I Am Going To Practice What I Preach

I went to the doctor yesterday, first time since I have been off Prednisone, where the reality of the trauma my life has been since July of last year was stripped bare in front of my face. For I had to step on the scale. I wore my lightest clothing and refrained from over-indulging in water prior to the awful appointment time of 6:30 in the morning! It was a punch to the gut, a very big gut apparently. I weigh as much as I did at the height of the Lyrica explosion. Oh I was not happy, not happy at all. Thank God I have no new woes or ailments, at least until the blood test, the specimen reluctantly trickling from my veins (drink water!), comes back on Friday. So the weight was the big concern. "Are you exercising?", she asked. "No not regularly" I replied.. "Why?" she inquired, with a caring turn of her head. "I am hurting and tired and lethargic and disorganized and unmotivated and often times just plain lazy", I truthfully answered. I am not back to how I was before the strokes. I am darn near still recovering from the Prednisone that was like an illness in and of itself. But the point had been made, the cards had been shown. I have to get up off my hurting and tired and lethargic and disorganized and unmotivated and often times just plain lazy ass. And walk my dogs, stretch my muscles and put my life back together again.

You know, all that stuff I am always chirping away about, what everyone else should do to manage their Fibromyalgia? I used to do these things, but have neglected to reestablish the routine. I was in the washing machine on the spin cycle for a long time and then it suddenly stopped and I collapsed, and am slowly crawling my way out as I regain my strength and fortitude. And I have no excuses anymore. My treatment is done, the strokes are ancient history, last year's news. Only the bright and beautiful future ahead of me. A path unpaved but calling, beckoning me to define how I am going to execute this leg of the journey of my life. Am I going to be successful?  The question ever present around me. If I stick with the established pattern, no, I will not. My Fibromyalgia may not be as well managed as it was before the whole debacle happened, but I am certainly capable of a much more organized and less whim-filled existence than I am indulging in now. So I sat down last night and tried to rough draft a weekly "schedule". It immediately became apparent what my problem is...

I am expecting way more from myself than I could ever possibly have time for! Exact same behavior pattern that I have exhibited my entire life. Except I am a procrastinator that works for myself now and sleeping 10 hours a night takes up a lot of time and I am so much more efficient when I am punching someone elses time card... So I am going to keep working on this one. Seeing my doctor always snaps me back into shape, makes me pick up the dropped ball of self-care. I choose her for that reason. But if I cannot make the sum of my expectations fit together on a piece of paper there is no way I am going to accomplish it in life. That, my dear friends, is chaos. Doing the same thing and expecting a different result. So for the first time in my life I am going to continue on with the puzzle, not throw my hands up in exasperation and distract myself with something else. But until I figure it out, every morning you will find Yorkie and Porkie and I walking around the neighborhood. And I will come home and stretch. For that is the mandatory requirement to accomplish my #1 goal.

Thanks for joining,

Leah