My husband came home from the gym the other day and set out to heat up some food. He turned the electric stove burner to 7, 10 being the hottest. I am sitting on the sofa in the living room watching TV when I hear him exclaim "Oh no!" and hear pots and pans clanging. I sense a change in light behind me, turn around and discover there is a good old fashioned electric grease fire consuming my stove top, flames licking the cupboard above it! So I charge into the kitchen, immediately grab the fire extinguisher from under the sink, aim it at the fire and squeeze as I shut my eyes. Nothing happens. I shout "A pin! There must be a pin!" and pull the pin from the safety on the extinguisher, shoot the nozzle and put out the fire. It was a triumphant moment! I was on cloud 9 as I discovered I had reacted in a calm, cool and efficient fashion, quickly and with success during a moment of such intensity. Something I imagine myself doing in every "crisis" situation, but truthfully lacking faith I could actually keep my wits about me, knowing how scattered my brain is these days. At this point half my kitchen is covered in whatever fire extinguishers are made of, a fine powder blanketing every surface, creating rolling hills and valleys on my left-over grits (grrrr), a kitchen towel, the canister of dog food, you name it. So being the sweet wife that I am I scold at my husband for not telling me there was a FIRE going on and just exclaiming "Oh no!", turn on my heals and head back to the sofa to watch TV, leaving the dear man to clean up the mess left in his wake.
There are few issues I am left with as the aftermath of my strokes, but controlling my temper and problem-solving in a quick situation are two areas I have lost ground in and they have been blaring at me for a while. Not so long ago I found myself screaming at my husband on the phone while he was at Trader Joe's, because he could not find the specific canister of coffee I was describing. Then an employee comes over to help him and she has no idea what I am talking about either. I proceed to start screaming at her through the phone shooting directly into my husband's ear, a bubbling inferno of rage pouring out of me. He just hung up in exasperation and bought whatever was the closest to what I had described. So here I sit, sipping that French Roast blend that is not my most favorable selection, grateful my husband has a forgiving heart. Then there was the post office incident (scroll down a few blogs for that one), and all these tiny little hiccups in life, the ones we all experience 100 times a day, but they are causing me to come unglued and completely lose it. So as I am discussing this with my husband he looks at me and says, "You need to exercise. You clearly have the energy with all these outrageous bursts you keep having, and exercise will channel and use that energy." And he was right.
The next day I got on program. I woke up and walked the dogs and would count 100 steps of walking then break into 30 steps of jogging. I quickly suffered. My right leg, below the site of the Sacroiliac Joint Dysfunction, pulled and burned all the way to my ankle. Then I came home and lightly rebounded on my trampoline while pulling bands to work my bicep for the round-table portion of Chelsea Lately. Next is a 25 minute program on Fit TV that is a flowing yoga sequence that kicks my booty but I do the best I can. And then I would rest. Actually I could really not do much more for the rest of the day but my mood and happiness immediately shifted, as though someone had turned on a switch. And each day, a minimum of 3 days a week, I have rolled out of bed in pain and cranky and forced myself to do it. I have not had one angry outburst since then. Yes plenty of thing have annoyed me or pissed me off, but I have been able to (gasp) control my temper. And then with the electric grease fire on the stove-top I learned I can act cool and efficient in a crisis. And it appears exercise is a magic remedy for me at this stage in my Fibromyalgia journey. Good thing because I have lost 10 lbs. in the first two weeks and only have 30 more to go before I am at pre-Prednisone weight. Sigh.
Thanks for joining.