Incessant shrill cheeping coming from the huge nest perched atop one of the power poles greeted me on my morning walk. Hoping for a glimpse of the noisy chicks or even a look at the adult osprey feeding their hungry … Continue reading
How I loved the out doors and, in days past, the “estate work.” On days like this, AF, After Fibromyalgia, days my lawn assumed daunting insurmountable estate-like proportions. What used to be an hour’s respite from marking my students’ assignments had become an ordeal that went on for several days and left me even more exhausted and aching. One lap took me forever.
Another mighty tug. My shoulder spasmed. This isn’t working. The lifeless behemoth just sat mocking me. Foot planted on the side, of the stubborn Toro lawnmower, grasping the pull cord in my quivering palm, deep breath in; I pulled with all of my might. Putt, cough, putt. Staggering, I regained my balance. Pushed the throttle forward—putt, putt, putt, music to my ears. Smoke belched from the mighty beast’s exhaust. Success!
Too tired to change into jeans and a long sleeved shirt, I watched the mower blade kick up the small rocks that bit into my exposed shins and forearms drawing blood. The pain, different from the normal fibro pain, was a pleasant change, a diversion. Much I suspect like stubbing my toe took my mind off my headache.
Slowly I followed the mower around the lawn, which seemed to increase in size with each swath. If only I too were self-propelled. Then this and all of the other chores would be so much easier.
For nearly fifteen years I have been free from the torment of the intolerable, incessant fibro pain. I no longer take prescribed medications, which brought their own disconcerting, mind-numbing side effects. Yet I can close my eyes and transport myself back in time to those dark and dismal days. For me giving up and surrendering to the pain was never an option. I continued to fight, searching for help, for surely there had to be something or someone that could stop the incessant chronic debilitating disease that was consuming me. And at last there was.
For me, help came in the form of Joy of Healing. Founders, Andrew and Tamara Overlee, and their family in spirit helped me to identify and resolve the numerous unresolved issues and stressors in my life that were making me so very ill. They worked with me on an exercise regime and healthy eating geared to meet my particular needs. And it worked!
I had tried more holistic and medical treatments than I can possibly count. If only I had started with Joy of Healing think of all of the time, energy and pain I could have saved myself.
I urge anyone who is suffering, hurting uncontrollably, with whatever illness or disease to continue to research and trust your intuition to guide you to the help you need to alleviate your condition. Consider alternative and complementary treatments as well as the medical.
Occasionally when I’m tired I reflect on the days of “fibro fog”, excruciating pain and despair, of where I’ve been and where I am and I am forever grateful. Grateful for all that I’ve experienced, for the opportunities I have been given and my beautiful life after fibromyalgia. I approach each day with a happy heart and a renewed awareness of my many blessings, especially Joy of Healing.