Fibronaut At Home

At Least We’re Still Laughing

Today, my husband told me, “Your brain is so entertaining.”  He made this comment after I asked him, “Is there still traffic ahead?”  What I meant was, “Is there still construction ahead?”  I knew I wasn’t using the correct word, but my mouth just spits out whatever, like it’s too impatient for my brain to catch up.

I just had a wrong number phone call.  I told her, “You have the incorrect number.”  I kind of said it slowly, because I knew that wasn’t what I’d usually say and I knew it would sound funny, but I couldn’t come up with the word “wrong”.  Come on brain!  Wake up and use the correct words, please.

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Fibro Fog Theory

I have a theory that the term fibro fog is really just a fibromyalgia-specific way of saying brain fart.  Fibro fog is just one brain fart after another.

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Driving

I feel like a failure.  I hate to say that, but I really wanted to be able to take my kids to lunch with their Daddy today, and I’m not because I hurt too bad and I know that I wouldn’t be able to drive that far and sit through lunch and then drive back.  Twenty miles doesn’t seem like it’s that far until you have muscle spasms in your legs that could potentially cause you to speed ahead when you mean to brake.  Or you have so much pain in your knees or hips or ankles that you are driving with one leg.  Suddenly you have a Fibro-fog brain fart that is so intense that when the light turns green, you rev your engine (Don’t worry.  You’re in park because you can’t hold your foot on the brake that long so you put it into park at every red light) instead of pressing your brake to take your car out of park.  Or your arms, hands or shoulders hurt so bad that you can barely grip the steering wheel, let alone turn it and even holding your arms up for that long of a drive, even if it is practically a straight shot and all you do with your arms is navigate a straight line and put the car in and out of park.  Or your neck muscles have such bad spasms that you have a headache and you can’t turn your head from side to side to even back out of your driveway.  Your feet hurt so bad that pressing the pedals feels like you’ve got tacks in your shoes.  Your Fibro-fogged brain is zoning out on the cows and the farm houses and the trees and whatever else catches your eye.  Distracted driving?  You bet.  Then somebody calls you or texts you.  You don’t answer, they become worried and they call again.  A month or so ago I was driving to a doctor’s appointment and my Dad kept calling me to make sure I was doing okay and I probably snapped at him and said something rude like “I can’t drive if you keep calling me.  Stop calling me!”

I know that it isn’t my fault that I have fibromyalgia or that I have all this pain but I hate disappointing my kids all the time.  Sometimes  I go along with whatever we’re doing even though I hurt, just so I have the experience.  Maybe I hurt, but I still get to witness all my family’s joy.  I’ve always been more of a spectator and I’ve never really had a problem with it.  For me, my driving is a safety issue.  I have to look at the broader view and if I already hurt, driving is not going to make that any better.  I think my kids understand because they didn’t seem too upset about not meeting Daddy for lunch but sometimes they say they’re okay and later, it all comes out.  Since I decided to blog about this, my legs have been under the heated blanket with a heating pad on my knees.  My legs feel better now (although I haven’t tried walking yet) but even though I have my arms propped up, my neck hurts and I’m getting painful spasms from my neck all the way down to my finger tips.  It’s a good thing I’m pretty much done here, because my body can’t handle one more minute.  Fibro-fighters unite!

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