and I had the skill. You see, my dad was in his final stages of cancer at the time. Considering the pain I was in, I had become convinced that I had some C-word of my own and that it had spread all the way to my earlobes.
My doctor told me that cancer phobia was not uncommon. Not to worry, he said. What I had didn't start with the letter C. It started with the letter F. And then he said something else.
You won't die from it, but you will live with it.
So that's exactly what I do.
Generally speaking, my particular brand of The Beast behaves as expected. I won't yak about that. If you'd like information, you can click any one of the 24,728 random sites on the internet.
Periodically, though, I get an attack of alien pains in unfamiliar territory. Those are the UFOs.
When that happens, I have to wait it out and manage them it for a reasonable amount of time to see if it, too, shall pass. I've learned not to share symptoms when this happens. Inevitably, someone listening has a great uncle who died of just such symptoms due to a rare condition which needs to buy a vowel.
I'm highly suggestive. I don't need the suggestion.
I said all that to say this: I've been struggling for a while with some UFOs. Oddly enough, they seem to get much worse when I'm at the computer, specifically, the keyboard. (Is that you, God?) I thought the problem might be one of ergonomics. My desk, I discovered, is two inches higher than the husband's desk, and my chair is two inches shorter.
It's also much cuter, but I digress.
I've tried moving my work space around, but so far it hasn't helped. So.... for just a little while I'm going to be curtailing keyboard time to see if that helps. I have a few projects that I would l like to finish around here so I'll use some different muscles instead.
We're currently exercising our tablescaping muscles too. I'm hoping that after a few days rest, I'll be fit as a fiddle. Until then ...
*****
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just in case someone can't resist the urge to tell me about her
great uncle's keyboard cancer.
