Life Without Pretending

When I started writing over-sharing on this blog six years ago, I had made the decision that I didn't want to ever complain. (I follow that rule in my real life, too, but that's not important right now.)

I seriously have so much to be grateful for, and I swear I do lead a charmed life. But like everyone else, I go through a rough patch now and then. Many of those things I've chosen not to write about, but now I'm wondering if you (my readers) wouldn't benefit more from my honesty. Or at least a good explanation for why I have been writing intermittently...

When I wrote about my struggle with Fibromyalgia I was humbled by your tremendous response and how many of you identified with me. I'm so grateful. This has made me feel more brave in sharing what's happening right now.

A few weeks back, just as I was getting over the sinus/bronchitis/pneumonia thing, I got a pain that was not my usual just-a-stiff-neck-you've-been-sitting-on-your-c0mputer-much-too-long pain. The back of my neck went into a spasm and the pain and tingling radiated from my neck, down my shoulder to my arm and over to the front of my neck and face.

People, I'm pretty sure no one's face is supposed to tingle.

I was not happy. Not. Happy.

There was an emergency room visit and muscle relaxants prescribed and then an MRI.

Can I just tell you that the whole MRI business was one of the most profoundly unpleasant experiences of my life. This is the thing where you are strapped to a bed and slid into a tube and have to keep perfectly still while the magnetic resonance imaging happens. (If you can bring your own music and convince the technician that Celia Cruz really is much more soothing to you than the Pandora Easy Listening station, you'll do sooo much better.)

Even with Celia at my side, I'd really rather not have to do that ever again, thankyouverymuch.

But I did it. And the diagnosis is a bulging disk in my neck that is pinching a nerve that's causing the radiating pain. (I so wish I was not writing over-sharing about this, but that's not important right now, either.)

This bulgy-disk-pinched-nerve deal is affecting my life in so many ways. It's tough to sleep, which is already not my strong suit (see: the Fibromyalgia post). I have a constant ringing in my ears, which is making my hardness of hearing even harder. (Seriously, this is so embarrasing.)

I'm in physical therapy now and receiving treatment, but I'm not loving this season of my life. I feel weak and I feel vulnerable. And did I mention the weird tingly-face thing? But again, I've determined to live my life without pretending anymore, so there you have it.

In fact, I was tempted to stop blogging altogether, but something happened last week that made me change my mind. I'll write about that tomorrow.

So, here I am again. Sorry for the long break in my writing over-sharing, but I've been a bit out of sorts. But I'll get through this.

I found this quote and wrote it on the pantry chalkboard in the kitchen. I was inspired by it.

It says: "Expect problems...and eat them for breakfast." ~Alfred A. Montapert.

I like that.

Besides, with Celia's voice in my headphones, I found I can do anything.

Pa'lante y con fe.

The Things I Didn't Blog About in 2012 - Fibromyalgia

I've never shared this with anyone but my very closest friends. I've been writing here at My Big, Fat, Cuban Family for 6 years and I have never even broached this topic, but that's not important right now.

I suffer from fibromyalgia. Which means I live in pretty much constant pain.

I don't talk about it because, well, frankly, who needs to have this information? And I really think complaining is a sin, but that's not important right now.

But I determined that I would be more honest this year and it is, after all, my space. So here it is.

It began shortly after my 40th birthday and the birth of my youngest son, Jonathan. My body started to react stupidly. My joints hurt more than usual. I forgot how to fall asleep and stay asleep. And things just got worse from there.

I have an abnormal reaction to pain. My feet hurt so badly I can barely walk some days. Exercise is hit and miss depending on my comfort level. I have to take some pretty intense meds to calm the pain so I can attempt to sleep at night, but they make me stupid and they cause me to swell. (Like we People of the Round Face don't have enough to deal with!)

I feel very depressed and desperate sometimes. When the fibro gets really bad, I spend the entire day trying to find relief. When I get stressed, all the symptoms get intensified and it feels like I've been run over by a truck.

Wearing high heels is agony. (This is the ultimate low for me as a Cuban woman. *sigh*)

To make matters worse, I can't take ibuprofen-type pain meds, which would probably help. I'm allergic. (Le sumba el mango, right?)

I hate it. I hate the life-defining aspect of it. I hate being weak. I hate the constant pain. I hate wondering how much pain my body will be in when I get invited places. The chronic fatigue makes getting out of bed difficult some days.

But I keep going and push through the pain. And I have a fantastic support system in my husband, Eric and my family and close friends. Because of them, I still maintain that I lead a charmed life.

I still make dinner for my family every night. I still care for my aging mom. I still paint sets and design costumes for my son's drama productions. I still host elaborate parties. I do my best to make sure that my husband and kids do not suffer just because I do. I still find time to scrapbook and create and document my life. And I still write about my extraordinarily ordinary life right here in this space.

Because of my bad days, I'm extra grateful for the good ones. Because of the pain, I'm more empathetic to those around me. Because of the sleepless nights, I take more time to pray.

I live in constant pain. But I live in constant gratitude. Which is where I begin when I sit down to blog. I'm grateful for so very much and I don't feel like I want to complain. Which is why I am always celebrating.

So, you see, for me, living with fibro is a curse. And a blessing.