Heat Wave and Disappointments

Ugh. That is the word of the day. It’s hot, we are having a heat wave this weekend. Highs in the 30C area, at night it’s about 15-20C. Wreaks havoc with my chronic illness. The kids had a rough week, the older is still having sleeping/eating/meltdown issues as well as teething (he lost his first tooth and the adult tooth replacing it is coming in fast), the younger is teething and growing so eating and waking a lot. My Mom brought me her old mobility scooter now that we’ve moved and have the space to store it, that’s been very helpful. It helped me get out to see her yesterday for her birthday. It’s now been a week since my surgery, healing is slow as I expected it to be (there’s a whole post in the works for that). I’m having issues getting up and down the stairs today. We got a good walk in though to loosen things up. There is a family gathering tonight that I completely forgot about that we aren’t going to. This has upset people greatly. I hate how taking care of myself leads to unhappiness and disappointment in others, let alone myself. I’m enjoying the time with my husband and kids today but I’m really unhappy about people being unhappy with me for taking care of myself. Well they aren’t unhappy with me personally, at least I hope not. Just sad about the situation. Thing is this same person gives me crap for not getting enough rest and self care and whatnot. Just feels like I can’t make anyone happy, least of all myself.
I’m seriously considering medication for depression again. Probably Wellbutrin since it will help with the smoking. I also need something for my Fibromyalgia, and need to discuss my worsening joint pain and such. My rheumatologist moved my May appointment to August. It will be almost a year between appointments. I am not pleased with my current quality of care. I can’t even find a family doctor close to my new home, I don’t think finding a new rheumatologist is going to be any easier. I need a vacation from life or something. 

Fear and Loathing

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So I shared this meme today on my Facebook page. An acquaintance asked why do it then, as in why hate my body. I answered that I can’t help it sometimes. I’ve waxed all philosophical about it and decided I needed to write an actual blog post about it. As the title alludes to, there is a lot of fear and loathing involved in my relationship with my body. It’s never been an overly healthy thing. That’s the toss up for hopping out of the womb three months early and surviving, I guess. I caught pneumonia for the first time at one week old. For all the sickness I had as a child, none of it was a disability. My body generally worked, my immune system was just crappy. I think I was seven or eight the first time my knees started to ache. Younger for the first angry colon/bladder incidents. It still wasn’t until I was thirteen or fourteen where things really started to fall apart. I remember trying out for track and field at my new elementary school, having just moved to Surrey. As I sprinted across the field, fully expecting my legs to piston as always regardless of pain, the first real fear moment struck. It didn’t hurt a lot, my knee just refused to take my weight, and into the gravel I went. It would take a few years of debilitating knee pain for the loathing to start. When your body hurts every day, for no particular reason, you eventually start feeling pissy with it. This acquaintance, like a lot of people who don’t live with chronic pain, says I always have a choice in how I view my body. In reality, I really don’t. Chronic illness and pain do a number on the brain chemistry. So while sometimes I can pull myself out of the more, a lot of the time I can’t.