Has anyone tried creative visualization? As best as I understand it, focusing on something that you want is supposed to help make it happen. It’s a lot like envisioning how you want your life to be, focusing on that vision, and making it happen.
My visualization of my life has always included sports and outdoor activities. Fibromyalgia has tried very hard to take that vision away. Lately, in part thanks to awesome words from a reader (thanks Stephanie AC), I’m trying creative visualization for the first time. Rather than just imagining something and feeling defeated because it can’t happen, I’m going to imagine it as an attainable reality.
My (hopefully) attainable reality is returning to running. I don’t even have to close my eyes to imagine what it will be like to return to the freedom of moving quickly on my own two feet. Earlier today I drove over the bayou bridge near my house and could almost feel what it would be like to run across that bridge like I did for years. I imagined the salty smell, the hard wind, and the sound of seagulls. I imagined the childlike joy of running so fast down the hill before the bridge that it would feel like flying.
I’m shifting those visions that I’ve always had into energy toward reality rather than disappointment. We’re having almost spring-like weather in northwest Florida right now, and I would love—no, I WILL love to go outside and run in the sun.
I’m curious what you do when you want to do something so bad but you know it’s potentially disastrous for your health. Bottom line—with every fiber of my being I want to return to running, but I’m scared to death of the post-run nighttime pain that made me howl like a wounded animal the last time I ran.
When I see people running, I feel a mixture of hope and bitterness and excitement and disappointment and jealousy. I’m happy for them that they get to experience the joy and challenge of running, but I desperately want to return to one of the last things I had to give up. Soccer is unrealistic. Tennis is probably unrealistic, too. Same with rollerblading. But running was my holdout, the final thing I kept for myself for peace, clarity, adventure, and release.
My internal debate gets more heated every day. I’m walking several miles (and sometimes as many as 5 hours) daily, so it seems like running a few minutes in the midst of all that walking wouldn’t be a big deal. But every time I almost embrace freedom and take off, I think about the way my hips and back felt the night after the last time I ran, and I keep walking instead.
Is there anything you’ve given up for fibromyalgia that you’ve reclaimed? If so, did it come with a price, and is the price worth it?
I’m no stranger to the pitfalls of health insurance, but yesterday I had one of the worst experiences yet with my policy. I pay a huge amount of money every month for coverage in exchange for what appeared on paper to be a solid policy as far as health insurance goes. I changed policies within the same company for the new year to avoid a $300 per month increase in monthly fees, and chose a new policy that seemed very similar with a few minor changes like the deductible and out of pocket max. Then I tried to actually use the policy, and what a hell of a rude awakening.
For starters, it only covers one local hospital—not the one five minutes from my house. It also doesn’t cover the orthopedic institute that I’ve been going to for years for my neck and back issues. I was fuming. I’m guilty of not checking the provider directory before enrolling in the policy, but I assumed that since it’s an expensive policy in the same tier as my former policy (platinum) AND it’s with the same company, I’d be fine. Not even close.
I decided to wait until I got home to deal with the particulars and hopefully change the policy while open enrollment is still active. I stopped by Walgreens to pick up my refill of the only prescription I’m routinely taking—Piroxicam—and was told by the pharmacist that my policy doesn’t contract with Walgreens. What? I asked for details. All he knew was that I’d have to contact the company to figure out where I could actually go to get the medication my doctor prescribed. I went from feeling angry to feeling completely enraged. My expensive health insurance had rapidly become a barrier to my good health.
After a lot of phone calls, I was able to have the prescription transferred to CVS and to cancel my policy and activate a new one effective February 1. But if I’d figured out what a rip-off my insurance was after open enrollment closed, I’d have been screwed by that policy for at least six months. In effect, I would’ve been forced to use a hospital system that I don’t ever want to use. Just because a hospital is covered doesn’t mean I should be forced to use it when I need medical care. I’m so disgusted. For-profit companies that we pay huge monthly premiums to should not have a say in where we go for healthcare and medications, especially when the providers we want to use are in our hometown. My new policy will cost almost $300 more per month just so that I can continue to use doctors I’ve known for years. If there’s a word stronger than disgust, I feel it.
I’ve been a fan of Altra shoes since they first came out and were blocky-looking and virtually unknown. I’ve had every version of the Intuition and three versions of the Lone Peak. I use my Lone Peaks for hiking and will never go back to boots. Until today, my latest pair of Intuitions were the ugliest shoes I’d ever owned, but also some of the most comfortable. They’re crayon pink, similar to Crayola’s carnation, and if they didn’t feel like pillowy heaven I’d never have bought them. For the first time ever in my history with Altra, today I bought a pair of decent-looking shoes. The Intuition 3s that my local running store stocks are coral/blue, and I’m actually excited about how they look rather than just how they feel.
Since looks really don’t matter to comfort and function, of course the ultimate test is how they feel and perform. I bought a size 9.5 despite being a 9 in the second version and an 8.5 in the 1.5 version. I’m not sure if my feet are expanding or if the sizing differences reflect the complaints I’ve read about Altra’s sizing, but it doesn’t bother me. The beauty of shopping locally is being able to try on shoes and go by how they fit rather than a number on a box.
I tried on some Newtons and Sauconys for comparison in the store today, and the Intuition 3 won by a long shot. They’re not as marshmallowy as the 2 and feel more like a responsive running shoe. The laces are much improved over previous versions and are soft and plenty long (the laces on the 2s are woefully short and shoddy). The 3s are lighter and have even less rubber on the outsole compared to the 2s—gone is the rubber from the medial arch.
No more rubber on the outsole under the arch.
I’ve spent the afternoon walking around in my 3s and haven’t had any break-in issues or complaints. They fit great right out of the box, and I have high hopes for their workout performance. The toe box is wide in the tradition of Altra, but the heel is still narrow enough that I don’t feel like I’m walking in moon boots. For people with fibromyalgia and other chronic health issues, the comfort and function of Altra shoes can make a long workday much more doable. It’s amazing how good your feet can feel when your shoes aren’t deforming them.
I’ve been on a running hiatus for months due to health complications, but I’ve walked a couple of hours or more each runless day in Altras. I’ve wanted to return to running every single day since my health forced me to quit, and I think I might be brave enough to take a few running steps in my new Intuition 3s tomorrow. If not, I hope they serve me as well for walking as their predecessors did. I’ll update this review over time with notes on durability and performance, but the future—at least as far as my shoes are concerned—looks bright.
5. Wash your hands frequently and thoroughly. This seems like a no-brainer, but I stayed well through the entire fall season when a lot of people were sick. I think a lot of my wellness had to do with washing my hands with warm water and soap more often than I wanted to—especially after grocery shopping, checking the mail, and at work.
4. Sleep. Having fibromyalgia or any kind of chronic pain can make sleep very difficult, but do what you can to get as many hours as possible. I’ve taken to sleeping on my camping mattress on the floor with my legs on three pillows. I look ridiculous, but my back hurts less and I’m able to rest.
3. Try herbal supplements and teas. I like spirulina and Counter Attack. They taste bad and require a quick swallow and lots of water, but they make me feel energized. I also like Throat Coat tea. Of course, make sure your healthcare provider clears you to take supplements before you try them.
2. Exercise outdoors. Even if I only go for a short walk in the woods, I immediately feel better physically and mentally. The clean air and peacefulness helps me connect to the planet, and the movement helps with my stiff joints. I feel sick in general if I don’t get time outdoors.
1. Avoid processed foods—especially sugar. There are lots of studies that show the negative effects of processed sugar. Yes, it tastes good, but feeling like crap and/or getting very ill isn’t worth the momentary blissful taste. Fresh blueberries will taste super sweet after you get used to abstaining from processed sugar, so go for fruit if you need something sugary. As a side note, I ate some candy and cookies as the new year approached, and caught a very bad cold within a few days. Coincidence? Maybe, but I’d been healthy for 14 months before, and those were 14 processed-sugar-free months.
I got a happy surprise with the results of my lumbar MRI—only one slight, diffuse disc protrusion at L4/L5. Everything else looked fine! After suffering through debilitating back and hip pain for 13 months, I feared the worst. I knew my neck was bad, but I still didn’t expect the MRI to show what it did several years ago—three herniated discs. Because of my neck and the severity of my back pain, I tried to prepare for the worst with the lumbar MRI results. It’s hard to prepare for bad news when it I already feel like so much of my life is either stolen or diminished because of health issues, but I readied myself for one more piece of bad news. Instead, light!
There’s still no good reason for my back and hip to be so messed up. Idiopathic muscle spasms—possibly related to the cervical dystonia diagnosis I got a few years ago?—started torturing me seemingly out of nowhere last year. Sometimes I truly wonder if a fibromyalgia diagnosis is just a doctor’s way of saying she doesn’t really know what the hell is really going on.
In the face of misery—misery that is compounded by pain and spinal dysfunction keeping me from doing the vigorous exercise that makes me happy—I’ve discovered a random piece of exciting news. I can climb stairs without much pain. Lots of stairs. I walked up nine stories a few days ago and felt great. Today, I walked up outdoor amphitheater stairs ten times. Walking down sucks, and if it weren’t for having to walk down, I think I’d walk up a lot more. The building where I went up nine stories has an elevator, but I have major death trap phobia about elevators so it’s not practical for me to ride down. Maybe I’ll reach a point where I either get over the elevator fear or can better tolerate walking down, but until something changes, I like the outdoor stairs. I can walk up them and then walk down a grassy hill to start over.
I started another new adventure this week. I’m now working out with a trainer at the 24-hour gym where I hold a membership. I’ve already found that I haven’t been giving good trainers enough credit. This guy knows what he’s doing and is putting forth a lot of effort to help me correct the ridiculous anterior pelvic tilt that worsens my back pain. I have a second appointment with him tomorrow, and while I prefer independent exercise, I’m pretty excited about having a professional ensure I’m not making myself worse.
Meanwhile, the pain persists. I finally agreed to a round of bloodwork, which is something I’ve avoided for a couple of years now. I got very tired of getting the same old results—low white cell count and low red cell count and anemia—without anybody nailing down a cause. It just didn’t feel worthwhile to open a vein anymore, but I’m ready to look for answers again. I’ve also agreed to a few non-invasive tests, but have yet to decide if I’ll actually go through with them. Sometimes the worst thing about having health problems is the time it takes away from the good parts of life. But I know how lucky I am to live the life I lead, so I’ll just complain a little bit then get on with things.
The lumbar MRI experience wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I hate being in tight spaces and not being able to see a way out, but I drank a cup of Easy Now tea before the scan and it made me feel relatively calm. The MRI tech was considerate and positioned my legs comfortably since it hurts my back to lie flat. He recommended “spa music,” which turned out to be a decent blend of massage-like songs.
The best part was not having dye injected. When I had my cervical MRI, the technician injected dye into my arm, and like all injections, it was bee-sting-like and left a sore bruise. I assumed I’d need the dye for the lumbar MRI, but I didn’t, and that was a very nice surprise.
Another good surprise was the promise of results within 24 hours. I won’t see my doctor again for a few weeks, but I’ll be able to access the radiologist’s MRI report and look at my results at home. Since I work in healthcare, I’m reasonably competent at interpreting medical language, and by this time tomorrow, I’ll have an idea of whether or not my back is a disaster or not a big deal. I’ll update this post with the results as soon as I get them (or maybe a little later than that, since I’ll probably be at work). No matter what the report says, I’ll try to keep in mind that knowledge is power.
After ditching Lyrica, I resolved to do whatever I could to stay off prescription drugs. Very rarely, I took one Skelaxin for muscle spasms. The side effects weren’t worth it most of the time, but sometimes I would be so bad off that I had to take one. As the one-year anniversary of my back and hip issues neared, I couldn’t take the daily pain and stiffness anymore. I made an appointment with the doctor who’s worked on my neck in the past. He’s smart, isn’t afraid of the latest medical technology, and perhaps most importantly, he actually spends time with his patients and listens like a human rather than a hurried robot. Unfortunately, those attributes make it very hard to get an appointment, and I waited two months despite being an established patient.
When I did finally see him, he examined my back and hip and told me a few things I already know, like I have tight muscles and joint laxity. He decided to order a lumbar MRI, which wasn’t a surprise. He also talked me into filling a couple of prescriptions because he was very worried about my high pain levels and lack of sleep. I left his office with two scripts I’d never heard of before—Piroxicam and Tizanidine.
I thought I might not fill the drugs, but pain wore me down and I headed to the pharmacy. I figured I could try them once or twice and get off them quickly if they sucked. Piroxicam is an NSAID pain reliever and Tizanidine is a short-acting muscle relaxer. I was given instructions to take the Piroxicam once per day and the Tizanidine up to three times per day. I took one of each the first night, and was asleep within an hour.
Going to sleep quickly is a big deal with a body wracked by chronic pain. Hell, going to sleep at all is monumental. When I woke up the next morning, I didn’t feel hung over at all—I just felt better. I felt genuinely rested, unlike the crappy, forced sleep that comes from some drugs.
Tizanidine 4mg
For several days, I took one Piroxicam in the evening and one Tizanidine before bed, and I felt great. I hiked 21 miles one weekend, and began to feel hopeful about a mostly pain-free back, neck, and hip. As always, I follow a healthy diet and use my hot tub as much as three times per day. The good food, warm water, and new prescriptions gave me a feeling of freedom from pain, and it was priceless.
That feeling was also short-lived. After almost a week, I noticed my back pain was getting more intense again, and my neck felt badly out of alignment. This seems to be the curse with my fibromyalgia—something new helps for a little while, but before long, I’m back to hurting.
I took a break from my nightly muscle relaxer routine and didn’t notice much of a change. However, I’m now on day two of no Piroxicam, and I feel like crap. I haven’t decided yet if I’m going to start taking it again, but I’m leaning toward yes. I’m scheduled for the MRI this afternoon, and if I get stiff having to lie still for it, I’ll probably come home and pop a Piroxicam.
Have y’all tried either one of these medications? If so, what’s been your experience? I’d love to hear from you.
10. I played soccer—a lot of soccer. It didn’t even seem like a big deal when I’d take off my cleats after a game and find a bloody sock. Pain was temporary before fibromyalgia.
9. I ran around mountains, up mountains, and once down a mountain.
8. I tried new sports, like rollerblading, just for fun. There was no fear of the repercussions of taking a stiff, broken body through a new routine.
7. I took ibuprofen for pain and it actually worked.
6. I sat in a chair and read books for hours without my back hurting.
5. I ate ice cream and brownies and cookies and knew nothing about total-body inflammation.
4. I planned my days around choices rather than obligations—choices like when to go to the gym rather than obligations like having to see the chiropractor just so I can stand to be alive.
3. I travelled, and didn’t have to plan trips around muscle spasms and pain. I carried fun stuff in my luggage rather than needing a carload of pain-relieving props (Back Buddy, camping mattress in case the hotel bed is too soft, cervical pillow, Tiger Balm, etc.).
2. I went to sleep like a normal person. No handfuls of herbal supplements, no piles of pillows to ease back pain, no special cervical pillow. I would just lie down and pull up the covers.
1. I was free without realizing it—free to live as boldly as I wished and without pain—free to explore, to take risks, and to relax.
Taking a break from most fibromyalgia symptoms, contemplating this topic: ad campaigns that help my blog make a (tiny) bit of money. The quick overview: I need the money. I just got a $90 bill for an x-ray that the doctor didn’t even look at, and of course that’s in addition to copays and insurance premiums. However, when the ads are for things I object to, am I compromising my standards?
This is what I’ve come up with so far. The ads are always labeled as such, and I’ve posted before (and am doing so now) that I have little to no control over the ads. The only control I have is in allowing or not allowing them, which means I truly only control whether or not my blog brings in any money or goes broke. Readers have given me lots of feedback that they enjoy my blog, and many of us have been able to connect and offer advice and online friendship in the face of a really crappy chronic illness. The blog itself costs money to maintain, and I like to at least make my cost to run it.
On an ad-positive note, sometimes the services advertised really are beneficial to some people, and at the very least informative. I recently saw an ad for a new type of spinal surgery, and while I’m strictly forbidden to click, I Googled the service so I could read more about it. The advancements beyond spinal fusion sounded promising, and I wouldn’t have been as informed if I hadn’t seen an ad.
In a perfect world, this site would be ad-free, and the x-ray wouldn’t cost $90 and the doctor definitely wouldn’t bill for it if he didn’t even look at it. That said, I’m still uncomfortable with some of the ad content. It’s not explicit or political (I do have the power to block that stuff), but when it’s for products that I have no experience with, it can seem a little shady. I like to believe that everybody takes responsibility for themselves and doesn’t believe everything they read/click/etc. But I feel a responsibility to readers, and I want to know what y’all think. In the meantime, the ads will continue because the fibromyalgia-related medical bills continue. Thanks for your input!
