So I have a few chronic ailments that give me occasional pain flares. One of them is fibromyalgia and another is hypothyroidism. I’m also going through menopause right now, so that doesn’t help at all, neither does the asthma. I have a few other issues, but those are the biggies. Anyway, my point is that from time to time my body says to me, “I’m gonna hurt right now, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” And I will be in pain for hours, sometimes weeks. Want to know something, dear reader? Pain is exhausting! Even if I’m able to schlep myself out of bed and go through the motions of living a quasi-normal life, it drains the energy out of me.
Some people like to use the spoon theory to explain how this works. Follow the link for a full explanation for that, but I never could reconcile myself to the spoon theory. The long and short of the theory is that people with debilitating disorders only have so much energy in a day, and for everything we do — from getting out of bed to deciding what to make for dinner — we use up a that energy (one spoon) and once the energy is gone, that’s it. We’ve run out of spoons for the day. Which is mostly true, but I guess my energy works differently than the author of the spoon theory. I mean, I often wake up tired and have enough spark to get ready for the day. Then I’ll rest and in a few hours I’ll be ready to, say, do the dishes or something. Rest some more and I might work myself up enough to do the laundry (or something). What I’m saying is, I don’t use my “spoons.” I reserve them. I guess? Like I said, it doesn’t mesh with me. Then some days I bounce out of bed and I’m like “clean all the things!” and off I go until I drop. But I don’t wake up thinking “Okay I have this amount of energy, so I need to plan my day carefully so I don’t run out of energy too soon.” Like, that never happens. And that’s the spoon theory, that we only have so many “spoons” to use so we have to plan carefully as to not spend them wastefully. I suck at planning, even if it’s from one moment to the next. Which is why this blog is so… erratic sometimes. Ha! But I digress.
Right now, dear reader, I’m fatigued because I’ve just gone through two pain flares, one right after the other. The first was a pretty bad costochondritis flare caused by my fibromyalgia. That went on for about a little over a week, and it hurt to do just about anything — breathe, move my arms, type. You name it, it hurt. Excedrin(TM) helped a bit, but damn, it’s tiring to not be able to move. Costochondritis, for those who didn’t follow the link, mimics a heart attack. My chest hurt like the dickens for over a week. It sucked rocks. And there’s always that niggling doubt in the back of my mind, “What if this isn’t costochondritis? What if it’s a heart attack? Maybe I should go to a doctor?” Like, every time. But I know it’s not a heart attack because I’ve been to the doctor and I’ve had this on and off again for decades, but when it comes to chest pain, it’s worrying. You know? So anyway, the costochondritis finally stopped, and all was well and good in Willowtown until I got stupid and ate a lot of fatty and high sugar foods — because reasons… My IBS-C let me know really quick that that was a very bad idea. Trapped gas is excruciating, y’all, especially when paired with constipation. So yeah, I was in a lot of pain for a couple of days while all that crap worked its way out of my system. My own fault to be sure, but still quite painful. And now I’m flipping wiped out.
The weird part it, I can’t sleep at night. I’ve lay down on my bed the last two nights just trying to fall asleep and not been able to for hours. Normally I’m in bed and asleep by 11PM or midnight-thirty at the latest. The last couple of nights I’ve looked at the clock and it’s 1AM. Like, WTF, body? You’re exhausted, go to sleep! But no, it just won’t. And I’m not even lying awake worrying about anything in particular, I just won’t sleep. Like, last night, I was wondering if it was too late to plant corn. It is, in case you’re wondering. But still. The soil in my yard isn’t ready for planting. It won’t even be close until next year. I can’t plant corn. Go to sleep, brain!
Blah. Lack of sleep + exhaustion leads to incoherent rambling. Thanks for listening.